“Psychics” are big on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast, just north of the state capital, Brisbane. Other Australians regard the area as the Deep North, the antipodean equivalent of the USAs Deep South.
A local radio station carried an evening program in which a “psychic” appeared regularly. The usual flummery – calls from listeners (usually younger women) wanting forecasts of their love-lives, jobs, happiness etc., followed by confident replies from the “psychic” together with supportive clucking noises from the credulous anchor entity. Then the “psychic” made a classic blooper:
Caller: “Will I meet someone?”
Psychic: “Yes of course you will, darling. I see you dancing – you dance so well! – and meeting that man and dancing through life together, you know what I mean?”
Caller: “But I’m confined to a wheelchair…”
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