Last night I needed to grab a quick bite and dropped into my local Panda Express for some serviceable Chinese food. All went well until I cracked open my fortune cookie and looked into the heart of darkness. It said, “You should do well at making money and holding onto it.”
All right, first of all, whatever happened to real fortunes? You know, the kind that told you with assurance what was going to happen, like “You will meet a handsome stranger.” or “You will go on a great adventure.” When did they start assessing your character (“You have a warm and giving nature.”) or going into the heads of the people around you (“Your acquaintances find you cheerful and supportive.”)?
More important, when did they just start screwing with your mind? In the days before cultural awareness, I might have imagined a conspiracy of Chinese men in silk tunics and hats with braids down their backs sitting in a dark backroom laughing as they smoked opium and devised these evil messages. Now it’s different. Now I imagine a multi-racial group of men and women sitting in a Haight-Ashbury Victorian smoking pot and laughing as they write these missives from hell.
When I read my fortune, I thought it was saying that I was going to easily make money and keep it. That was funny, since I’ve never been much good at either of those things. It made me chuckle a little ruefully.
But later my friend Sam added his two cents’ worth. He said the cookie was obviously hedging its bets by saying “should” rather than “will.” Yes, that was another way of interpreting it. Yet another was that it was saying that since I “should” be able to make and keep money, but I haven’t, what the hell is wrong
with me?
Well, OK, so I’m not rich. What of it? And who asked the damned cookie its opinion anyway? There I was, having a nice meal, reading The New York Times on my Kindle. Was I hurting anyone? Did I ask to be harassed? No! I just wanted a little quiet time. Then this cookie comes along and spoils the whole thing. All it had to do was taste good and carry a few innocuous words. Could it say “You will marry a wealthy man.” or “You will live a long and happy life.”? Would that have been asking too much? Just to be spared its big, fat, judgmental “should?” There are whole psychology books written about the negative effects of the word “should” and telling us never to use it. And I’ll bet the cookie has read all of them.
Sam said “Screw the cookie. Prove it wrong.”
“What, and stay poor?” I asked.
“No! Get rich,” he said.
“But the cookie says I ‘should’ be able to get rich, which means it thinks I can be rich, so to prove it wrong I would have to not do it. That means if I’m not going to give in to the cookie what I need to do is prove it right, right?”
“No. Well yes. But — Why are you listening to a frickin’ cookie in the first place?”
I’m going to give up Chinese food.
Not only should you not listen to the advice of anonymous advice givers who know nothing about you, but you also (I know this about you) know that money does not equate to happiness. Studies show, after all, that happiness decreases when one has too much.
Perhaps fortune cookie messages at disreputable Chinese restaurants should start listing the ingredients of the meal you just consumed: MSG, a little bit of cat meat, and perhaps a frog tongue. Then you’d know for sure what your immediate future looks like: kneeling at the altar of the porcelain gods.
Excellent point, Jim. Of course now I won’t be able to look at Chinese food without thinking about cat parts . . .