Aw...no one wants to be my wingman. You all suck.

I kid of course. The three of you who read this rawk in a most delightful way.

On Tuesday, Korina and I decided the lunches we brought to work were nasty and we needed to get out of the office, so we went to Pei Wei. We sat at one of those teeny two seater tables; the kind that feel like cramped stadium seating that you can't help touching elbows with the person sitting next to you. A man with a laptop sat at a table next to us.

After we boxed over our leftovers — of which there were a lot. (Would it kill these restaurants to offer a smaller portion for less money?) — I cracked open my fortune cookie. Korina and I have a fondness for fortune cookie fortunes. We keep our favorites on a bulletin board.

I read my message and started to snicker and giggle. I handed it to her and she did the same. The man seated next to us, smiles curiously and asked what it said.

I handed the fortune to him. He read it. He looked puzzled. He read it again. And then looked puzzled at us, as if he were looking at two escaped mental patients who's giggling masks their desire to cut you open and use your entrails as Christmas decorations.

Korina looked at him and said, "You have to say 'in bed' after it to make it funny."

He continued to look puzzled. "Is that what you are supposed to do?"

Now it was my turn to look at him like he was from outer space with a line of snot connecting his nostril to the nostril of his second head.

Seriously, there are people who don't know the "in bed" thing?