Feng Shui? I like a red front door and all, but I seriously doubt my landlord would reset the concrete foundation to gain a more harmonious exposure. Bad luck be damned, my toilet seat stays up. Sure, I should clean out my junk drawer, but then, where would I keep the junk? Of course, my disinterest in the popular design religion was changed when cash hit the table.
My foodie friend Tara fell into good fortune when she got her Feng Shui Fish. It seems that a small investment into a tank, water and nine fish will yield a prosperous wallet and a fortunate life. All it takes are eight lucky goldfish, a big black fish to protect them and your life shall change for the better. Once my pal got her aquarium populated, her phone began to ring with prosperity.
I am no fool when it comes to easy cash. I quickly purchased the necessary aquarium, oxygenator and a jar of Tartar Sauce should the project go south. I bought my nine little fishies, ensconced them in their new home and gave them each a name. I then sat by the mailbox waiting for the dough to come in.
The next day, MaryJane was floating rather than swimming. I said a silent prayer, gave her a burial at sea and flushed the toilet.
The next day I replaced my fallen solider with MaryJane Junior. You see, one need not fear the death of a Feng Shui Fish. When they die, it is as if the fish are taking a hit for you. I slept well that night knowing that some personal disaster had been adverted. I was untouchable for I had nine bodyguards swimming for my safety.
The following morning I woke to find that Ziggy and Snoozy were not among the living. I started to get nervous. Rather quickly, I introduced Ziggy Two and Snoozy Junior to their new fish family. Why were these fish sacrificing themselves so quickly? What sudden misfortune was I escaping?
The next day I returned home to find another soldier down. Marley was no longer flipping his gills. What was happening? Am I a bad man? Have I caused anyone harm? Is someone out to get me? I began to take stock of my life. I made a mental note to stop kicking the dog. I vowed to be much nicer to my fellow man.
With gratitude and a bit of guilt, I threw the new cast member Bob into the Aquarium of Death. I hoped for the best but feared the worst.
Should I expect a tax audit? Are my arteries clogging? What does it mean if all the fish die at once? I now duck when I hear a plane overhead. I'm afraid an octogenarian with a driver's license and a Cadillac is gonna take me out in a crosswalk. I think I may need some meds for my mounting paranoia.
I was better off without any fish but now I'm too frightened to get rid of them. And wouldn't ya know it? Prosperity has yet to cross my transom and the daily trips to the Chinese fish store are costing me a fortune.
Gordy Grundy is a Los Angeles based artist. He volunteers his free time as the Messenger to the Fellowship of Fortuna. Get ready for the New Age of Aquarius, the Modern Era of Marvel and the Revolution of Reason, at www.LuckyFortuna.com.
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