It happened 7 years ago, on a Scorpio Saturday night. I was invited to a small dinner party to meet a guy who was a bit sweet on me. I was looking forward to it and holiday was swishing in the air because it was the Saturday before Thanksgiving. I knew the woman throwing the party fairly well, but as it turns out I really didn't know her at all. Her husband seemed very nice and as it turns out he was the only *normal* one there, besides me and their two cats.
Dennis was an import from Germany, had traveled the world working with horses, and ended up here. Sandra was German too, somehow that's what brought them together. Kinsmen as they say. I was asked to show up an hour early to help her set up and get the energy flowing. She had some questions to ask and wanted me to bring my Tarot cards. Her husband and Dennis walked in an hour later with a pan of homemade beans, a bottle of Jagermeister and a package of steaks. Being a vegetarian, I raised an eyebrow.
I wasn't aware that Dennis smoked or that he drank heavily. I was immediately put off. I'd talked to Sandra about Dennis when she suggested the party and she assured me that he was as *clean as a whistle.* He was also wearing one of those Australian coats/capes which cowboys wear, and it smelled heavily of horse manure. If I had only had the willpower to excuse myself at that moment, I'd have run for the car and gone home. Unfortunately, manners took over and made me suffer through the next few hours. Being nice stinks.
Dennis looked a great deal like Warren (Zevon), and this was the first thing I ever noticed about him. Warren had just died on Sept 7th, so he was heavy on my mind and I still missed him a great deal. I brought Warren's photo with me to show Sandra; she was flabbergasted at the resemblance. I stumbled through dinner eating a small, tough piece of steak and some beans. We drank red wine while Dennis drank beer. I thought it odd that no salad or vegetable of any kind graced the table and dessert was still frozen since it was forgotton in the freezer.. As peculiar as this evening was proceeding, the worst part hadn't happened yet.
The conversation flowed freely, and somehow came full circle, back to my Tarot cards. Dennis was excited about asking questions and wanted to use the cards to ask some of his own. Since I was reading the cards for him, I needed to hear the questions. He became alarmed at this, but then understood that if I didn't know what the questions were, I wouldn't be able to read the answers. Sandra and her husband went in the other room to allow us some privacy. The first two questions went fine until the third one. He didn't like the answer. He became a bit enraged, and knocked his beer over when he slapped the table. Every card in the deck was saturated. I was devastated. I'd had this deck for over 25 years and it was my most prized possession. Dennis was apologetic, but didn't insist on buying me new cards, nor did he consider my feelings.
I scooped up the cards, put them in a plastic bag and made my exit. When I got home I washed them all and put them out to dry. By morning they were crinkled and stiff, Rigor Mortis had set in. Faded and pale, they lay on the counter, lifeless and cold. My energy had been released from them, they were no longer part of me. The burial ceremony was compassionate and thankful but the loss was hard on me.
For the past 7 years I have used other lovely decks, but those decks never gave me clear results. Finally, last month, I bought another Aquarian Tarot Deck and all the energy held in that former deck has returned to me. We are starting over again with a fresh outlook and a happy new vibe.
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