I don’t even drink coffee.
But I like the smell of it, appreciate places to work out of the house, and the people-watching rarely disappoints.
At the Starbucks near my house, there’s a guy there who does not look like a “laptop worker.” As a member of this illustrious, soon-to-be-decimated-by-AI group of workers, I know what to look for. And he’s not it. He looks like he’d be more comfortable at a mountain man rendezvous than working indoors on his shiny Macbook. He does get outside for frequent smoke-breaks, but still.
Not that you asked, but on the list of reasons why I would never smoke cigarettes is that I would want to be a seasonal smoker while nicotine would want me to be more of the all-weather sort of smoker. Going outside in all the temperatures and in all the environments sounds most undesirable to me.
My anonymous mountain man buddy was at the local Starbucks on a recent day when, several hours into my writing session, nature called. Trusting my valuables to the collective care of other patrons, I ducked into the loo.
Upon my return to the table, I spotted the rolled-up strip of paper which had been next to my table the entire time. Sometimes I astonish myself by how observant I am. Not only did I now see it, but I knew that fast {insert finger snap} that it was a fortune. What I quickly came to appreciate that it was a good one. Not a spineless proverb, but an honest-to-goodness fortune, courtesy of Panda Express.
“You are naturally ambitious and will make a name for yourself.”

Let’s ignore the potentially negative connotations of the first part, and focus on the second part, which swooped like a song into my heart. I was having blah-Tuesday-afternoon feelings about my writing—comes with the creative territory, I hear—and this strip of paper injected HOPE I tell you. That hope explains why I let serendipity trump my guilt over taking someone else’s well-loved and well-used fortune for my own.
I’m actually not a huge believer in luck. It feels like a cheap, superstitious substitute for actual faith in a good God. But that same good God sure gave me a heavy dose of imagination, a very “What if?” sense of humor and possibility, and an appreciation for the fun/funny. Which is why I’d rather be told in a fortune that I’d break my arm next Monday, than be pandered to with a generic statement of a fortune. You know the lame proverb ones like, “Smile and your cares will melt away” or “A friend is a treasure” or “Your finances will be a key to your financial success.” I sourced that last one from a stranger off Google.
To those less-than-interesting strips of paper I say: “I don’t always feel like it, some certainly are, and I think I can see where you’re going with this one...”
Who writes these things anyway? Wondering if ChatGPT is up to the task, I asked it to write five fortunes. I wasn’t dazzled, but with some editing, we have some fortunes that pass my muster.
You will receive good news from someone
you haven’t heard from in a whilewith a mustache.
A new
opportunity in your careerpartnership will present itself within the next few weeks.Be ready.
An unexpected change in routine will lead to
something positivean exotic pet.Embrace the detour.
Someone close to you is quietly rooting for your success.Keep going.(This one wasn’t salvageable.)
You will soon have the chance to share your wisdom
in a way that makes a differenceon stage.
Speaking of fortunes meeting with my approval, my most memorable fortune remains this one I opened in a winter month: “For better luck, try back in the winter.” You should’ve seen the long list of endeavors I shelved until the next winter.
Earlier, I mentioned serendipity. During a college summer break, I had just finished watching the John Cusack movie by the same name when my best friend Heidi called to see if I wanted to meet her and her fiancé Russell at the BYU Creamery. Tough choice, tough choice—keep organizing my dismal finances on a summer night or go meet friends.
So I met my pals at the Creamery, but not before I had the Serendipity-inspired thought, “What if I met a love interest tonight?” And I totally did. I want to say it happened near the soda section, where we both loitered over our choices until he worked up the courage to ask for my phone number. I gave it, he called me a couple days later, we went out once or twice, and then… I honestly can’t remember what happened. But my failed memory doesn’t diminish the serendipity of it all.
It’s just a wonder what being on the lookout for luck will do, even for those of us who don’t live our lives by it. Which brings me to my final story. A few years AFTER the riveting Creamery story, and many years BEFORE stealing someone’s fortune at Starbuck’s, I worked with a woman named Loal who very successfully put me on the lookout for luck.
This energetic older woman dressed to the nines nearly every day. Her glasses were something to be envied by whichever generation of twenty-somethings we’re on right now. As the property manager for the commercial real estate division of our company, she sailed all over Las Vegas in her Nissan Armada, putting out figurative fires, doing inspections, and responding with genial aplomb to the endless tenant situations which arose.
We’ll never know why, but one day, she got into her head that THIS was the very day on which I would meet THE love of my life. She didn’t know where or how, but she was through-the-roof confident that it would happen THAT day. You now know that I’m not a huge luck-looker, but she was so dead certain about it all. And if you could have seen her eyes, wider than usual behind those glasses in radiant joy over my new love, you would’ve believed anything she told you, too.
This is why you’ve never seen a late-twenties woman pay more attention to every adult male everywhere I went. Parking lots, grocery store aisles, the gym, even driving down the street all had me scanning on high alert like the FDA inspector at an all-you-can-eat sushi buffet. I was almost bummed to go to bed that night without finding him because it’d been so dang fun looking for my dreams-come-true with Loal-level certainty.

It’s almost enough to make one think about living and working with even half this level of hope and expectation and optimism and certainty. Actually, I’ve sold myself, and I’m going to. I dare you to do the same. I do NOT, however, dare you to leave your good fortunes lying about willy-nilly since I will definitely steal them, and use them to my advantage as I “make a name for myself.”
Isn’t life cool, and aren’t people interesting? See you in the next one…
(AKA “Naturally Ambitious Emily”)