The company that my dad works for rents out Borders Books for one night every November. It's mostly a kid-oriented thing: face-painting, magician, balloons and whatnot. Everything in the store is also heavily discounted, so hello Christmas shopping. We go every year.
This year there was an astrologer. He was sitting in the metaphysical studies section! With a laptop! And looking like he could've done my taxes! Seriously, the guy was completely normal looking. I was expecting a woman in a crazy dress, long gray hair with a bird's nest, potions and spells and goblins.
So my new friend used his understanding of celestial rhythms and an iBook to read the sky on the day that I was born. He told me that I'm a very detail-oriented person who thinks that my way is the right way, and that I have strong opinions about how things should be run, particularly in the home. He also told me that when I'm at work, I actually do work. It's uncanny: I was just complaining about the "having to do crap" aspect of my job.
He asked if I was married. "Can't you tell?"
He didn't appreciate this. He's not a psychic. Apparently there's a difference.
He pointed out that I have a very strong indicator for marriage. "Oh. Is he tall?" He couldn't tell me this. Moreover, I've missed the point. God, Red. Respect the cosmos.
"Pluto is indicating a very powerful relationship on your horizon." Apparently "on the horizon" literally means in the sky, not arriving shortly at my door with flowers and little to no emotional scarring. "This relationship will be with a very intense person and will affect you profoundly."
"Intense? He's also laid-back though, right?"
At that point an old woman in line was laughing at me. Whatever, lady, I think you can wait to learn about your imminent death.
Next he told me that when I have fun, I have FUN. Then he spelled fun. I now plan to blame my Tuesday morning hangovers on the planets. I can't control the whims of the solar system, people!