Welp, the OCeeker just scared the Shirley MacLaine out of a psychic.
Located in an upstairs office in an industrial complex at Grace Lane and Baker Street, the smell of sage wafted through the halls as soft New Age music could be heard upon entrance to the meditation circle. The cozy little room was lit dimly by an orange lamp in the corner.
Before the meditation, we were joined by a guy named Chris, and a man and woman whose names the OCeeker forgets. (Need to get the memory Reiki-fied!) The woman mentioned that the OCeeker's hands were nice and warm. That's what she said, heh. Anyway, everyone there was friendly. They even made small talk about Costa Rica, which reminded the OCeeker that he's the only white guy in America who hasn't visited there.
It was Reiki time, so they pulled the bed from the corner, and unfolded a massage table. The OCeeker quickly hit the couch to see what exactly was gonna get pulled out of people. If they could pull out the bitter sentimentality and leave in the assholic charm, he might be down.
Anonyguy had some negative energy pulled from around his right knee. Kelly giggled a bit. They each stood up, looking relaxed and filled with new Chakra juice.
She took her time. Peeking once, the OCeeker spotted her moving behind him, and with his lusty brown eyes closed, he could sense her hand over them. Then he got the theme song to “Alice” stuck in his head.
He opened his eyes, and she was standing to his right, staring at him, with a clear look of concern. Still lying on his back, she asked the OCeeker how he felt. The room was quiet, darker with the evening settled upon us.
Jessica stared at the OCeeker again.
And just as he had ambled into the healing center, the OCeeker ambled on out the door.