Let’s set the Wayback Machine to 1999. I’ve been diagnosed with an eye problem that will require surgery. Both the problem and the surgery to correct it are rather "squishy" and I’ll spare you the details. I’ll also spare you the suspense, since it’s not relevant to the story: the procedure was successful and my eyes are fine.
With the ever-increasing number of pagans at the New York Ren Faire, in five years we could do it skyclad. "Authentic medieval renaissance nudity!"
It was the palm readings that lead to my gradual disenchantment with reading at the Faire.
Question: What do the other readers on Mystics Way call you when you’ve been reading at the Ren Faire for 14 seasons?
(This post is part of a series that goes over why, after 13 years, I’m leaving the New York Ren Faire.)
Walk through the gates of the New York Renaissance Faire. Continue straight along Spendepenny Lane. You come to the Hawker’s Crossing Tavern. Bear left at the fork, and you’re on Mystics Way. There you find the largest gathering of psychic readers to be found at any Ren Faire.