She believed that if she positioned a certain part of her body at a specific point inside the pyramid, all the powers of the universe, cosmic and spiritual, would condense to create an irrepressible psycho-physiological, hormonal rush, ending in a much sought after finale. When she said, “I’m hiring you to find that spot,” I was confused, because I didn’t know which spot she meant, the pyramid’s, or her’s.
She believed that when she engaged in a specific physical activity, and a particular part of her anatomy was placed in the correct juxtaposition within the geometry of her pyramid-like home, the permeation of her body by cosmic energy propagated by all the stars and planets, as well as the ethereal injection of power from the spiritual realm, would join forces to create an irrepressible psycho-physiological, hormonal rush, ending in a much sought after finale.
I have been cursed by a client! Really!! It was a curse placed upon me by a white-magic-practicing witch. It was 1977, my first year in business. I was contacted by a local owner of one of those trendy “enlightened” book stores. More than a book store owner, she was a self-proclaimed doctor of parapsychology, a psychic, a fortune teller, a mystic, a seer, a spirit-channeling guide, a link to (mentally add mysterious music and echos) the other side….. side…. side…. side.
She wanted me to design a new house for her, a scale model of The Great Pyramid of Cheops in Egypt. Only, her’s wasn’t going to be in a glamorous location outside Cairo, but in a field outside Wetumpka. Pyramid Power was big in the 70’s, and she was big into it. I was just getting started and would accept anything, even this weird wonder of Wetumpka.
Now, there’s a lot to this story. It’s too long to tell it all here, so this is the very short version.
We agreed on a fee, and I drew the plans. She refused to pay. I asked why. Her reasons : business was bad, which was not true; her husband was suddenly and unexpectedly divorcing her, which was true. Years later I would meet him, and hear his side, the side that did not want to be married to a maniacal mystic, the side that for the sake of his children and himself chose to no longer put up with a steady stream of gullible dropping-by-the-house Autauga, Elmore, Lee, Macon, Montgomery, and Tallapoosa Countians, all desperately needing a self-proclaimed doctor of parapsychology, a psychic, a fortune teller, a mystic, a seer, a spirit-channeling guide, a link to the other side….. side…. side…. side.
So, I sued her…. in Small Claims Court……. for the entire fee…….. one hundred and fifty dollars. She didn’t like it, and made sure I knew it. She used a messenger.
Working for her as a personal secretary was a weasely little man named Gary. In the weeks leading up to our court appearance (a big phrase to connect with a measly $150), Gary would call me and make threats. At first the threats were empty, hollow promises like, “You’ll never win,” and “We’ll never have to pay.” Then they became violent, like, “We’ll be waiting for you with a baseball bat,” and, “We’ll tear you to pieces.” I won’t say I wasn’t worried, and in the weeks before the hearing, whenever I left my little apartment, which was also my design studio, another big phrase to connect with a business in a shoebox, I was careful to look for Gary or some other bat wielding henchman, but they were never there. Also, during the month before the court date, my business boomed. I was hired by client after client, adding at least one new job each day. It was so exciting to hear the phone ring,……. until a week before the trial, when Gary called again.
They knew mine was a brand spanking new house plan business, a struggling startup for which clients and jobs were yet to exist. I had nothing. They knew it. They thought they could use it. That’s why Gary called a week before the trial date.
“Now you’ll be sorry,” he began. “She’s had enough,” he added snidely. Then, in a tone of voice that, through the phone, actually conveyed the sneer on his face he jibed, slowly for effect, “How has business been the last few weeks? Pretty bad, huh? She’s put a curse on you! But drop the case, and she’ll lift the curse.”
My answer, “Please tell her that I wish I had known, so I could’ve appreciated the curse she put on me. But also tell her that this has been the best month of my career, so will she please do it again.”
CLICK! …. That was Gary hanging up hard.
In the long version of this story I’ll tell how it ended. But for now, I’ll just say that people who believe themselves to be magical, mystical, and spirit powered are believing in a fool. A curse only “works” when both sides know about it, and the gullible cursed target completely accepts it, and alters behavior to match the characteristics of the curse. That’s not magic. That’s just stupid. Magic simply does not exist. There exist no mortals who can make evil, or any power, do their bidding in their own name or the name of “another,” even one on the other side….. side…. side…. side.
PART II Coming Soon
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