Footwarmer Kitty
Sanji, asleep on my foot, trapping me in place for a while…
…Time for this week’s story…
Fortune Box
Ron and Luis approached a strange box at a traveling fair. It was tall like a vending machine but the top half had glass walls and inside them was the bust of a fortune teller. In front of him was a crystal ball. A caricature from days passed, he wore a turban and had a long black mustache. His arms were crossed and he wore a disappointed look on his face.
“Fortune Box. Get the answer you need, your fortune is up to you,” Ron read aloud.
“This thing looks weird, like it's too real, and not real enough,” Luis said.
“Yeah, weird. These things are a scam anyway. They can't really tell your fortune.”
“It doesn't say it tells you fortune, it says it gives you the answers you need. It's only a dollar. Let's try it.” Luis whipped out a dollar and Ron begrudgingly followed suit, rolling his eyes.
“We're at a fair, right? It's just a dollar. Let's have some fun and see what it says.” Luis slipped his dollar into the slot and the crystal ball lit up. Music cracked through old, worn out speakers and the figure rotated in place, eyes lighting up and blinking.
“Ask your question, then press the button” the machine demanded.
“How do I find financial success?” Luis asked, then pressed the single button they could see. A worn label read, ‘Ask’.
The light show started again, with more flair this time. After a moment, a slip printed out from the middle of the box, next to the button and the machine went dark.
“What does it say?” Ron asked.
“Learn Python. Doors will open for you quickly,” Luis read aloud.
“Don't you already know Python?” Ron asked, unfamiliar with programming.
“I know a little, but I don't know it very well. I've thought about learning it, actually. Your turn.” Luis moved aside.
With a sigh, Ron slipped his dollar into the machine. “I guess I'll ask the same question. How do I find financial success?” Ron pressed the glowing blue button.
The box lit up and printed out his slip. He read it over and chuckled, then read it aloud.
“Make a channel talking about your favorite game. Your in-depth knowledge has a large audience.”
“Holy crap, is this thing for real? These are so specific,” Luis said.
“There's no way this thing is real. It obviously just spits out pre-programmed stuff,” Ron said.
“Haven't I told you the same exact thing? Bro, it's a sign. Start a channel!” Luis encouraged him.
“But, I'm too old to start a channel, and I don't like talking in front of a camera.”
“Just voiceover gameplay or images of the cards you're talking about. I'll do your editing for you so you just have to talk,” Luis said. “Also, we’re barely in our early thirties, calm down.”
“But, what would I talk about?”
“Literally everything you already don't shut up about, just record yourself doing it. If you're about to go on a rant, just pull out your phone and record your rant.”
“I don’t know. It’s a lot of work to start a whole channel and stuff,” Ron complained.
“Well, the thing it told you to do is way easier and more fun than the thing it said I have to do. It doesn't hurt to learn Python, so I'm going to do it. Why not try yours too?”
Ron made more excuses about why he couldn't do it, and Luis offered all the support he could to take those concerns off his plate. Ron agreed to think about it. Luis, on the other hand, did not think about what the machine told him. Luis looked up some Python tutorials the next day and started doing lessons.
Within a few months, Luis was talking about his journey learning Python at a party. Someone there needed something simple that he could do. That was Luis’s first gig using Python. Luis continued to learn, and more opportunities presented themselves to him. A year later, he was working on an independent project with some friends he had made. Together they created a program that made them a lot of money. A year after that, they sold it for a huge payday.
Ron, on the other hand, kept finding excuses why he couldn't start his channel. He always found at least sixty hours per week to play games. However, finding the time to record himself talking about the strategy of his favorite game eluded him. Of course, he insisted he needed to play games as an escape.
Not long after visiting the fair Ron found a girlfriend. A year later, they were engaged, and within a year they married. Luis, however, wasn't at the wedding. Ron had distanced himself from Luis. Luis wasn't playing games as much as he used to, and his constant effort to improve himself was a blinding reminder that Ron was not doing the same. When Luis began to find real success, Ron stopped talking to him.
Seven years later, Ron’s financial situation has deteriorated further. In fact, his attitude had eaten away at his entire life. His wife had left him and he had almost no friends to speak of, but he still found at least sixty hours of game time each week to help him escape the daily misery of his life.