Bonded, Licensed Psychic Friend Can Lift City Curse
The first sorceress member of the Spokane Area Chamber of Commerce says she can lift the Gypsy curse hanging over our heads before we all turn into frogs.
For just $7,500, Susan Johnson vows to end a decade of bad vibes that began after Spokane police raided a Gypsy leader’s home in 1986 and seized $2 million in cash and jewels. Angry Gypsies responded by conjuring up a 50-megaton curse that they plopped on the city.
“You should see results within 24 hours of paying me,” says Johnson, 44, a South Side resident who claims to have been a wizard in some of her past lives.
I found Johnson’s name in the new members section of the May issue of “Your Chamber in Action” newsletter. The woman’s otherworldly occupation leaped off the page like a flying monkey.
Calling herself the “Sorceress of Help,” she specializes in the “psychic uncursing and protection business.” I’m not a superstitious guy, but that sounds like the medicine Spokane needs.
We’ve been afflicted with spellbinding misfortune that is far too lengthy to chronicle other than a few memorable lowlights:
The fire storm. The ice storm. The worst outbreak of crater-sized potholes since the bombing of London.
Embarrassment struck City Hall in February, when Mayor Jack Geraghty was found in contempt for failing to make support payments to his estranged wife.
Two words: Dexter Amend.
What’s next on the Lilac City’s hoodoo horizon - flesh-eating locusts?
I say we pony up the $7,500 and take our chances. Besides, Johnson offers a 30-day money back guarantee, plus a 100-year warranty.
Try to buy a new car with those terms.
Paying $280 to join the Chamber, Johnson says she also registered with the Better Business Bureau. “I want to lessen the fear that would keep people from trusting me,” she says. “I know how many people view psychics.”
Johnson is a sorceress for the high-tech ‘90s.
In the upstairs office of her modest home, a Ouija board and crystal ball share a desk with a computer and fax machine. A framed Chamber of Commerce membership certificate hangs on a wall.
She’s developed a special blend of incense and incantation to remove even the most stubborn curses. She will also de-haunt a house for 10 percent of the home’s value.
Most of us would rather live with a ghost than shell out that kind of money, but Johnson’s fee for removing the Gypsy curse strikes me as a bargain.
A still-unresolved civil rights lawsuit the Gypsies have waged against Spokane for the last 10 years has nicked taxpayers for an untold bundle in legal costs. Without giving an exact figure, city attorney Jim Sloane confirmed the bill is way more than $7,500.
Probably another quarter-million of our money was recently flushed down the privy by the U.S. attorney’s office. On Friday, bonehead feds failed to convict snarling Gypsy activist Jimmy Marx and his witless cronies for allegedly intimidating relatives who are witnesses for the city in the aforementioned civil rights suit.
We must end this Gypsy curse before it breaks us, but our leaders don’t have the smarts to call on the Sorceress of Help.
“I absolutely have no comment on this,” says City Manager Bill Pupo, between strangled laughter. “But if you’re on the street corner soliciting donations, I may drop off a quarter.”
Pupo could be right. Perhaps we need to start a grass-roots fund drive and raise Johnson’s fee ourselves.
Is anyone out there willing to open a trust account? If everyone gave a quarter, we could get this done. Any extra money will go straight to the Mayor’s Alimony Fund.
Imagine what a wonderful life we will all live in an un-cursed Spokane:
The Davenport Hotel will reopen. The potholes will fill. Downtown will become a thriving retail mecca. Area grass burners will spontaneously combust. Bloomsday will move to another city…
Who knows? With no curse hanging over our heads, I may start growing hair.
, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color photo