The Washington Post, July 2nd, 1987
I cracked open the fortune cookie and, as usual, the fortune was unnecessarily dramatic. "YOU WILL SOON HAVE A GREAT CONFRONTATION," it said. "In the two blocks between this Chinese restaurant and the office?" I wondered, to myself. But seconds after I had taken a bite of the cookie, the room began to spin. And spin . . . . And spin . . . . "Mr. Levey?" "Yes?" "Mr. Levey, I'm sorry I had to treat your fortune cookie with certain chemicals. But it was imperative that I speak to you, and I was afraid you would hang up on me if I called you at the office." "Who are you? Where are you? I can't see...
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