The Mind Reader

It’s pint night, everybody’s having a good time. There’s a guy at the bar, pretty drunk, gonna have to cut him off. But he’s not necessarily being obnoxious. He seems a bit sad, a loner. He’s trying to pick up conversations with anyone who walks by him. Going to the bathroom? Be careful. This guy’s gonna corner you.

I see a young girl at the end of the bar, her friend has just stepped out. I look over at the guy, he’s eyeing her. I can hear what’s going through his mind. Hey, there’s a girl I can talk to. She’s cute. I’m just gonna go over and talk to her. Everybody loves talking to me. Why wouldn’t they? I’m HILARIOUS. Nobody’s funnier then me. And charming? Hey, I eat the cake.

I look over at the girl. It’s almost like I can feel her responding, noticing this guy looking at her. Oh shit, she’s thinking. This old weird guy is gonna come up and talk to me. Please, please, no. Maybe if I get out my phone, text someone, go on Facebook, he won’t come over, he’ll see that I’m busy.

I look over to the guy again, he doesn’t have the ability to hear her thoughts like I can, he starts making his move over to her.

I can’t help but enjoy.

Yeah, I watch it all go down. He leans in, and does his best. She nods her head in response to his babbling, and looks around the room for any kind of help.

-Clint Curtis

johnny-carson-carnac-Large

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