“Hey, Joe! How’s it hanging, big guy?”

“Not so good, Harry. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

“Really? What seems to be the problem, Joe?”

“It’s my life, Harry. There’s just too many decisions. Which pair of socks to wear. Which shirt goes with which tie. Am I hetro or metro? I swear, if I have to make another choice, I’m gonna grab my rifle and climb the bell tower.”

“Relax, Joe. Take it easy. You know what you should do? You should see a concert.”

“Don’t start on me about concerts, Harry. It’s concerts that got me into this mess in the first place. I mean, have you looked at the listings? There’s thousands of shows coming up, and I just can’t make a decision. Should I see Bette Midler or the Finn Brothers? What if I buy tickets for Green Day? Will I have enough money left over to see The Divine Comedy? Those are more decisions than I want to deal with.”

“I hear you, Joe. In fact, I was once like you.”

“You were?”

“Oh, yeah. I couldn’t make a decision to save my life. Having to choose between Ryan Adams and Bryan Adams would bring on full-fledge panic attacks. Yes, my life was a total mess. Just like yours. That is, until I met Madame Zola.”

“Madame Zola? Who is Madame Zola.”

“Only the best concert psychic in the business.”

“Concert psychic?”

“You got it, Joe. Madame Zola sees all, knows all, tells all. For a small fee, of course.”

“And this Madame Zola helped you?”

“Helped me? Heck, Joe, Madame Zola saved my life. She’s a full-service psychic. No matter what your paranormal needs, from fortune telling to reading chicken entrails, Madame Zola can put you on the right path to concert bliss. Remember last spring when I felt so depressed over missing that blink-182 concert that I tried to snort all the printer toner?”

“Sure I remember. We couldn’t print anything for a week.”

“It was after that incident that I met Madame Zola. She predicted that the band would play Australia the same time I would have to take my wombat back to Melbourne for his annual medical checkup.”

“Wow! That’s… That’s… That’s uncanny, Harry.”

“That’s Madame Zola, Joe. From channeling the ghost of Bill Graham to mixing up a love potion which guarantees the buyer that he’ll date Hilary Duff when she grows up, Madame Zola is THE concert psychic.”

“Say no more, Harry. I’m sold! But where do I find Madame Zola? Is she in the Yellow Pages?”

“She has a little office in the financial district.”

“Wait a minute, Harry. You’re telling me this… this… this concert psychic has an office in the financial district, and that she can predict who I’ll see before I even know the band or artist is coming to town? I find that a little hard to swallow.”

“Then don’t believe me, Joe. Instead, just watch her show on HBO where she shows her audience how to cast spells on local promoters so that they’ll price all their tickets, including the ones for Beastie Boys, Norah Jones and Scissor Sisters, at ten dollars or less.”

“What? A show on HBO? Now I know you’re joshing me, Harry.”

“Am not. Madame Zola’s show is one of the highest rated shows ever to appear on HBO.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I kid you not, Joe. Haven’t you ever heard of Hex In The City?”