Tag Archives: fortune cookies

statement cookies (update)

My Chinese establishment of choice did it to me again… and again… and again.  They raped me… of a real fortune.  They, or their fortune cookie contractor, didn’t stick a precognition in my cookie.  Luckily this time I forfeited delivery service in favor of personally picking up my Broccoli and Chicken to guarantee procurement of an actual prognostication.

Befuddlement flashed across the cashier’s face as my thick fingertips labored to navigate the tiny knots in the plastic take out bag.  After a few minutes I managed to crack open dessert and unlock their first forecasting gem:

NOT a fortune.  It’s a statement, and a highly subjective one at that.  And it’s partially, if not entirely, in the wrong tense.  Fortunes need to be in future or present tense followed by a prediction in future tense based on the statement in the present tense.  This non-fortune could have been turned into a fortune if the fortune cookie writer had added a prediction of some impressive future feat based on the subjective appreciation of my sense of humor.

But they didn’t, so I demanded another cookie.  More befuddlement was followed by cookie relinquishment and this:

STATEMENT.  Again.  WRONG tense.  Again.  My eyes already magnetized the secret admirer.  What now?  Is she a babe?  Is she a stalker?  Should I be looking over my shoulder and cocking my pistol?  Help a single brother out with more conclusive intel, Mr. Fortune Cookieman.

But he didn’t, so I demanded another cookie.  At this point befuddlement had turned into full blown apathy and eventually this beauty:

LAME… and incredibly self aggrandizing if the biggest decision I made all day was what to eat for dinner.  Technically it qualifies as a fortune because it’s written in future tense, but since I received it at the end of the day it’s based almost entirely on past events.  If I had ordered Chinese for breakfast I would have accepted it.

But I didn’t, and another cookie, with the following fortune, was placed in my hand before I could demand it:

Sweet… though my project would probably gain more momentum if I hadn’t just lost thirty minutes picking up Chinese food and fighting for fortune cookies with fortunes from a befuddled, and eventually apathetic cashier.

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statement cookies

I’ve grown increasingly disgruntled with my local Chinese establishment… not for the heaping helping of toothsome Chicken and Broccoli that I look forward to on a thrice/monthly basis, but for the fortune impostors they – or their vendors – have been sticking in my cookie.

For years, I’ve petitioned fortune cookie writers to take more chances, and to be more specific with their personalized predictions.  I’ve implored them to select exact dates well into the future so as not to be confined by truth and fact – feeling it unfair to hold them to a higher standard than news media – when entertaining us at the end of a meal with fantastic feats yet accomplished.  Instead of taking this advice, and filling my head with yarns predicting, “You will be debauched by a pair of non-blood related Estonian Victoria’s Secret model cousins in your crappy studio apartment on February 13, 2016,” I was recently left with, “Your mind is creative, original, and alert.”

Boring.  Debatable.  And most importantly… NOT a fortune.  Mister Dictionary – not an overly excitable but very accommodating British bloke – states that to tell someone’s fortune is to, “inform someone of future events in his or her own life.”  There is no future event or power referenced in the only surviving memento from last night’s dinner.  There is no prognostication of Robin Hood-type pirating adventures in a corporate-run world government in 2023.  And there is most definitely no mention of scantily clad quasi-kinfolk debauching me in my apartment in 2016 (that one would be laminated and tucked into my wallet).

Instead I was left with a statement… which is something stated… which could be a fortune… but might not be.

I don’t ask for much.  But I demand a fortune in my fortune cookie… or call them what they’ve become… statement cookies.

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