![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbofzGFhsYKQ1GCkniDo2lC5ITCy0wY6M5rakklOnrN3ojrdagu9DOg8iLg4hFOA1iXa4bGpmXFwaYRLiBGJi2AqBAreXOjt8I2Frd-n7zK8YBRbKQGng7DbmU_ImfR3q-Uf8w/s400/fortune+cookie.jpg)
Me: “Can I help you, ma’am?”
Customer: “Yes. What are these?”
Me: “That is a fortune cookie, ma’am.”
Customer: “It doesn’t look like a cookie. Where are the chocolate chips?”
Me: “Ma’am, these are a different kind of cookie. You open them up and they tell your fortune on a piece of paper.”
Customer: “What kind of cookies have paper in them!?”
Me: “Fortune cookies, ma’am.”
Customer: “This is an outrage! Cookies are meant to be eaten, and paper isn’t EATABLE!”
Me: “Please, ma’am, the paper is–”
Customer: “Shut up! I’m leaving.”
(The customer begins to storm out but in her anger misses the door and walks right into the wall. When she finally stumbles out, I open up the fortune cookie and read its message: “Do not worry. You will get what is coming to you in life.”)
This made my day
ROTF
Ciao,
Aunty Pol
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