Sitting in my car, finishing up lunch, wishing I didn’t have to go back to my crappy job. My last chance at fun, the fortune cookie.
Lately they had been disappointing. Not fortunes at all really, just crappy sayings. “Better work makes better friends.” What kind of fortune was that? that was my last one.
Still, I kept hoping one day I’d get one that would be real. I opened this one slowly since right afterwards I had to go back to my dreary desk in that dreary office and finish my dreary work. Then it would seem like hours and hours before I could go home to my dreary apartment. I cracked it open and read the message.
“I have an important message for you.”
Wait, what? That’s not a fortune! That was a message about a message! That’s not fair! I actually looked in the bag in case there was another cookie in there, as if. Now, I was angry! I took my broken cookie and my non-fortune and drove right back to that restaurant!
The woman at the counter refused to discuss it with me, “Too busy, too busy! Go talk to Harry!” and she waved me toward a door at the back. I went, in righteous indignation! In other words, I was being a total jerk, but didn’t care, because for the first time in months I was actually feeling something.
Harry laughed his head off at the idea that I thought the fortune cookies should actually tell fortunes. The whole time we talked, he was rushing around because they were short-handed. I started helping him just because he was so fun to talk to. I never went back to the office.
We were married three months later. Seems he owned the restaurant. Some fortune huh.