I was hungry earlier tonight.
I'm not hungry anymore.
You see, I took action.
I picked up my phone.
I speed-dialed "Canton of A Street".
I understood the man's broken English.
I gave him my address because he did not recognize my number on the caller-id.
He questioned my origins - how dare he?
I chose to forgive this minor transgression.
I ordered a pint of house fried rice, special.
I also ordered two egg-rolls.
I waited behind my door, looking at the doorknob.
Listening for a car.
Listening for footsteps.
I waited 18 and a half minutes.
I zoned out only to be awakened by a light rap at my door.
I unlocked and opened my door, reached in pocket and and while I paid, my cat tried to sneak out.
I used my sneakers to block his escape.
Pancho is a wily cat.
After ingesting my delicious meal, I remembered the two treats awaiting me. They contained wisdom, knowledge and possibly, the winning lottery numbers. I carefully opened the crisp, translucent plastic baggie and released the sweet crackly cookie from its confinement.
I split open my yellowish dessert. A small sliver of paper fell on my counter.
The cookie disapointed me with its staleness. The "fortune" it contained the word "Nangua", Chinese for pumpkin. My least favorite gourd.
The wisdom it contained sounded like Tarzan spoke it. It said: "When more become too much, it's same a being not enough".
I doubt, after all that, that my lucky numbers will be anything of the kind.