i see in your palms a long life of douchery

Bad, bad lines!

I used to think that talking, or appearing to talk, on the phone was a surefire safeguard against foolhardy strangers force-reading your palms. Then yesterday happened.

I was sitting on a bench because I don't do things like "walk and check my bank account balance at the same time without walking into oncoming traffic" very well. A guy who looked like Mark Zuckerberg approached me and said to hang up right now because he needed help. Looking back, my first and biggest mistake was compliance.

Mark Zuckerberg said he was desperate to find a gift for a girl and needed advice. "Gift card," I said. "To where?" asked Mark. "Sephora." Or anywhere, I thought, as long it means you are no longer violating my personal space.

My terse response did not sit well with Mark Zuckerberg.You see, he told me, it's really important. "I'll be honest... it's for my sister," he said, as though this disclosure should come as a total game changer. I said I was sorry but I couldn't help him anymore.

Version where I go back in time: Rachel says goodbye; leaves bench.

Then Mark Zuckerberg said: 

"You look like... [hesitates]... I don't want to say someone who doesn't get out much, just like someone who doesn't get out as often as you'd like."

[All brain wave activity stops.]

Mark Zuckerberg, seconds ago standing too close to me, was now sitting too close to me. "Your body language is really negative right now. Look at your legs." I envisioned his idea of appropriate body language. A kickline? Jazz hands? Sitting on his lap? He grabbed my left wrist so that my palm faced upward. "Oooooh... Not good. See that line? That's bad news." 

The reality that I, Rachel Leah Pangrac, was getting my palm read on a public bench by Mark Zuckerberg's insult-spewing doppelganger began to settle over me. 

Version where I go back in time: I have walked 0.67 miles away from this bench by now.

Mark Zuckerberg then guessed (incorrectly) that judging by the Rubio's cup I was holding, I had already eaten and would I care to accompany him to Haagen Dazs right over there? To which I responded by asking him if he has Asperger's.

"What's Asperger's?"

Then Mark Zuckerberg asked if I had a boyfriend. "I'm married," I said, certain he must have picked up on this during the fortune telling component of our exchange. This did not faze him; on the contrary. Mark Zuckerberg is always up for a challenge. "Just get some ice cream with me."

[Exit Rachel.] "Come on, just for a few minutes?"

[Exit Rachel even more.] "Not even a handshake?"

[Rachel 100 percent exited.]

Whoever nabs this Casanova is one lucky woman.