Dinner at Wen Ho's WC:297

Dinner at Wen Ho’s
WC: 297

My date and I were having dinner at Wen Ho’s.

I opened my fortune cookie: You will get caught.

“We’re going to get caught? Doing what?” I asked.

I was a bit uneasy. I believed in fortune cookie sayings, not that I would admit it to Joey.

“What did you have in mind?” Joey reached across the table, squeezed my hand, and winked.

“This isn’t funny,” I said and pulled away.

“It’s a stupid fortune cookie, Julie. We aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Why did you ask me, ‘What did you have in mind?’”

I was blowing this way out of proportion. I didn’t know Joey that well and wanted to get to know him better. I could tell he was getting annoyed with me; I couldn’t seem to let it go.

“I was making a joke,” he said. “You always this paranoid?”

What was he planning after Wen Ho’s? Was it really a joke? I don’t really know the guy.

The waitress came for Joey’s credit card.

“You didn’t open yours,” I said after she left.

Joey’s fortune cookie sat near his plate, untouched.

“Honestly? I wasn’t sure about your reaction.”

The waitress came over. Joey signed the receipt and put his card back.

“Thanks for dining at Wen Ho’s,” the waitress said. “Have a good evening.”

“Yes, you, too,” Joey said, smiling.

What did he mean by ‘Yes, you, too?’ Would they meet up later? Why did he smile?

“Open it, Joey. Please.”

He cracked open the cookie and read his fortune to me: Your date is a disaster and will end poorly.

“I’ve become a believer,” he said. “Here’s money for an Uber,” and hurried out of the restaurant.

What did it really say, you ask? Wise person need either good manners or fast reflexes.