Feeling mildly despondent over a recent one pound gain, after meticulously following my diet to a tee, I happened to come across the astrological forecast section of a local newspaper. Not being a true believer in these futuristic predictions, I thought maybe this bit of information (for entertainment purposes only) might bring me out of my morose condition.

I looked through the column until I found the section for Leo and read: “You will experience an unexpected gain today.” “Uncanny,” I thought. How could this astrologer accurately predict that I had gained a pound on my diet? My belief in this art form became positive. Instantly, I became addicted to these predictions.

Assuming that astrological predictions are based on planetary placements and lunar observations, it seemed only natural they would all be very similar. Similar, that is, until I picked up a copy of the TV Guide.

As I was skimming through the back of the magazine, I noticed that they had a page dedicated to foretelling the future. Thinking that I would see another mention about my gain, I read on. However, instead of a gain, it stated that I was going to take on the persona of Al Bundy and that a Pisces would be an integral part of my life. Since my girlfriend is a Pisces, I quickly looked up the Pisces prediction. It said that she would take on the persona of Peg Bundy. She jokingly commented, “Hey, it could have said Ted Bundy.”

My beliefs in these forecasts began to diminish. I needed something to verify the first column I read. Someone else had to predict the same thing.

I looked through a Cosmopolitan that was on the coffee table. I turned to the astrological section and became even more depressed. It said, “Romance would enter my life” and I would “fall for an exceedingly handsome love interest.” This wasn’t anywhere close to the other two predictions. My girlfriend tried to smooth me over with the explanation that Cosmo was geared primarily to women and that its forecasts were probably aimed toward women under that sign. “Bouillabaisse,” I screamed. My girlfriend couldn’t believe I would use such language in front of the dog. But, I was upset.

Using her women’s theory about the Cosmo predictions, I went to the store and bought a men’s magazine. I went past the centerfold and turned to my horoscope. It said that the moon was in the Seventh House and Jupiter had aligned with Mars and I would probably appear naked in a Broadway play.

I became desperate and drove to the supermarket. As I went through the checkout, I picked up a copy of the Enquirer with the headline, “Woman Denies Alien Being Is Father of Her Green, Two-Headed Baby.” I turned to their zodiacal forecast, but all it said was that I would experience an Elvis sighting at a Weight Watchers meeting in Key Biscayne.

No one could substantiate the very first prediction that I read. In fact, nobody could claim confirmation on anyone else’s guesses. The closest I came is when I called a 900 number I saw on T.V. advertising an honest-to-goodness-astrologer. After being on hold for fifteen minutes, “Madame Louisa” told me that I would experience an unexpected loss. This was true – a twenty-seven dollar charge was tagged to my phone bill!

Feeling like I had just learned that there was no Santa Claus, my girlfriend took me out for a quiet dinner at the Shanghai Gardens. I moped through my entire meal, until the end, when the waiter brought over a plate of fortune cookies. I took one and broke it open. The little slip of paper read: “You will experience an unexpected gain today.” I smiled as I got up to leave the restaurant and the seat of my pants split.