"Right," she says, "I'll be off, then.""So," I ask, "What's this thing you're going to?"
"It's a psychic dinner."
"A WHAT?"
"A psychic dinner. We all have a chicken-inna-basket meal, and these palm readers an' that come and tell you your fortune."
I am incredulous.
"I am incredulous. And you've actually paid money for this?"
"Yes. Yes I have."
"And what time will you be back?"
"I don't know. They didn't tell me."
I facepalm.
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