Over the weekend, my local metaphysical shop had a psychic fair. That means steep discounts on tarot readings from one of my favorite readers. As soon as I find out he's available, I hop in my car, bundle my huge preggo butt up (damn...coat won't zip over belly, that's ok turn car heat on full blast, I can do this) and drive on over.

Here's the short version - I'll do a longer one on my blog:
After pre-paying for my reading, and doing a raffle while I wait (about $50 in total, before tip), the shop owner refuses to let me use the bathroom despite the fact that I’m eight months pregnant, a fairly regular customer, and look like I’m smuggling bowling balls under my shirt. It was a true emergency too.

She just looks at me, and shakes her head and says in a cunty tone: Sorry, if I let you use it, I'll have to let everyone else use it too. (Like every patron in the store is suddenly going to rush up to her, insisting that they too should be able to use the bathroom if the pregnant woman got to…)![]

Mind you - I'm waiting in the shop for the reading I just paid for. I've already been waiting 20 minutes at this point...

In the past, the co-owner (guy I was about to see for my reading) and other employees have allowed me to use it in far less urgent situations.

It had just snowed, was extremely cold, and sidewalks were extra slippery – but it was either pee on their floor, or waddle up the half a block to use a public restroom in the pharmacy plaza. I so graciously chose the latter.

Who the fuck does that to a paying customer -never mind a pregnant one (on a 22 degree farenheit day). They also claim to be all about supporting women - like are you fucking kidding me? Turkey jowled clairvoyant C*NT - at least lie and tell me your bathroom doesn't work. Don't look me in the eye, after I've given you my money and tell me I can't use a bathroom because in your demented world people have a fetish for using public restrooms or something. Blessed be my ass.