Not long ago, a good friend of mine asked me to accompany her on a trip to a little occultist store in Downtown Birmingham (whose name will go unmentioned for reasons). I'd heard stories about the store, but I had never ventured to enter the place. I knew that it specialized in mysticism and witchcraft, and as a certified cynic, I didn't really believe in such things. Yet my friend and I were doing a project that focused on African culture, and my friend wanted to cover Voodoo in the presentation. She thought it would be a great idea to pop in and buy some voodoo fetishes to show the class. Always up for an adventure, I agreed.

As soon as I pulled into the gravel-ridden parking lot, I knew I was in for a show. The day we came just so happened to be the day of their big Psychic Faire, where people of all ages could have a palm or tarot card reading for a $15 fee. I chose to use that money on getting a henna tattoo on my hand, since that was at least tangible and substantive, unlike these supposed readings.

We ran into a strange woman who chattered away about her five cats (she referred to them as her personal incarnations of the Egyptian goddess Bastet). She was a nice lady, yet she did not seem to understand the importance of personal space. The same could be said for many of the other shoppers we encountered.

The shop encouraged a ritual in which one sacrificed a token (money or whatever you had on you) to a statue of a mystical entity. There were little shrines throughout the store with statues of the elephantine Ginesh, the stoic Anubis, etc. My friend had brought with her a little paper cup filled with coins to give the statues. I followed suit and presented each statue with a coin, so as to not disturb any nearby believers. It was like bowing my head to pray in church though I am not a Christian. You perform the rituals out of respect.

We ended up buying a mummified chicken's foot and a voodoo candle. I secretly hoped that there would be some Kabbalistic materials lying around, yet there were none. The store primarily catered to pagans and wiccans. Anyway, the trip was timed perfectly. Halloween, after all, was a month and a half away, and everyone was already beginning to exude that spooky but giddy Halloween spirit. Though I left the shop without believing in the mystical powers of what they sold, I enjoyed the experience.