I Am Your Crispy NoodlePosted: October 24, 2014 | |
A few days ago, I went to have lunch at a Chinese restaurant.
My friends are so unsurprised by that news that they’re wondering why I bothered to write it. For those friends, I will just say that not everyone has had the pleasure of chowing down on Szechuan with me. Also, I’ve got to establish a setting and premise for this tale, so get off my back, OK?
As usual, my bill came with a fortune cookie. The slip in this cookie read –
Being A Crispy Noodle Might Be Good
I place a lot of stock in what fortune cookies have to say. This cookie concerns me because I don’t know how to interpret or react to its assessment of me.
Is a crispy noodle a good thing? Maybe.
Perhaps the cookie is trying to say that I am different from those around me. My presence is pleasing and accents the lives of people who take me in to their circles. Crispy noodles like me are a delightful change of pace from the meatlessness surrounding us. Yup, I add texture and, dare I say, a visual element that people don’t know they’re missing until I’m with them.
That’s it. I add texture and a pleasant umami flavor to a plate full of more of the same.
On the other hand, being the crispy noodle may not be all that I think it is.
Think about when you order onion rings. Do you know how sometimes you look and there’s a lone French fry in there? You like fries, I like fries, but no one eats that fry. We comment on it, but that French fry sits alone on the plate as the bus boy carries it back to the kitchen.
Perhaps the cookie means to say that I don’t fit in as seamlessly as I tell myself that I do. Am I that thing that makes you say “oh, what is that?” when you take a bite? Maybe it means I am that thing in the salad of life that makes you struggle with an awful choice – do you keep chewing and choke it down while you look through your salad to make sure there isn’t another or do you excuse yourself and spit it out?
What will I do if the cookie means that I am the thing on people’s plates that makes them say “I don’t know what the hell that is, but I don’t want any more of it.”?
Damn It, Cookie. Say What You Mean
I feel tormented by this fortune cookie and I’m not sure what I did to deserve this. Maybe I’ll go back and hope for a message that clears things up. I could crack the cookie and find a slip that says “read things in the light most favorable to you.”
But there’s a risk in going back. The new fortune could say “you are such a crispy noodle”; that would only double my suffering.
Remember when fortune cookies gave a fortune, not a personality assessment?
Maybe I’ll consider Thai food for lunch today.