Had I known that the outcome of Saturday’s USC-UCLA
football game was such a closely guarded secret among the local
psychic community, I never would have approached Miss Olga this
past Tuesday morning.
But after how critical I’ve been of the Bruins this
season, I wanted to do something nice for the downtrodden UCLA
fans. I wanted to make sure we had proper warning this year. I
wanted to make sure that we aren’t slapping on some blue and
gold face paint, jangling our keys, and celebrating rivalry week
Saturday morning, only to jam our foam fingers down our throats by
halftime Saturday afternoon.
That’s where my visit to Miss Olga’s psychic shop in
Westwood came in.
Before any of us pile in our cars and head to Pasadena on
Saturday morning, I figured she could look into her crystal ball,
shuffle through her tarot cards, and tell me whether this was the
year that UCLA got its revenge. Or at least takes a lead.
Sound simple enough? Not when the psychics treat the final score
like a government secret.
Armed with the best of intentions, I tried to open Olga’s
door when I arrived at 11 a.m., but it was locked. I knocked, but
Olga didn’t appear. A vicious, barking little chihuahua named
Julio, however, did.
I thought about asking Olga why she needed a guard dog, but I
decided against it.
Once Olga emerged from the back room and unlocked the door, I
introduced myself, and asked whether she could predict what will
happen in Saturday’s game?
Olga: You’re going to have to get a tarot card reading.
That will cost $45.
JE: Well can you guarantee that the outcome of the game will
come up?
Olga: Only if I see it in the reading.
Great. Thanks, but no thanks, Olga.
Undeterred, I continued my psychic tour of Los Angeles, leaving
Westwood and heading West on Santa Monica Avenue. Once I got to
Bundy Avenue, I parked my car.
Anytime you pass a seedy liquor store, a salon, a laundromat,
and a bad Chinese restaurant, a psychic has to be nearby.
Sure enough, no more than a block away was Psychic Readings by
Dorothy, a well-furnished office with an open sign on the
window.
I tried the door. Locked again. Ridiculous.
After a 10-minute wait, Dorothy finally arrived along with a man
who proceeded to serve as her spokesman for the duration of the
conversation.
The man told me that Dorothy only dealt with personal energy and
didn’t predict football scores.
JE: Is that because you don’t know who will win?
Man: No.
JE: Well then why can’t she tell me?
Man: If she told you, we’d have lots of people coming in
here before they place their bets on the Super Bowl. We’d be
millionaires.
Right. I’m sure.
I considered giving up at this point, but for the sake of the
UCLA student body, I pressed on.
Any idiot could tell me that the Trojans are probably going to
win on Saturday. All I needed was a psychic willing to confirm
that.
No such luck on either of my next two visits.
The receptionist at Clearsight in Santa Monica refused to even
let me in the building, saying I needed an appointment. Then no one
answered the door at Doreena’s Psychic Readings, which had a
notice of impending demolition on the window.
When I tried to call to see if anyone was inside, the phone
number had been disconnected.
It’s amazing the extent these people will go to prevent me
from doing my good deed.
My last stop was an apartment owned by an elderly woman, who
advertised that she was a psychic.
I told her about the USC-UCLA game, and she said she’d be
happy to help me.
Then she asked me who was playing.
“Aren’t you the psychic?” I thought.
Once I explained it to her again and clarified the significance
of the rivalry game, she seemed to be willing to offer her insight.
Then the phone rang.
“That’s my phone. You have to leave right
now,” she told me, pushing me out the door.
Sorry, Bruin fans. Looks like we’re going to have to go to
Pasadena on Saturday at our own risk.
Eisenberg is the 2004 football columnist. E-mail him at
jeisenberg@media.ucla.edu.