Going to a psychic combines two things betches love: expensive shit and #112 talking about ourselves. We always love another excuse to talk about ourselves and psychics are more expensive than therapy and way more chic. Nice girls talk about their past, betches talk about the future. Poor people don’t go to psychics because they don’t have options so what would they even ask about? Betches always have options and therefore always need answers.
Ever since we got our first Dream Phone game in our early onset betchhood, we knew we loved asking questions. Good questions to ask are “Will I marry someone I know?” and “What should I be careful of?” and we all know that last one is about bros, and so will she. Betches never ask shit like “Does he like me?” or “Should I leave him?” because being desperate or having a cracked out stranger give you relationship advice is not the point of this activity. Stop reading and call a hotline or something.
Chances are, you’ll probably only do this once or twice in your life, because if you actually are going to some crystal ball to make your life decisions you probably deserve whatever mistakes got you here in the first place or worse, you’re Spencer Pratt. When do betches go to psychics? Acceptable situations include bachelorette parties, when she’s the entertainment at formal, a themed birthday party, and cheering up your bestie after a break-up. Going to a psychic is a lot like gambling at a casino. It’s betchy to have done it before but it’s a problem if you’re doing it alone and sober.
Sure, your psychic is probably just a recovered meth-addict dressed like Esmeralda, but the point is it’s not hard to read tarot cards so it’s like whatever. You love your psychic because she tells you shit you want to hear about yourself because she’s taking your fucking money, and she’ll guide you just enough so you don’t have to take responsibility for your actions. Your parents can’t get mad you’re quitting your job and moving to LA because “your psychic told you to do so”. Voila. Not your fucking problem.
The best part of going to a psychic is acting surprised when she guesses accurate things about your life, even if you know it’s like, so obvious. You might say something like, “Omg she guessed I was from a really great family and that I have a lot of men in my life how the fuck did she know that” when you’re really saying “I’m hot as shit and it’s obvious even to a stranger in a turban.” Never mind the reason she guessed you’re thinking about a career change is probably because you asked her “Where is my career headed?” and nobody that’s happy with their job asks that. All you know is you now you have the perfect story to include in your memoir when you’ve launched your own perfume line Bethenny Frankel style and are discussing the moment you knew you had to switch careers.
We go to psychics for the same reason we read horoscopes or take #212 Buzzfeed Quizzes, we love hearing about ourselves and how perfect our lives are/can be. It’s also super brave and shit, because I’m pretty sure gypsies have a history of cursing people so you’re pretty much a war hero now.