"You can take all the sincerity in Hollywood, place it in the navel of a firefly and still have room enough for three caraway seeds and a producer's heart." - Fred Allen

***

I was beset by a so-called fortune teller at Bugis Junction the other day.

As I was walking along minding my own business, this grey-haired turban-ed man came up to me and introduced himself as "Mr Singh" (helpfully, not very informative - probably so he can lie under the radar). Perhaps because his fortune-telling skills needed warming up, he needed to ask me my name.

His accent and diction made him hard to understand, but I got the jist of his scam down.

He claimed he was a fortune teller, and proceeded to do a terrible cold reading (he didn't follow up on any of his claims). He first said that I had had bad luck for the last 2 years (among his mumblings I heard something about love), but would have good luck from March (just before the new Financial Year, fancy that) in the realms of Health, Money and Love (later he added Sex). He added that I'd an old female friends for years who wasn't good for me (because she kept scolding me or something like that; I informed several suspects but they didn't think it was them).

He then threw in even more generic-sounding advice, saying that I had an open heart but was too free with secrets.

Next was his most amazing trick of the afternoon.

He wrote something in a piece of paper, crumpled it up and gave it to me to put in my hand.

I was then asked to give him a number from 5 to 9 (this was pathetic - no mentalist worth his salt would give you only 5 options) and the name of two flowers. For the former I naturally enough gave 7 and for the latter Jasmine and Chrystanthemum.

Unfortunately, his fortune-telling did not seem to extend to Chinese Flowers, so he asked for another flower; I suggested Rose (Osmanthus probably would've caused a rift in the dimensional fabric). He then asked me to choose one, and I chose the Rose (it's the flower that most easily comes to mind for people).

I was asked to blow upon the piece of paper in my fist, and when I opened it up, lo and behold - it read "7" and "Rose".

He then asked me to write down my full name, job, company, and then the punchline came - "how much you can help me" (he helpfully made this a Multiple Choice Question, with the choices being $20, $30 and $40).

For the last I pledged the princely sum of $0 ("sorry, I'm unemployed"). He said $5 was alright as well, but unfortunately I didn't have any 1 cent coins with me (I have 200+ in a bottle somewhere at home - I should bring a few out for occasions such as these).

I wasn't (and still am not) in top form due to an infection, so I didn't have the patience to play games like asking him to use his fortune telling skills to predict how much I'd give him.