I seldom touch a fortune cookie. The messages are banal and the vessels are more fit for packing material than consumption.
But, today's informal meeting drove me to seek diversion. The convener had run out of things to say at 12:04, but was still talking at 12:54. The delivery of checks and cookies didn't affect her momentum, much less our shuffling of feet and consulting of timepieces. Maybe cracking open a cookie would convey the message.
The slip inside read, "You will become hungry in the near future. Order take-out."
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