Carroll: Psychic powers peer into my far-off career

As a guy who looks at things on the bright side, I spend a certain amount of time every day thinking of reasons why I'm glad to not have various superpowers. To date, all of my imagined scenarios have remained purely hypothetical. Despite years of volunteering as a caretaker at Chicago's infamous Free Range Radioactive Animal Zoo, I have not acquired a single supernatural trait.

Which is why it was so shocking to find the power to see the future thrust suddenly into my grasp. At the time, I was walking down Sherman Avenue inventing downsides to this very ability: The twist ending to Iron Man 3 would already be ruined, I would have to live with the agony of knowing the Cubs won't win the World Series for another 92 years, and the kind of girl who responds well to "we're going to be married someday" as an introduction is guaranteed to be 100 percent crazy.

All of these snags vanished instantly from my mind when I saw a sign advertising psychic readings for only $5. This struck me as a great use of money, though admittedly my financial sense has been a bit distorted ever since I won $100 betting on the kids who get to take shots during halftime at NU basketball games.

I followed the sign's arrow up some stairs and knocked on a door at the top. Actually I had to knock twice, which was probably just a test to make sure I was truly committed to knowing the future. The fortune teller was obviously aware of my presence the whole time.
A small woman with big eyes opened the door and explained $5 would buy the answer to two questions. She led me past a living room where three kids could be seen goofing around in what was either a very small bedroom or just a somewhat small closet.

We sat down in two chairs facing each other, and I asked my first question. Am I going to pass my art history midterm tomorrow? She took a quick look at my palm and said, "I see that you have some doubts about whether or not you're going to pass." This could just have been because I decided to ask the question in the first place, but I think it's equally likely I've got the face of someone who would make a terrible art historian. In any case, she finally came down on the "pass" side of things, which was a relief, because it meant I didn't have to waste any more time studying for it.

My second question—what job or career will I go into after graduation—was more difficult. Even after asking to see my other hand, she struggled to find the answer. I briefly wished I had a third or fourth palm to offer up, until I realized it would just prompt an immediate response of "circus sideshow performer."

Eventually she told me I would do something working with children. I offered to tutor the kids down the hall in return for a reasonable living wage of 2,500 Chicken McNuggets per month and use of the closet-bedroom, but she quickly declined. I don't blame her for being wary of a tutor who goes to a fortune teller to make sure he's going to pass his midterm.
Speaking of which, I'll get my graded exam back sometime next week. Nannies of America, watch out. If I pass, I guess it means I'll be gunning for your job.

Weinberg junior Nate Carroll can be reached at ntc238@u.northwestern.edu.