If you haven't read "Intuition is a Buzzkill - Part 1," do that first. I wrote it two weeks ago.
I went to Wal-Mart again tonight. I planned to spend twenty bucks. I spent ninety. It only would've been shocking if I had spent what I planned; which tells me I should just quit planning shit all together.
About 50 dollars into my trip, I made my way to the cereal aisle. I had planned to buy one of those cereals that are made for people like me who are still young but are no longer retard-young. If you don't know what retard-young is, it's this Someone who is retard young is at that age where he can be acting like a complete idiot in front of older people, but the older people don't get completely offended, they just look at him and think, "Yeah, he's acting like a retard, but he's young. I guess he doesn't know any better, yet."
I'm not that young any more. I do know better. Sure, I look that young, but I'm not. I actually now crave these cereals with yogurt and twigs and shit in them. Don't get me wrong, I'm not eating straight up fiber like a grandpa. I still make sure there's dried up and cranberries or maybe some honey mixed in the bowl, but I'm at the point where I just can't eat Lucky Charms every day. (Every other day, maybe.)
Once I thew my cereal in the cart, I rushed down the aisle to get out. But before I could escape, something stopped me. It was that damn Fruity Cheerios section, again. The Fruity Cheerios that promise an ATM card full of money in one out of every ten boxes. The last time I battled these boxes, I won. Due to the fact that some psychotic random guy named intuition jumped out of my head and appeared as an invisible hologram beside me telling me which box to pick. Was he to appear again? I didn't know if he would show.
"Hey, asshoooooooole! I'm beeeeeyack!"
It was him. He was back. It was the guy that lives inside my brain that is never wrong. There he was, invisible, standing beside me, ready to tell me that he knew something that I needed to act on, but only if I had complete faith in him.
Me: Oh great, you again. Let me guess, you're gonna tell me which box to pick.
Guy Living Inside My Brain: Well, do you want money or not?
Me: Yes. But you are really annoying about telling me stuff. Can you be fun this time?
Guy: No I can't. I am two things. One, I'm a dick. And two, I'm a dick who is never wrong. Now take the first box.
Me: You meant to say you were three things, because you're also boring. Lately, all you do is tell me to pick the first box. That's lame.
Guy: Lame? You always win don't you? You wanna call that lame. I could quit showing up and showing you the money. Would you like that?
Me: No, sir. I'll take the box. Even if it's the boring first box.
Guy: Hey, if you don't want money, I'll take it.
Me: What do guys in my head spend money on?
Guy: Hit men.
Guy: Nothing. I gotta take. Enjoy your five bucks.
Me: Hey, you fuck, you didn't tell me it was gonna be the smallest prize again. How come you never tell me where the 25 dollar prizes are.
Guy: (As he was fading away into the air): Maybe because you never thank me for what I do give you, you priiiiiiiiiick!------------------------------------------------------------------
So when I got home to unload my groceries, I unpacked in the kitchen while my roommate was in the room cooking burgers. I hadn't opened the cereal in front of him. I wanted to make a big show of it. He doesn't believe in ghosts or blind intuition; much less invisible brain-jerks that tell you how to win. So I decided not to mention the guy in my brain. Instead, I gave myself all the credit before it happened. I said, "Kev, I've done the math. The odds of me picking a box with one card in it are obviously 1 in 10. But the odds of me doing it twice in two tries are only 1 in a HUNDRED. My man - I said, MY MAN, are you ready to witness one in a hundred?!"
Kev, said, "Man, you're selling this so well, I'm starting to believe it might happen. Open the box!
I said, "All right, but I'm already telling you ahead of time. I'm winning money again."
I opened the top of the cardboard, pulled the bag of cereal out of the box and threw it onto the floor. Then I turned the box completely upside and dumped a rectangle covered in foil on the floor and yelled, "Boom, Beee-yotch. And there is the money I promised you!"
I still had to open it up the foil to pull the ATM card out. As I opened it, Kev said, "You think you're gettin' 5, 10, or 25 bucks?"
I said, "Oh, don't get excited it's gonna just be five. I know."
And then I pulled out the card and showed him the five bucks I had one. He was impressed that I told him I was going to win and then actually won. I couldn't bring myself to tell him I cheated. Some invisible hologram-guy from my head told me.