The Unfortunate Fortune Cookie

I discovered I loved Chinese food when I was 20.  For years, this little southern girl stayed with what she knew--her mama's southern cooking, her daddy's BBQ, and, of course, Tex Mex.  In order to lure me into a Chinese restaurant, my family and friends dangled the fortune cookie carrot in front of my face, knowing I fall for anything related to fate or serendipity. 

Not only did I love the food (pork-fried rice, anyone?), but I loved cracking open those little fortune cookies at the end of a meal.  I actually still have some of my favorite fortunes from years past. Yesterday's fortune cookie is not a keeper.

After my meal, I ripped into the wrapping, cracked open the cookie, and anxiously looked for my fortune.  Um, yeah, where's my dang fortune? Looking in each cookie half, I spotted a piece of paper in each. Oh! I got two fortunes?! No, idiot, you didn't get two fortunes; you got one...that is ripped in two. Pulling out each half, I pieced them together to read my quasi-fortune.

"Your true love awaits your arrival." 

Seriously? Um, okay. Would have been cool if it hadn't been torn smack dab down the middle. I've had empty fortune cookies--they suck. Never have I had one split in two. Yeah, and I've never had a fortune related to love. This can't be good.