Fortune Cookies
The most accurate fortune cookie fortune I ever had said simply, “Look about you before you leap.” Just moments later, a delivery truck jumped the curb and came crashing through the Chinese restaurant’s window. If I hadn’t read that fortune, I would have been a dead duck. Much like those near the window. (Don’t worry; they were dead before the truck hit them. Also, they were literal ducks.)
It was scary, but I think I could have brushed it off if not for the next time I got Chinese food. I opened up my cookie, and my fortune said, “You are almost there.” Here’s the thing: I was eating my fortune on the walk home from the restaurant. Guess where I read that fortune? On my front steps! What the what?!
Ever since then, I’ve avoided fortune cookies at all costs. Too strong mojo for this guy. Sure, “You are going to have some new clothes” sounds benign. But, isn’t it creepy that you are, indeed, going to get new clothes at some point? I mean, you have to buy new clothes eventually, right? And, is that because your old clothes wore out, or is some rigid, unchangeable fate emanating forward through time from that fortune cookie?
My wife once got the fortune “Tonight you will be blinded by passion.” She just laughed it off. At worst, she thought it was a hopeful metaphor. If I had gotten that fortune, I would have gotten a thumb in my eye during the big show. I just know it.
My friends say I’m being superstitious and that it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. Like I’m the one causing it. What about when I got “You will be successful at work” as a fortune? The next day, we had a last-minute pitch meeting scheduled, and I work diligently throughout the night to get ready. The pitch was a rousing success. Does that sound like me? I don’t think so. It’s these accursed fortune cookies.
I can’t be happy knowing that much power lies crumpled up inside crunchy, sweet dough. It’s unsettling. Let’s say I get the fortune, “You life will be quiet and peaceful.” Will I go deaf? Will I go into a coma? Will I get a lobotomy? Whatever it is, it’s unnatural. Clearly the man before you now is not meant to have a peaceful life.
It’s gotten to the point where when I see an Asian man carrying a plastic bag, I run away. Which is awkwardly racist, I know. But, what am I supposed to do? Just sit there and let my sinister destiny be sealed by a slip of paper?
The worst part of it is that I love lo mein. I miss it so much. But, it’s not worth a brush against the Dark Arts.
