A Crocodile in Hand

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The Gypsy Tea Room has these fun little pillows you can smoosh on the couch.

One of the fun things friends and I did during our Bacolod escapade was go to a tea/coffee place, whimsically named the Gypsy Tea Room. It’s a merry mix of refreshment parlor, trinkets shop, trippy art, henna tattoos, and since gypsy is as gypsy does—a bit of chiromancy, or palm reading.

A soft-spoken gypsy gal perused each of our palms in turn, making pronouncements that had us alternately giggling and shrieking. I, for example, apparently have a sex line. The two other girls (and much later, my gurl Snow, who was spurred to have her palm read by our giddy stories), do not. For the curious, having a sex line on one’s palm, according to the palm reader, means you have a successful sex life. Uhuh. Much good that line does me. A thrilling thing to discover, nevertheless.

It became a small cause for alarm though, when the palm reader ominously told me that I have a crocodile mouth on my palm. It’s an itty-bitty line that intersects with the heart line, creating a pointed V-shape reminiscent of a croc’s mouth. This is supposed to represent an obstacle that keeps one from reaching one’s full potential. The cure? Have the croc mouth pricked by an arbularyo (medicine man). Yes, get it pricked, maybe draw blood, and I guess, neutralize the obstacle.

I’ve yet to locate a true-blue medicine man around these parts, so for now, the croc stays.


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