Ever since I started working at Functional Solutions, I have had my eye on this one particular fortune cookie. I must have noticed it back in mid-Febraury in the utensil drawer, where it sat quietly amid a mess of plastic cutlery, untouched. Day after day, week after week, it taunted me… Innocently reaching for a fork with which to eat my salad, or a spoon for my yogurt, I could not help but note the seductive sheen of its cellophane… the familiar, supple, yet crunchy brown sugary shell. It beckoned me mercilessly with every pull of the drawer, testing my will time after time. Surely I am stronger than my desire to eat a cookie, I thought. I convinced myself that it would be just plain wrong to eat the cookie. After all, it was not mine to eat. I am many things but a thief I am not, so there the lonely fortune cookie stayed, tucked in that kitchenette drawer for well over two months.
On the other hand, if someone really wanted that cookie, wouldn’t they have eaten it already? And if it did mysteriously disappear, well, its not like a fortune cookie is hard to replace. Would anyone even notice its absence?
On Wednesday my will finally crumbled like a Cheez Puff trapped beneath a steel toe boot. You could say my will quota had already been spent for the month… Between regular early morning workouts, forcing myself to immerse my foot and ankle into an ice bath daily, and the fact that a tub of Cool Whip has now been in my fridge for over a week… well I’m only human. Something had to give.
My greedy little paws ripped into the clear plastic in the corner of the kitchenette, with my back turned to the door, facing the coffee pot, hoping no one would approach. I needed my special moment to be private. Moreoever I did not want to get caught red handed.
I took the first bite and tasted anticipation, joy, and rebellion on my lips. I crunched enthusiastically as I unfurled the prophecy that lay inside my sweet treasure…
You are direct, and others often appreciate this quality in you.
Oh No It Di-Int!!!!!
This fortune cookie might as well have been hand-delivered to me from God (assuming there is one). I could not believe my luck. So giddy I was with this eerie coincidence, I marched right over to our office manager and admitted my transgression, “Cinthy, I admit I stole that fortune cookie, you know the one in the utensil drawer…” She looked at me blankly. I continued, “And check it out!” I held the fortune out proudly like a first-grader at show and tell. She grinned. We giggled.
If stealing fortune cookies that were so obviously meant for you and only you is wrong, I don’t want to be right!