“You have entered the winter of your life.”
After reading the fortune, I wadded it up inside the cellophane the cookie came wrapped in, tossing it on my abandoned plate. Reaching for another cookie, my dinner companion tried to retrieve the first slip of paper.
“Wait, what did this one say?” He pulled back his empty hand when I rapped his knuckles with my chopstick.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, handing the offending plate to a passing waitress.
I didn’t immediately open the crinkly bag, but instead imagined it was my friend, Cate’s head, squeezing it until it popped open.
It was her idea to list my profile on that horrid website and at her insistence that I went on this single date. She owes me big for my Night of the Moron from Hell, especially since I allowed her to screen my potential match.
She believed she was administering to my depression. A condition, she diagnosed, due to my lack of bedroom action. No matter how I said it, or how often, I couldn’t convince her that despite begin alone, I wasn’t lonely.
The only way to could get her to promise to stop pestering me about my love life, was to go on this date. If she wasn’t a life-long friend, I wouldn’t have even agreed to that.
It was evident during our first five minutes together, that my match’s singular goal for the evening was to get me into bed. His juvenile banter consisted of pathetic sex jokes, and inappropriate questions about my position preferences.
I also had to endure his stream of consciousness diatribe about the deficiencies of his past lovers. Clearly, he insisted, they didn’t know what was good for them.
All I wanted was to get the check so I could leave him at the restaurant.
“Don’t forget to add, ‘in bed,’ to the end of the fortune,” he said, giggling like an adolescent boy.
Cracking apart the cookie, and I pulled the rolled paper from the broken pieces. I could only shake my head at the truth of the fortune.
“The past cannot be cured… in bed.”
Thin spiral notebook 
Awww, bad dates make one appreciate being alone, don’t they? I like what you did with these quotes–this was enjoyable.
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I agree with everyone else, the fortune cookie idea was really clever, great way to incorporate both lines, and still worked them into the storyline.
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I too loved that the lines were fortunes, and that I am not the only one who doesn’t eat the cookie they come from.
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Brilliant! I love how you began and ended not only with the lines given, but as fortune cookies! And can I say, Worst. Date. Ever. Well done!
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That is great. I was convinced it was going to work up to “ignore last cookie” and I thought the date was going to turnaround drastically. But no! Ha!
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I liked this… in bed. Gotta love laptops.
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This really made me laugh. You can meet some really weird people out there. I love the last line..
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Fortunately for me, I have really only dated (and married) one person. I could NOT imagine myself ever online dating.
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Lol!!
What a great way to use those lines.. And that cookie.. I remember that cookie!
Did I ever tell you I did one of my senior thesis on Internet dating.. It was ‘new’ ‘exciting’ in 1997/98 you know? So I did a lot of Internet dating and I met a lot of nice guys.. But when I met the guys like this.. We’ll.. I’m glad we can laugh about it now. 😉
I loved this
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I bet that was fascinating research. HA! I have a few friends who actually met their spouses online dating. I’m not sure how often a great match like that happens, but I can imagine you have to go through a few crazies before finding a keeper.
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My evil sib found her hapless husband on the internet. They were, sadly, well matched.
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I have to admit that most of the men I did meet and date were very nice. I was in 3 long term relationships (A year or more) with men I met online before I married John. None of them were crazy and all 3 are my friends, meaning we keep in touch even now with facebook etc.
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Oh, very clever use of the prompts!!
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Love that last line Tara!
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