No Dish for Me
In order to secure the five-million-dollar business deal with a major client, I end up getting hospitalized from overdrinking.
On the day I get discharged, I see a text message on my department's group chat.
My manager, Robert Spradlin, has tagged everyone in the group chat.
"Everyone must attend the celebratory afterparty tonight. We're celebrating the fact that our department has secured the biggest deal of the year!"
As I stare at the screen, I feel a hint of warmth bubbling in my heart.
Even though Robert is often stingy and loves putting on airs, I'm pretty sure that this is his way of acknowledging my efforts.
I specifically go home and change into new clothes. Then, I arrive at the private room right on time.
The moment I open the door, I feel a blast of hot air mixed with a strong smell of spice hitting my face. It's so overwhelming that I can't help but cough violently.
"Sit, sit! I've specifically ordered these dishes for you!" Kristie Madison, the newly-recruited admin, gushes.
But when I take a good look at the dishes, I feel my smile freeze on my face.
Spice, spice, and more spice.
Kristie has ordered 20 dishes, and yet I can't even stomach every single one.