Appointment with Destiny

I strode into the waiting room, pausing in the doorway to examine the other people sitting. The room appeared to look like the average waiting room with nondescript floral paintings on the wall, uncomfortable chairs, and stacks of outdated magazines. But I knew that the room was not what it appeared to be because I had an appointment with destiny! But first, let me tell you how I managed to get an appointment with destiny.

It all started one week earlier. I had just gotten home from work and opened the mailbox. The mail looked to be pretty much what I expected – bills and credit card applications. But the last envelope that I pulled out of the mailbox was shiny and glimmered in the flickering hallway light. I frowned, trying to think if any of my friends were getting married or if someone I knew was throwing a formal party. But my friends were all married or very much single, and I didn’t know anyone who would throw a formal party. I got all my invitations through e-mail or word of mouth.

I walked up the two flights up to my tiny one bedroom apartment, resisting the urge to rip open the interesting envelope. Finally, I made it up the stairs and unlocked my door. I tossed the rest of the boring mail on the coffee table and glanced at my answering machine. It was flashing that I had seven messages. Trying to save the fun mail for last, I punched the play button on the answering machine and heard three hang-ups, three telemarketers informing me that I may have just won ten thousand dollars, and a message from my mother asking me to call back that weekend. I erased all the messages and quickly sifted through the mail, opening the bills and giving the dollar amounts due a cursory glance and ripping up the credit card applications.

Finally I had finished all of the boring mail and I held the shiny envelope in my hand. My name and address were written in small script in the middle of the envelope, but there was no return address. I turned the envelope over and slid my finger underneath the flap. I pulled out the heavy paper inside and flipped it open. The letter said:

Dear Ms. Starr Muriat,

You have been selected for an APPOINTMENT WITH DESTINY.

Yes, an appointment with destiny. I know what you are thinking – why have I been selected to meet with Destiny? Well, Ms. Muriat, Destiny will answer that question for you during your appointment.

And what will you learn by meeting with Destiny? Destiny will tell you what your future holds. All those nagging questions you have been having about what you should be doing will be answered after meeting with Destiny.

You don’t want to miss your appointment with Destiny. This appointment is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and it will not be repeated for you. Destiny has a very tight schedule and cannot reschedule any of the appointments.

Your appointment is scheduled for next Friday, December 17, 2004, at 2 pm at 24517 West Arlington Avenue. The location for your appointment will appear to be an average waiting room, but let me reassure you, Destiny will keep the appointment.

If for some reason you are unable to make your appointment with Destiny or you prefer not to know your future, please send an e-mail to: appointments@destiny.com

Sincerely,

Harmony Blicker
Appointment Secretary to Destiny
appointments@destiny.com

I put the letter down. An appointment with Destiny? Was Destiny a person? And he – she? – had an email address and an appointment secretary? This was a pretty elaborate prank for any of my friends to be pulling off. Even my younger sister Jo-Jo wouldn’t do something like this to me. Or would she?

I set down my bags and examined the letter more carefully. It had a regular stamp on it, one of the Dr. Seuss. But I couldn’t make out the postmark because it was smeared and illegible. “Hmm,” I said out loud. “An appointment with Destiny. It seems like something my friend Bean might just be crazy enough to think of.”

Just then Tabby, my kitty, began to wind her way around my legs. “Oh Tabby, I haven’t forgotten about you,” I said as I scooped her up for a quick cuddle. She meowed politely and nuzzled the underside of my chin. “Let’s get you some cat food before I start playing detective. I’m going to have to make some phone calls tonight to see who is playing a prank on me.”

I quickly changed out of my work clothes and into my comfortable jeans and a T-shirt. I fed the cat, who was gratefully circled around my legs as I emptied the canned food into her dish. “Yeah, yeah, Tabby,” I said as I placed the dish on the floor. “Here’s your dinner.” The cat began delicately nibbling at her food as I opened the refrigerator to figure out what to make for dinner. There wasn’t much in my refrigerator and it looked like I was going to be having scrabbled eggs again. I needed to get the grocery store this weekend.