So Predictable

     

      The Psychic of the Village sat on a plush red chair inside her shop on 6^th Avenue right off Houston St. She was wearing a purple tracksuit and chewed gum as she stared at her iPhone. On the small table next to her were a stack of tarot cards and some candles. She was going to tell me my future. Not my whole future. That would require a $75 tarot card reading. Instead I opted for the $10 face reading. She would tell me all about myself just by looking at my face.

       She looked at me and told me I will live a long and happy life. That’s a relief. I will have a successful career and my work will involve people. That’s so vague, how could it not be true? And there was more good news: I have many admirers.  One in particular stood out to her. There was an age gap between the mystery admirer and me. I asked if the admirer was older or younger. The Psychic of the Village told me it could be either one, she wasn’t sure. Nobody’s perfect.

Little House of Horrors

Curious Expeditions, Flickr

If I’ve learned anything from the mystery solving teens on Scooby-Doo, it’s that ghosts are nothing more than profit hungry realtors wearing sheets over their heads. With this in mind, I was skeptical that Manhattan’s most haunted house was actually haunted. For years, staff and visitors at the Merchant’s House Museum on East 4^th St have claimed to have supernatural encounters. They say they can’t explain the phenomena, but they believe that something other than antique furniture lurks through its corridors. 

I hope I don't neglect my future children as much as I've neglected this blog.

because then they would starve to death.

Thanks For Nothing

Unfortunately, none of us were high on heroin in this picture.

       I grew up with a secure, loving family in a nice suburban area. This is the worst possible way for a writer to grow up. If I were raised by drug addicts in the ghetto I'd already have the makings of an interesting memoir. Unfortunately, there's no built-in struggle to the story of my childhood, and it’ll probably be a while before I’m able to write a memoir and become a famous writer. My parents encouraged me to follow my dreams and made sure I always had everything I ever needed and more. I never worried about having a roof over my head. I never went hungry and anyone who knows what I looked like from ages 8 to 16 can attest to this.

I'm Mike Fletcher

     

      I’m Mike Fletcher, alter ego of Chris Williams and the most important thing to know about me is that I’m much cooler than him. I’m a film major at NYU entering my junior year. I have a fake ID and I hang out at cool bars in Williamsburg with all my hipster friends. One of them is in a band. Another one is a performing artist. Sometimes we do gateway drugs together.

    I have sex all the time and I can totally pull off wearing a leather jacket. I’m great in social settings and I never make inappropriate jokes about the Holocaust when first meeting someone. I have perfect vision and I don’t need glasses. I can wear non-prescription sunglasses like normal people and my facial hair grows in evenly.

Let's Hang Out

       
      Hello, your body looks nice in those clothes. Mind if I come closer to get a whiff of your hair? No? Ok, I’ll smell it later. Who am I? I’m Chris. We have English together and we had Spanish together. Don’t you remember me? Really? You don’t? We’ve talked several times. That’s weird that you don’t remember me. I’ve lent you three pens. And you still haven’t given them back.

       I added you over two months ago on Facebook and you still haven’t accepted my friend request. I’ve been checking every ten minutes to see if you’ve accepted me, but you haven’t. Your privacy settings are really secure and I can’t see any pictures from when you went to Cabo over spring break. I bet you wore a bikini.

What Dads Are For

        

      I found the perfect Father’s Day present. It’s a book called What Dads Are For, which features about a sentence per page with sappy lines about the importance of a dad. Things like, “to teach me how to be honest in the face of hardship,” but sorely missing the more realistic reasons such as, “to put money in my checking account.”

     If I get this for my dad, he will cry and I will win. This was it, a way out. I could buy this for him and call it a day. But I decided not to take the easy way out, I’m almost 20 years old and I should be capable of buying my dad a more meaningful, personalized Father’s Day gift. This book is the type of thing a mom would give to her husband saying it was from their 2-year-old child. I needed something that would pack the same emotional punch as What Dads Are For while also being something personal.