It started with the song "King Kong" by Jibbs. I was driving home from a long day of digging for the truth. The infectious song came on, and I couldn't help but start wiggling my butt in the seat, bobbing my head, and singing along: "Let's get this cheese like a deli." I got too excited and drove over a median. The tire splattered on impact, and I had to push my car off into a parking lot. That's where I saw the five-dollar bill. Just laying there, waiting to be held. I picked it up and slid it in my pocket. I turned to go back to my car, and I saw a sign that read: "Fortune Teller, five-dollar special." Talk about fate. And a great deal to boot. So I forgot about the tire changing business and plopped my new fiver on this lady's tapestry-covered table.

She had a bright blue crystal ball that was plugged into an extension cord. There were pictures of dragons and fairies on the wall. The smoke from the incense billowed up and filled the dim room. The fortuneteller was a big lady with skin the color of Werther's Original. She had breasts that hung down on her knees, Samsonite luggage under her eyes, and a mustache a la Ted Nugent.

"Oooh," she said, "I sense something strong with you."

I was hooked. Strong? Definitely right on. I sat on the wicker chair in front of her and waited.

"You have a special power, " she continued, "… a special power you have yet to discover." The rest was mumbling, speaking in tongues, and something about me jumping to conclusions. But I had heard enough. A special power? I’d always suspected as much.

I was a superhero with some latent super ability. I could save the world from its vile self. I could do better than just investigative reporting; more than merely pointing out what is wrong, I could beat it into a pulp or zap it down to its atomic structure.

I rushed home to try and discover what kind of hero I would be: Spider-Man, Dr. Strange, Sandman? First I hopped off my roof (found an old Frisbee) and tried to fly. Nope. A broken leg and set of bruised ribs told me I wouldn't be flying. Fine, not all that exciting anyway. Next up, lasers out of my eyes (in the style of Cyclops). I stood in front of a bottle of Yoo-hoo and tried to shatter it with blazing beams of energy. I got a migraine instead. No matter. Could I walk through walls maybe? Nope, but I discovered I can sew my own stitches along my forehead, which is good to know. I thought I could do some telekinesis, but it turns out the TV turned on because I sat on the remote, not because of a Jean Grey-esque skill set. I tried to wall crawl along the side of my house, but a neighbor called the police thinking I was doing some burglarizing. After that was cleared up, I tried to lift a car over my head while spitting out snappy lines of dialogue. I did manage to do it once, but I was on PCP for that try, so it doesn't really count. Super-speed maybe? No, just below average speed and the agility to keep upright after tripping over a garden gnome. You won't get into the Justice League with that. I tried to teleport across town but had to resort to taking a taxi instead.

What was it that I had that could better the human race, that’d enable me to save ladies from the clutches of monster and wanna-be world destroyers? I searched and searched within myself and ended up in the hospital more than Tim Allen on Home Improvement. I tried shadow melding, radar, changing shape/size, and speaking to/controlling animals. But the only thing I found out is that I bleed, break, and cry like a shitty baby just like anyone else.

I had given up at that point and went to T.G.I.Friday's for dinner with my brother. He started asking me for money, hitting me with this sob story about his job cutting his hours. That's when it hit me.

My power is seeing through people's bullshit. It’s effortless. They blab and fabricate, and I know the truth no matter where it hides. Haley Joel can see dead people; I can see that they are lying. The illusion of lies is transparent. I called an ex and asked her how I was as a lover. Lies. I drove by someone getting a ticket and bullshitting to the officer. I nearly blew another tire giving myself a high five.

This won't get me inducted into the X-Men or anything, but I will use this power for good. Of course, I can't help but use it when buying a house (Somebody was murdered here, this is no tomato juice stain!), chatting on-line (You're not a hot, eighteen-year-old girl after all!), and general dealings with others. But mostly I am going to use it to bring the truth to the people. I will interview the high ups and decipher what they really mean. I will dig and dig until the truth is gurgling up like a backed-up septic tank. And I will do it with no hoopla, cape, or an “S” on my chest. You're welcome.