The following day convinced him. And though he knew that his sales did not depend upon his eating in a Chinese restaurant every day, he still tried to find some way of continuing to do so without getting sick. Or more specifically, to get the fortune cookie he needed—no, no, he didnt really need it, but… well, what the hell, everybody has some sort of good luck charm. Certainly no different than a rabbits foot. He shrugged inwardly, what the hell.
The next day he went to a small Chinese food take-out store and took the fortune cookie out of the bag and dropped the rest in the first litter can, then went to lunch. He glowed with pride at his ingenuity and the ease with which he had solved the problem. Each day he went to the take-out stand and ordered a few items and threw them away after taking out the fortune cookie.
One day he noticed a couple of girls from his office at the stand and continued walking, then came back ten minutes later, looking around carefully to make sure no one else from his office was there. Now when he left the office for lunch he glanced over his shoulder to be certain no one who knew him was in the vicinity, carefully looking around again before dropping the bag of food in a litter can as nonchalantly as possible, studying the sky and whistling as he hurried away.
Soon the pressure of this routine started to create anxieties so he would eat lunch in the area first, then go to a take-out stand some distance from the office to get his fortune cookie.
After much testing, and some trepidation, he found he could safely eat in a Chinese restaurant every fourth day without fear of an attack. And so he sampled the Chinese food from one end of town to the other. He was in Chinatown one day when he made a happy and astounding discovery: a store that sold fortune cookies by the bag. Now he truly had nothing to worry about.
He kept a bag of cookies in his desk drawer and rationed them out to himself, one at a time. But then it started becoming a little difficult to understand some of the fortunes. Well, it wasnt that they were hard to understand exactly, it was just that they were ambiguous or simply did not apply to the immediate situation. So Harry was forced to open another… and another, until he found one that was pertinent to the day before going out on his appointments. Soon he had to buy bags by the dozen, wanting to be certain he did not run out, and when he left the office he was covered with cookie crumbs, the old anxiety giving him a slight twinge from time to time.
One morning Harry was studying reports and getting together information to present to a prospective customer. This was an international corporation and if Harry could close this particular deal it would be the largest in his firms history and would open undreamed of vistas for the firm and for Harry. Among other things it would mean an appointment to the Corporate Staff.
He had been working on it for six months, putting in endless hours and tremendous energy and creative imagination, and the final appointment, the yes or no appointment, was for tomorrow afternoon. He had everything together and was starting to review it again when he received a phone call advising him that his appointment for the following day would have to be cancelled, Mr. Ralston had to leave the country unexpectedly, and could Harry make the appointment for this afternoon at two, Mr. Ralston having no idea when he might be otherwise available.
Harry quickly agreed and automatically reached into his drawer for a fortune cookie. He read the fortune, frowned and threw it away. Who needs that: He who hesitates is lost, but it is better to be lost than dead. What kind of nonsense is that? He opened another… and another and another, becoming increasingly anxious and annoyed. He had been bothered by the ambiguity of some of the previous fortunes, but now they were being downright negative. He reached for the last one and it too was the same. If he took the advice of the cookies he opened today he would go home and lock himself in a closet. Right now he wished he could do just that. He hated the idea of trying to close this deal feeling so nervous and negative. He frowned and looked at the pile of cookies and fortunes in his waste paper basket. What the hell was going on? Why was everything suddenly against him? Krist, he wished he could cancel the appointment! But if he did it would be all over. He would never get another chance. Not like this. He would not get the Corporate appointment. He had to see him today. But why was everything going wrong? He had lit his candles this morning. Why should this be happening to him? He looked through all his drawers for the third or fourth time hoping to find a stray fortune cookie, one that he had somehow overlooked, but to no avail. There just wasnt any left. He was completely out. And there was no way he could get anymore before going uptown. Unless he had an early lunch in the Chinese restaurant next door. He brightened, Yeah. Thats what I’ll do. Thats where it all started anyway. I’ll have a quick lunch and get uptown in plenty of time. He brushed the cookie crumbs from his suit and left his office.
Something told him that he was not being too wise having lunch here today, having had lunch in a Chinese restaurant yesterday, but he was forced to dismiss the thought. He would be careful. He wouldnt eat much. He wouldnt take a chance on being victimized by the Chinese restaurant syndrome. Not today, and a faint voice way in the back of his head said: Famous last words.
He ate the soup and a little of the chop suey and quickly grabbed the fortune cookie when the waiter brought it and crushed it and read the fortune, then stared at it: There are times when the wisest thing to do is nothing. He could not believe it. This was insane. He waved to the waiter and asked him if he could bring him another fortune cookie. He nodded and when he brought it Harry cracked it open and almost moaned aloud as he read the fortune. Another one. I must be dreaming. Somebody must be playing some sort of trick.
He called the waiter again and asked for a dozen fortune cookies. The waiter looked at him for many seconds, Harry said excitedly that he would pay for them, breaking into a forced smile and explaining that it was for a joke. Eventually the waiter shrugged and brought another dozen fortune cookies. Harry stared at them for a moment, the waiter glancing at him from time to time, talking to the other waiters, then shrugging and shaking his head. Harry took a deep breath and relaxed as best he could and got ready to open the first one, girding his loins as if he were about to dive off a hundred foot tower into a tank of water through flaming oil. He opened the first one, read it quickly, tossed it aside and went to the next, repeating the same routine, his knot of anxiety growing with each one, becoming more and more sick, until he had opened them all (all the waiters were watching by this time, scratching their heads) and he sat staring at the pile of broken cookies and crumpled fortunes. Harry was on the verge of tears. He could not believe this was happening to him. All the way to the very brink of something great and then the entire world suddenly turns on him. He hadnt done anything to anyone. He lit his candles every morning. Why should this happen to him? It wasn't fair. Goddam it, it wasnt fair! Im not going to put up with it! I’ll be damned if I will! NO!!!! He spoke the last word aloud as he brought his fist down, hard and loud on a pile of broken cookies, the plates and little bottles jumping and clanging, people suddenly silent, sitting still, forks suspended in air, looking first at each other, then turning around to find the source of the disturbance; the waiters too stopping in mid-motion, looking at Harry and blinking as Harry ground his hand into the cookies and shouted, Im not going to put up with it! Thats it! Harry continued to mutter to himself as he paid his bill, unaware that everyone was staring at him, commenting that he was as mad as a hatter.