Trusting a toy

This morning, I got to sit at a new desk. I was at my non-internship volunteer workplace. It was amazing to have my own cubicle. I didn’t have to sit in the studio everybody needed to use and I didn’t have to sit in the table in the middle of the room and read the newspaper twice.

But instead of jumping into the online news when I entered the cubicle, I did what every smart person would do. I picked up the Magic 8 ball. I asked it the ultimate question, the question every woman over 26 who’s moving back in with her parents must ask: Will I ever get married? I shook it up, closed my eyes for a second, willed a positive response, turned it upside down, and looked down.

DEFINITELY NOT.

What? This can’t be. I was shocked. How could this happen? I took a walk, got a drink of water, and went to the toilet to catch my breath. Then I realized. The Magic 8 Ball didn’t understand the question. It was made in China. It doesn’t know English.

I texted a few of my friends to get their responses. I got a few “hahas” and a “Rece, you’re so funny.” Abby said I shouldn’t put much stock into a piece of plastic with blue water in it.

I tried again. Negative. Third time’s a charm, I thought. I got the answer I wanted. Not a yes. Not, “sure.” But it was a positive one for sure. I took a deep breath. I texted my friend Lena to let her know the good news. Rece was not going to turn into an old hag with crazy cats.

I think I’ve learned my lesson. Magic 8 Balls are not toys. And if you want to ask them a question, you must finesse it out of them. And ask the question slowly. Enunciate. Then maybe you won’t have to try three times for the right answer.