I've often thought that writing fortunes for fortune cookies would be a dream job. In fact, after reading this, I even wrote one company to see if they needed any freelance help.
I never heard from them, so I assume the answer was no.
But I was pretty thorough in my application e-mail and even went so far as to include what I thought fortunes were lacking these days. Namely a sense of fun. And menace.
Like: "Nobody is fooled by that toupee."
Or: "Stop kidding yourself. You didn't almost go to Penn; you got waitlisted. Move on."
Or: "Your goldfish has nothing but contempt for you. Be vigilant."
Or: "Wednesday will bring only sorrow. Remain inside. Under the kitchen table."
I bring this up because in some kind of karmic payback, I opened my fortune cookie on Sunday night and got the following message: "You will soon be crossing the great waters."
Now I'm no expert on world religions, but I'm pretty sure that this is a metaphor for death.
Mind you, it was my second fortune cookie [nobody else in the house eats them], so I'm not sure if it even counts. My first one said "You have many friends" or something completely non-fortuney like that.
Clearly, whatever it was, it made nothing like the impression that the grim reaper of fortunes made.
Still, I can't help thinking that I've got grounds for an intellectual property suit.
Unsettling messages on tiny rectangles of paper was totally my idea.
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