True Fortune Cookie story
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It was a new Chinese buffet restaurant and it didn't last very long.
The proprietors were young, hip, and way too modern.
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For one thing, they got their fortune cookies from a different source than all other restaurants --the fun kind of fortune cookie which is specific and definite.
My fortune, for example:
"A tall, hot blonde will enter your life today."
Zowie!
That put a bit of pep in my step!
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It was a torrid Texas summer and my bike ride included a rather daunting hill to be crested in 100+ heat.
I could barely see at the top, the Starbucks looked like a trip to Pluto by slow rocket ship.
Grunt, peddle, grunt ...
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I forced myself to stop off at the drive-in Quik-Trip for air-conditioning and--naughty boy that I am--a chocolate eclair!
Strictly for energy purposes, mind you...
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There is a new cashier standing at the register. She is obviously a tall blonde!
Something stirs in the back of my mind.
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When I placed my eclair on the counter, I said to her:
"Yes, yes--I know what you're thinking to yourself, 'Here's a man who lives with danger.' You have no idea how right you are."
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She couldn't have been older than 29.
She beamed a smile as bright as those spot lights used at Hollywood premieres.
Her face was glamorous, with large blue eyes, arched eyebrows and pouty lips gleaming with Technicolor lipstick.
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Her voice was as honey on the vine:
"Where are you from?"
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Ever the Nerd, I couldn't help myself:
"Depends on what you mean by 'from'--I was born in Detroit, I grew up in Texas, but lived in Redondo Beach ten years in California."
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Now, whatever I had expected she might say, none of it was what she actually said:
"I can hear all those places in your weird accent."
??? That stumbled my self image.
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I paid the sixty cents and declined my receipt with the words:
"No thanks, I have no desire to be reminded of this crime against health I've perpetrated here."
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She gave me the kind of peculiar look women always give me when I turn out to be
who I am rather than
who they thought I was going to be.
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Disappointed in the damn fortune cookie and it's nasty sense of irony, I chugged up the hill to Starbucks.
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My T-shirt is soggy with sweat now as I enter and approach the barista at the counter.
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"Coffee of the Day." I blurted groggy from heat.
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"Which blend and what size?" He asked.
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"You know what? Surprise me! I'm living dangerously today." I croaked wearily.
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The barista is an extremely extroverted young man who fancies himself a comedian.
We all know the type.
He dispenses the coffee (and wit) and hands me the cup saying:
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" Just what you've always wanted, a hot, tall blonde ...roast. "
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Ya know--I'm glad that Chinese restaurant went belly up!