Sunday, October 30, 2011

Banned for Life by NYC Tarot Reading Practice Club : The Triumph of my Ejection

To date, I haven't been kicked out too many times. One time I was kicked out of the Madison YMCA but it was really a passive-aggressive sort of ousting. It was like a dip in lake lackluster. I don't know about you, but if I'm going to get my ass forcibly removed, I'd prefer more of a chuck norris roundhouse kickin' what the fuck cowboy kind of thing then a moment mostly defined by pointed glares and fingers tapping on clipboards.

Another time, I got kicked out of the Bubble Lounge in TriBeCa. Unfortunately, I was not the manager's focal point, merely a somewhat less than innocent bystander unworthy of specific attention. This Bubble Lounge turmult was a take two of the first time I proved myself lousy at disorderly conduct. In the early '90s, Carrine cleaned the clock of a drunken, drink-tossing Asian shortie and Tom somehow got thrown out for getting in the middle.

I couldn't even manage to get kicked out of the Girl Scouts like Nikki for "inappropriate dress and foul language" despite the fact that I excel at both. I'm always the bridesmaid, never the one who gets shoved out the backdoor on her petard.
But yesterday, I had my day in the sun. I got kicked out of the NYC tarot reading practice club. Granted, it went down beneath the impersonal shroud of the internet, but nonetheless, I found the whole affair really rousing.

Here's the play-by-play:
  1. The new club president, this long-haired velvet-wearing chick named Chea, starts charging $40 for meetings, promising arcane learnings well worth the cash outlay.
  2. Nobody, for the most part, comes to her meetings.
  3. Chea sends out a series of nasty emails berating club members for not coming to her meetings and begging someone to tell her why
  4. I succumb to her plea and send her an email articulating, among several other things:
    • my indignation for clearly believing that I am so retarded as to not recognize that this "club" is now a for-profit business venture.
    • my resentment at being held accountable for her success as a business owner, as evidenced by the chastizing tone of her lengthy and frequent emails.
  5. I receive an email stating that I have been "banned for life from NYC Tarot Club."
Ho ho! Look at me feeling the door banging my ass on the way out.
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