I see dead people......and gulible people too.

I had just cleared the plates from a reluctant table of two. I say reluctant but it was mainly him, in fact it was all him. He didn't want to be there and made no effort to conceal his feelings. He grumped, huffed, pouted and generally got on like a well slapped arse. And why, I hear you ask, was he so unhappy with life? It wasn't life that had him unhappy it was death. For a "treat" his darling wife had purchased tickets for them both to go to a medium. Well you can understand his consternation.

I see dead people....
can I have £25.00 please?

His charming wife seemed oblivious to his moaning and groaning, either that or he's just like that all the time which was distinctly possible given his gruff and brusque demeanor. Got to be said though I'd not be so pleased if I had to spend an evening listening to a bunch of hokery pokery. And as Mr Happy put it, "Fifty fucking quid to hear that yer dead ma wants you to be happy. Gimme a pissing break!"

My sentiments entirely. I mean it's nonsense isn't it? And if the dead could speak from beyond the grave why would they choose some half assed hippy type with a name like Sheila or John Edward through which to channel their unfinished business? And why does it always cost £25? Like what are the running expenses involved in being a medium? Are the dead demanding a cut? Arse, I say arse to the lot of it. Arse and shenanigans! I don't believe in any of it, mediums, psychics, fortunetellers, accountants, it's all just phooey.

Thankfully he said that when his wife was in the bathroom. I concurred but not too strongly lest he decide to drag me into his fight. I mean nothing was going to stop or dissuade his wife from going. He told me that her mother had died a few months back and she was still coming to terms with it. He, like any rational person, wasn't convinced that a medium was the best way to find "closure". But what can you do? Her grief was strong and stronger still was her belief that the medium would help her.

EEK!

Tears before bedtime if you ask me.

As they left I bade them a fond farewell. But as his wife exited the door he popped back to say,

"Going to talk to her dead ma! Jesus H Christ! For fuck sake I didn't talk to her when she was alive."

Oh yes tears before bedtime for sure.......