Fantasy Job #6: Fortune Teller

Beset by unemployment and cursed with an over active imagination, I have started fantasizing about dream jobs.

Fantasy Job #6: Fortune Teller

Y'all know anything about I Ching?

Here is how it goes. It came from ancient China - old Chiner is alright, the pre-commie era. Damn, I just can't stand a Red-Chinaman. Anyways, what you do is throw some old bones or dice or some shit. Then you look at the direction and pattern of how it all landed. Then you look the pattern up in the book. The book will then give you a statement that you have to interpret. For example:

"The dragon walks slowly across the green meadow, his left arm slightly lower than his right. While in the saffron bush the hedgehog grooms his leg hair."

This is, of course, allegory. You have got to decide what in your life is the dragon is and what the significance of the saffron bush is and so on and so forth.

What the fuck??

No wonder the Chinese invented gun powder, land mines and all kinds of shit; but the pasty faced faggy British made them bow down and kiss the King's royal ass.

So I Ching was the original "I" app, predating the I Pod by about 3,000 years and the I Phone by about 3,002 years.

This all got me to thinking. My career is not really "climbing the ladder" but bumble fucking over a series of step stools. Since I ain't got no job, there ain't none on the horizon and unemployment will run out in a while - I need a back up plan.

ERT'S BEER EMPORIUM AND FORTUNE TELLING.

This is how it will work. I am going to rent three things: an old run down building next to an exit off Interstate 81, a billboard on the northbound side and one on the southbound side. Truckers, tourist and locals will enter my establishment. They will purchase from me cheap, shitty, and slightly cooler that room temperature, beer. The customer drinks the beer as hard and fast as they can go. When they get sick, they vomit on to an open, yet smooth and clean, patch of cement. For an extra fee, The Amazing Ert will interpret their vomit.

Yes, can you not see it?? Neon lights, walls painted florescent green, black lights, bead curtains, incense and Frank Zappa playing in the background.

Oh! A funny hat. Damn it! I'll need a funny hat. You can't be a sooth sayer without a proper cap. I'll wear a lot of satin and silk garments, you know, like Hugh Heffner. A coon skin cap and a monogrammed satin bath robe - by god I've got it! People will come in and immediately be able to tell that: "That mother fucker knows what he is talking about, look at the hat!"

When customer's walk in they will be able to feel two things in the air: love, because the Great Ert loves all, but he loves those with valid credit cards more. Second that can be felt in the air, electrostatic air purification; the only sure way to keep the smell of vomit from the air.

Entrepreneur Magazine - kiss my ass. Put that in a five year plan and smoke it.

I'll even serve breath mints out of a bowl shaped like Darth Vader's head. Details people, it is all in the details.

Dirty Ert