Because I Can… the random thoughts of Marc Scott

It wasn’t quite a year ago when I last walked through the doors of the Mandarin.  There are two reasons for that.  First and foremost, it’s stinking expensive, and us common folk can’t afford those kind of fine dining experiences but once in a blue moon.  Second, I have little to no self control when presented with such a plentiful buffet, and tend to eat myself sick.

The occasion a year ago was a sad one.  Family and a few friends gathered after the funeral service for my Grandma.  I say sad not because of the funeral, but sad for the workers of the Mandarin because, sadly, they had no idea what was about to hit them!  I wouldn’t say we’re rowdy.  There is no drinking or carrying on.  We may be a little messy, perhaps a little too country for the big city buffet.  We also make sure to get our monies worth.  That’s a gentle way of saying each of us individually eats enough for all of us collectively.  I assure you, no profit is made when my family, as a whole, enters such an establishment.

My two little cousins are bit older now.  So that was good.  In the past it was customary to request a mop and bucket to be left at our table on standby.  I also kid you not, on one particular night out, we went through every waitress in the restaurant because each one of them couldn’t handle the continuous clean up and would pass us off to the next.  You may hear a rumor that it had more to do with each one of them wanting to check me out, but I assure you that is a flat out lie!  People were simply in denial about how messy our table really was that night.

As we wrapped up our dinner at the Mandarin we got our traditional fortune cookies.  I have yet to fully grasp the concept of the fortune cookie.  To this point, no cookie has ever brought me fortune.  I don’t give up hope though.  Maybe one day Confucius will hit the nail or the head, or my lucky numbers will really be lucky.  Or, maybe one day I’ll just call the telephone number in the small print and ask them who comes up with these things.  I digress.  On this particular August day, having recently been served with divorce papers, my fortune said the following, “You are doomed to be happy in wedlock.”

Can I ask you something?  What does that even mean?  Doomed to be happy?  Is that like when you have a friend who is large, and you nickname him Tiny?  I mean, “doomed” and “happy” are not words that I would typically place together with each other in that kind of sentence.  Nevertheless, I was amused by the irony of the timing.  Truthfully, I was feeling doomed alright.  Doomed to be alone, sad, broken and single… FOREVER!  I was feeling anything but doomed to be happy in wedlock.

Today I went on one of my spontaneous road trips.  Along the way I picked up my dad and took him to the Mandarin.  It was his Father’s Day gift.  A little late I know, but we haven’t been able to sync our schedules until today.  It was a good time.  Less mess.  Table for two.  As always, I ate myself to the point of ralphing.  It was good though.  No complaints.  Steak.  Chicken.  Shrimp.  Crab Legs.  And yes mom… lots of veggies!  Green beans, mushrooms, broccoli, carrots, peas.  A little bit of everything.

As expected, we got our fortune cookies at the end of the meal.  And, as always, I waited for the brilliant pearl of wisdom, truth, or revelation that was just waiting to be released.  I cracked the cookie, anticipation swelled up inside me as I removed the printed treasure inside.  As I began to read it, I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry.  ”You are doomed to be happy in wedlock.”

It’s amazing how much can change in a year.  My outlook being one of those things.  A year ago, as I read those words, I focused on “doomed.”  Today though, I focused on “happy in wedlock.”  Is it a coincidence that I got the exact same fortune almost 1 year later?  More than likely.  This time around though, it felt less like the end or something, and more like a second chance and a new beginning.