[ WP ] A Chinese restaurant whose fortune cookies always come true , even if its only vaguely related to what 's on the paper .

Have you ever heard of a place called, `` *Randy's Chinese Palace*''? I had n't. In fact, I had never heard of a Chinese place named after a Randy before. Randy's BBQ? Sure. Randy & Sons Plumbing? Of course. Randy's Auto Repair Shop? I would take my car there at the first sign of trouble, because Randy knows how to fix cars. 
 
 But does a man named Randy know how to make a good egg drop soup? I had my doubts, but I decided to give Randy a chance one Sunday afternoon. Admittedly, the $ 5 off coupon I got in the mail had a lot to do with it, but there was also a little part of me that was curious to see what it was all about. 
 
 There were no cars in the parking lot when I pulled up, which was typical. The exterior of the `` palace'' looked more like an old garage where some psycho stored dead bodies. The blinds were stained yellow, there were two entrances, but you could only enter through the one on the side of the building. The front entrance was was covered with duct tape. It was the first sign that someone named Randy really did own the place. 
 
 As I walked in the restaurant, I was greeted by a teenager. He was dressed in a black suit. His name tag read, `` Randy Jr.'' 
 
 `` Welcome to Randy's Chinese Palace. For here or to go?'' 
 
 `` For here.'' I replied. Randy Jr. had my attention. I mean, a freakin' suit? You never see that anymore! Yeah, the booth upholstery was torn, the carpet looked like a spoiled mushroom and there was this weird painting on the wall of two dudes eating a live duck. Nothing screamed, `` FOR HERE! EAT IT HERE!'' However, there was just something inside me that wanted to stay. I guess it's similar to when the stupid blonde opens the bedroom door in a horror movie. She knew it was a mistake, but she just needed to see what was behind the door! 
 
 Anyway, Randy Jr. took me to a booth in the corner of the restaurant. He took my drink order and then handed me the menu. It was short. There were only ten dishes on the menu, and I could n't pronounce eight of them, so I just ordered the Chicken Chow Mein. 
 
 `` Ah, good choice!'' Randy Jr. said with a smile on his face. 
 
 `` Really? Do a lot of people order it?'' 
 
 `` I would n't know, sir. You're the first customer.'' 
 
 `` What? Did n't you guys open six months ago?'' 
 
 `` Correct. It's been slow.'' 
 
 As he walked back in the kitchen to place my order, I knew I was in trouble. I mean, what the fuck? How could they still be in business with no customers for six months? I was close to running out the door, but I could n't do that to Randy Jr. He looked so excited to have his first customer. I did n't want to ruin his day. I had to stay. 
 
 Randy Jr. came out with my plate of food about 15 minutes later. A huge plate of Chicken Chow Mein, a bowl of egg drop soup and one egg roll. 
 
 `` Does everything look okay, sir?'' 
 
 I nodded. He continued to stand right by the table. It was at that point I realized he was going to stand there and watch me take the first bite. `` Here goes nothing...'' I thought to myself. I picked up the fork, got a little bit of that Chow goodness on it and then delivered Randy's creation into my mouth. 
 
 It was disgusting. The worst Chinese food I had ever tasted. It tasted like some dude named Randy had made it. But still, I did n't want to hurt little Randy's feelings. I gave him a big smile, `` That's good stuff.'' I said. 
 
 `` My father will be happy to hear that.'' He said before going back in the kitchen. 
 
 I ended up eating most of the food on my plate. The egg roll actually was n't that bad, but how do you mess up an egg roll? You could stuff an egg roll with pretty much anything, and it would still be delicious. Randy Jr. came out a little bit later. He put the check on the table and handed me a fortune cookie. 
 
 I placed my card down on the table, and then opened up the fortune cookie. 
 
 `` You will be back.'' It read. I chuckled. I liked Randy Jr., but not enough to eat this shit again. After Randy Jr. swiped my card and gave me a copy of the receipt, I thanked him and left the building. I needed to go grocery shopping, but I decided to go straight home because I did n't want to drop bombs in a public toilet. 
 
 Two days later, I went back to Randy's Chinese Palace. I had the same meal, got the same fortune cookie and went back there the next day. I've been going to Randy's for three years now. Never have seen another customer. Heck, I have never even seen big Randy. It's always just Randy Jr. in his black suit. 
 
 Every time I eat there he will ask me, `` How was your meal?'' And I always tell him it was fantastic. I just ca n't tell him the truth, plus, he would never believe me now. Why would someone continue eating at a place for three years if they hated the food? 
 
 How could someone be so addicted to something so bad for them?
