(bryanism on: Intuitive Experiences --> Conspiracy Theory)
I was at the coffee shop doing creative writing, when I noticed a steady pick-up in customer traffic at the register, while most new customers began sitting and drinking instead of leaving.
Although I'm a people person who enjoys a rubust social scene, I couldn't concentrate, so I grabbed my things and went to the upper level, which was still relatively quiet populated mainly by med and law students. 
As I got situated at my new table, I noticed my keys were missing. Thinking I left them at my original booth, I went back downstairs to investigate. When I got to the table there were already four people sitting there, folk I recognized in passing, but not friends with. 
I approached them asking, "I'm checking the table to see if my keys are still here."
All four scanned the table in front of them, while one out four shrugged her shoulders. 
"Thanks anyway, guys," I saluted and walked over to the condiment area, but still no keys.
As I walked upstairs again, I couldn't help but glance back at the four sitting in my original booth, which is when I began picking up signals that expanded into a full-blown conversation they were having about me delivered to my conscious mind via what some call an information blast. 
I sat back at my new table, wondering how I would approach them again regarding my keys, thinking to myself, "Come on guys, don't make me do that..."
Yet, I knew what I had to do, besides my creative writing wasn't happening.
I descended the stairs for the very last time and walked right back to their booth pointing out one guy in particular to request, "Could you please move from your spot? My keys are under you, I think," although I really knew for sure.
Every face at that booth went pale white, as the man I'd pointed out handed me my keys, which were actually resting in the space where the upper and lower leather cushion meet.
Without making an incident out of it, I said, "Thanks," meeting eyes with each one separately with a knowing smile, wink and a nod.
As I walked up the stairs, I looked back over at them.
They were speechless, looking at each other the way the Brady Bunch (Family) do in their cubicles as the show comes on, which bothered me still, until I sent the thought, "Yeah, what you heard about me is correct -- I'm psychic like the local newspaper reported. Now that I passed your test, will you guys get over it...get on with your day?"