My encounter with the clairvoyant dominatrix

My encounter with the clairvoyant dominatrix

Does this type of thing happen to anyone else?

The day of my encounter with the clairvoyant dominatrix started appropriately with the colorful funeral of a dear friend’s mother.

Colorful literally – the deceased’s bespoke purple coffin was smothered with decoupage flowers.

Colorful metaphorically – I hadn’t known the deceased had been a part-time witch. And a disinhibited former lover caused consternation when he took the podium and recounted racy stories starring the deceased.

After the funeral, I drove off and picked up a hitch-hiking clairvoyant dominatrix.

Of course I didn’t know this initially. What I saw was a woman standing at the side of the road trying to flag down cars.

My first thought was that she was an injured jogger trying to get a lift home.

My second thought was that she was escaping a violent domestic situation.

Either way she needed a lift. I pulled over.

My second thought – the domestic situation – was the right one.

I’d initially thought the woman was a jogger because she was wearing trainers and, I thought, shorts.

But the shorts weren’t shorts. The shorts were actually one of those skirts so short they multi-task as belts.

As we drove off, she told me she was getting away from her jealous and violent boyfriend.

“In fact”, she said, “that’s him in that car”.

A car coming towards us had done an abrupt U-turn and was now coming up behind us.

Oh great, I thought, it’s all on now.

Being ex-police I wasn’t overly worried about a confrontation, but I was worried about my passenger. I said we should contact the police if her boyfriend was violent.

Unlike me, my passenger wasn’t concerned. “It’s fine. I’m just giving him some space to calm down – you know, like how you put a grumpy horse out to pasture for a while”.

She continued, “And fair’s fair. I did chain him up and beat him for three days when I found out he cheated on me. I got charged with kidnapping”.

Maybe I looked confused. “I’m a dominatrix” she explained.

“Anyway, he’ll be fine. He saw I got in the car with a woman”.

Indeed, her boyfriend’s car was dropping back.

She proceeded to tell me stuff. Including how, despite their obvious problems (like, you know…kidnapping), she and her boyfriend were destined to be together forever. In previous lives they had been opium smugglers. Okay.

So just your average post-funeral afternoon.

I can’t vouch for the soundness of my passenger’s mental fitness, but I can vouch for her physical fitness. Thanks to her micro-skirt I could see much of her athletic physique – which was another reason I’d initially thought she was a jogger. I guess being a dominatrix means big savings on gym membership fees.

She wanted to be dropped off in Mount Eden. When we stopped, rather than getting out she said “Before I go, I want to thank you for helping me out. I’ll give you a free reading”.

Maybe I looked confused. “I’m also a clairvoyant”, she explained.

“Okay”, I said, never having experienced such a thing before. Plus I was still a student at the time. So, you know. Free.

What followed was quite bizarre.

She said she was channeling two spirits. A man and a woman. She was holding hard onto my ear lobe, and staring into nothing. She said the spirits were clamoring to tell me things through her. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

She told me some things about me that weren’t correct – such as that I had a photographic memory. I most definitely do not.

She told me a number of things that were accurate – but you’d have a good chance of getting them right if you spoke to any random person on the street.

And she told me some things that I do not know how she knew.

She said I was some kind of doctoral student, which at the time I was.

Astonished, I asked her how she knew that. She ignored me. She was busy. Talking to the spirits.

(I would like to say that, unusually for me, my car was clean and tidy. I looked around and could see nothing that gave away that I was a Ph.D. student. Later, when I got home, I sat in the passenger seat and looked around again. I couldn’t see any clues as to me being a student. Or any clues as to me being or not being anything. I asked my flatmate look through my car looking for some clues my passenger may have seen. She couldn’t see anything either.)

Then my passenger told me I was going to meet someone who was going to take me overseas and introduce me to a world of science and politics.

She told me I needed to be ready.

She then turned her head and looked directly at me. “You need to tidy your bedroom”.

When I told my friends this, they cracked up laughing. They knew my bedroom was a pigsty.

At the time I was flatting in a nice house, but I struggled with my tiny bedroom. There was no storage. Books and papers were piled everywhere. I was unhappy with the chaotic mess and had been whining about it to all and sundry.

But how the hell did she know my bedroom was pathologically messy?! If I’d been having a scruffy day, or my car was messy, I could understand it. But I was nicely dressed, as befitted the funeral, and my car was unusually clean and tidy.

I’ve been wondering whether to extract a moral from this story, and have decided I will.

Here goes.

The clairvoyant dominatrix told me “You’re quite brilliant”.

“Why thank you”, I murmured.

“But”, she said (“No no”, I thought, “Please, no buts. I want to be brilliant. Please just let me be brilliant”) “You have blocks in the way”.

I think she was as accurate about my blocks as the state of my bedroom. And I know exactly what those blocks were.

Fear.

She got out of the car and strode off into the city sunset.

That’s what happened.

P.S. Dear Clairvoyant Dominatrix, should you ever happen to read this, I would like you to know that I have made substantial progress with my blocks. And my bedroom is much tidier.

 

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Procrastination is a phobia – and can be cured like one  It’s true. It’s also true that procrastination is not caused by laziness. (Quite aside from the fact that there is no such psychological construct known as ‘laziness’)

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Want to share your ‘stranger than fiction’ experiences? I know lots of people had had them and I’d love to hear about yours, and especially – as this is a psychology blog – how the experience has affected you. Please leave your comments below.