Last night I ordered delivery from Big Lantern. The General Tso's meatless chicken. It was good. Not their best, but good.
After my meal, I put my plate in the kitchen sink and opened up my fortune cookie. “Compliment three people every day.” Certainly not a “fortune,” but undoubtedly a step up from the bland proverbs inside most modern-day cookies. My roommate is in the kitchen. The straight one. He's been sick for a while, so I give my first compliment. “You look really good today!” He looks puzzled. I show him the fortune. He reads the fortune. He figures out that I wasn't complimenting him, but just fulfilling the command given to me by a 55 millimeter-long piece of paper. He frowns.
I find four people in the living room. One is a 20-something fashionable woman living in the Mission District whose interests are design and typography. Some might call her a hipster. I tell her that her top looks really amazing. She expresses gratitude. I turn to the person sitting next to her. He's holding a bong. I tell him I liked his latest facebook update about Timecop actually being a decent movie. He replies, “word.”
I then look to the two remaining people in the room. I tell them my quota has been filled. Their faces appear puzzled. The same look a dog gets when you put dry Ramen in their dish or tell them in a really loud, sweet voice that you are going to abort their puppies. (Please don't ask about that). I leave the room feeling good. Fulfilled even.
Today I have a fever and feel like complete shit.