We were greeted coolly: “Buffet or menu?”—though it was really more like a statement than a question. Following the adventurous vein, we chose the former. And ate quickly and spoke in uncomfortable whispers in the empty room while the staff waited with tired, yet piercing eyes for us to finish our plates.
The highlight of the meal—aside from the banging Mongolian chicken and the heavy as rock jell-o, was the prize awaiting me in my fortune cookie dessert:
Hooray!
and then, wait for it…
the numbers:
even has my lucky three…
no one take them, they’re mine.
3 comments:
Yesssssssssssss!!! I was just saying how hard you work, remember? All of it good too.
This does deserve congratulations.
I got that same fortune the last time I ate at that same restaurant, about about 2 years ago (give or take). Strange coincidence? Destiny? I still have it somewhere, I saw it last week when I was hunting for my nice gouache set.
4-8-15-16-23-42 were the numbers I got last time I ate there! Then I got this horrible streak of bad luck. I've spent every conscious moment of my recent days running around Center and Freedom trying to rub my bad luck off onto anyone that I see!
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