I Let a Magic Eight Ball Run My Life

After a lifetime of mistakes, I let my Magic Eight Ball (MEB) decide. For a week, I gave tricky choices and options to the great ball of destiny.

Situation: The weather report lets me down. Forecast: Light showers. I could glance out my open window where a dreamcatcher is blowing something fierce but I trust your opinion more. 
Q: Should I wear rain boots? 
A: Very Doubtful.
Result: MEB, thank you for your guidance. The wet weather turned into a nor’easter and as you said, my waterproof shoes weren’t enough to stay dry.

Situation: My sister demands a response to her wedding invitation: chicken, fish, or beef? I’m allergic to everything with a mouth. Without a +1 to help me choose, I asked my rabbi, sangha, priest, and shaman but they all disagreed. 
Q: Help, what should I eat at the reception?
A: Concentrate and Ask Again.
Result: You’re a genius, round oracle of my spirit. I squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep breath, then texted my sister about the caterer. It’s a seafood restaurant so I’ll get the fish. Thank you! xoxo.

Situation: The Zoltar genie at the carnival predicted my future. The card read, “You’ll find hidden riches.” 
Q: Should I play lotto or ask my wealthy great-aunt for another loan?
A: Don’t Count On It.
Result: Correct, again! Divine protector of blue waters and a twenty-sided plastic cube, you are my sage. Mystified over where to look, chills overcame me upon crossing the path of a Psychic Palm Reader. Her crystal ball and mediumship identified a hidden divorce and the location of my long-lost cousin, Rich, Jr., and uncle, Rich, Sr. MEB, you’re priceless.

Situation: I met my new boyfriend, Joaquin, during a peyote vision quest. We use the rhythm method for birth control but it’s unpredictable. During sex, I’m not sure if he’s going to shoot one past the goalie. My herbalist warned: the pill can make me break out, a diaphragm might slip, and an IUD could lead to a nasty infection. 
Q: I flipped a coin and decided not to have kids. Should I convince Joaquin to prove his devotion and get a vasectomy? 
A: Without A Doubt. 
Result: Joaquin committed to our future and is sitting here with a bag of ice on his junk after his outpatient male sterilization surgery. Permanently sealed, he can’t get me pregnant! You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, MEB. BFF.

Situation: My Capricorn Sun horoscope is riddled with vague forecasts about change. I need advice regarding Joaquin’s new issue — he’s unhappy with a rare side effect of the vasectomy — he now ejaculates inside himself (called a blow-out). Plus, my doctors hinted, I’m not getting any younger. And my coworkers swear their children helped them find meaning in their sad lives.
Q: Can we reverse Joaquin’s snip and live happily ever after with triplets? 
A: My Sources Say, No.
Result: Wow, you helped me avoid the mistake of a thousand reincarnations. Joaquin called me his soul mate in the desert, but after sharing hot tea with his guru, the leaves communicated we’re a bad match. I wish I could find someone like you, MEB. Well-rounded, full of clarity, and an orb of few words. Don’t ever leak. Yours truly.

Situation: My new professional development group, Extraterrestrials Of The Light, request I tattoo my abdomen with the face of our Supreme Leader. They also want me to send group texts to ask permission every time I need to use the bathroom — for deeper insights and leadership potential.
Q: Should I subjugate myself and relinquish free will? 
A: Outlook Not So Good.
Result: MEB, you are the chosen one. After days of constipation due to my lost cell phone and their leadership communications, the Extraterrestrials Of The Light were arrested as a cult. It’s so hard to find a good mentor! Forever grateful.

Situation: My therapist, acupuncturist, and phrenologist say my life as a seeker has caused me to be an emotional yo-yo due to the mixed messages from various outside sources. Then, my reiki guide’s crystal pendulum spun towards tapping into my own higher frequency, intuition, and higher self.
Q: How do I reach one inner truth?
A: Will you marry me? 

Result: Yes! I love you. And I do want to meet your brother, Tarot; dad, Ouija; and mom, I Ching. I’ll sneak you into my sister’s wedding. You’ll fit in my pocket everywhere I go. And no secrets…unless you answer, Better Not Tell You Now. ❏

Dawn Gernhardt is a writer in California who’s addicted to typing and clicking.