[Editor’s Note: “Your Skeptic Stories” is an ongoing series written by readers like you, people who have, through one means or another, discovered skepticism and critical thinking. These stories remind us that we all started somewhere and some of us are still finding our way as skeptics If you are interested in contributing your own story, please submit your piece of around 1000 words to maria (at) randi.org along with a short 2-3 line bio.
Today’s story comes from Josh]
My name is Josh Hunt, and I am a skeptic. I wasn’t always a skeptic, though. As a skeptic, you might be asked, “What’s the harm in believing in the paranormal?” You might even be asked why skepticism is important. I have an answer to both questions, and it comes in the form of a personal story.
In 2004, when I was eighteen, I moved to New York City to study and pursue a career in acting. I had gotten a regular job taking room-service orders. I remember feeling very out of place and very uncertain about what I was doing with my life. I had so many questions that I wanted answered, but I didn’t know who to ask. Was I supposed to be in New York City? Was I supposed to be an actor? Would I be working in a job I hated for the rest of my life? Who would have the answer to these questions? Maybe a psychic would.
One day, on my thirty minute break, I was walking around lower Manhattan when I saw an advertisement for a local psychic. The fee was ten dollars, and I figured I spend more than that on junk food and porn. I called the psychic, and a woman’s voice came on the phone. I told her that I was interested in getting a reading done. She said that her name was Crystal and that she would see me the next afternoon.
I can describe Crystal only as a sweet elderly aunt or grandmother with an accent. I sat down, and she began the reading by staring at me and then looking me up and down. She told me that I had a dark aura and that “bad spirits” were causing it. Crystal said that these spirits were keeping me from achieving my goals and reaching my fullest potential. Before I left, I asked her if I was meant to be an actor, and I also told her that I was working at a job I didn’t like. I had just given her all of the information that she would ever need.
I came back a day or so after that, and she told me exactly what I wanted to hear: There were people in Los Angeles talking about me, and I would start shooting a movie in a few months. A question that I should’ve asked her was how could people in Los Angeles be talking about me when they didn’t even know I exist? At that point I had never even sent my picture and resume to anyone in Los Angeles. But Crystal was telling me exactly what I wanted to hear, and that’s all that mattered to me.
Crystal told me that we needed to get rid of these bad spirits...and fast. She told me to get a glass jar, clean it out completely, tear off the label, and fill it with water from the tap in my kitchen. She also instructed me to put the jar of water in two plastic shopping bags (one inside the other) and put it somewhere where no light would touch it. I went ahead and put it under my bed. When I brought the jar of water back to Crystal, she said that if what she was about to do worked, then the water would go from clean to dirty. She began to pray over the jar of water, speaking louder and louder. Crystal revealed the jar to me with a gasp - the water was dirty! It went from clean to dirty right before my eyes. From that point onward, any skepticism I held was now gone: I was convinced that this woman was the real deal. At no point did the words magic trick, sleight of hand, or self-deception enter my mind. Crystal performed the jar trick one more time. She told me that I had something like cancer in my stomach and took a different jar of water and turned it red. The red, which obviously resembled blood, convinced me even further that this woman was the real deal.
Crystal had informed me that there were “bad spirits” surrounding my money, but she could take these bad spirits away. She asked me how much money I could get to her. I told her about five to six hundred dollars, and immediately raced out, went to an ATM, and got out about five hundred dollars. I brought it back to her and she prayed over it and told me she would bless it by bringing it to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Crystal kept telling me that she would give me my money back, but she kept stalling. She then told me to quit my job because I was not meant to work there. I put in my two weeks’ notice and felt very scared and uneasy. Well, she did give me a candle with Jesus on it - surely a sweet old woman with a Jesus candle wouldn’t try to swindle me, right?