I went to see the Gypsy, again. I was desperate. She had moved her “offices” to more glamorous digs near the beach. Now it looked like a therapist lounge. I wondered if this new location had anything to do with the instructions she gave me.
She told me it was very simple. On the next blue moon, you will swim around in Ventura Cove with a baby stingray. You’ll have to bring your goggles to find one. They like to burrow in the sand, so it might be tricky. And for heaven’s sake do NOT step on them or they’ll sting you. When you find one, brush your hand against the fin, gently, and then get out of the water. Then, you must sing, “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle,” from Carmen, in the parking lot. Beware of Seagulls. Then, you must dance the Mashed Potato, the Pogo, the Pony, and the Running Man for 40 minutes on the beach, in the sand, without stopping. Any combination is fine, but you must do them all. Then, go back into the bay, swim to the buoy, rub the buoy ten times up and down, swim back, and drink this.
Then, she said, he will love you.
I did as I was told, but it took me almost a year and a half before I saw a baby stingray.
I also had to take French lessons and singing lessons for the Carmen bit, as I just couldn’t get it right.
I can’t dance worth shit, so I watched endless YouTube videos and also took a class at the Community College.
Finally, it was happy hour again at the Princess of Whales. Brian, the sales rep from Dallas, was definitely coming. I could barely look at him. He had the most incredible shiny black hair, like a Comic Book hero. He was an Adonis – I’d lose my breath when he walked into the office. Waves of nauseous lust overcame me every time he was near, and I’d have to excuse myself. This time, I felt a little bit better as I had gone through all the steps of the Gypsy’s and drank the potion in the bathroom.
But it happened again. I loved him so much I threw up the moment I saw him.
I went back to see the Gypsy. She asked me if I swam with the stingray, if I had touched the buoy the correct amount of times, if I truly could sing Carmen. She asked me to sing for her. She went down the list.
I said, “Look. It didn’t work. He flew back to Dallas and asked Pam out instead of me.”
She asked me if I drank the potion. Yes, of course, I said. But I did throw up. Oh, she said. I’m sorry to hear that. That was the most important part. The rest of the stuff was, frankly, bullshit.
Anyway, you’re all paid in full. Try online dating, maybe. Now you can say you’re an Opera Lover!