“Let’s grab a bite to eat,” I said to Nae. We’d been working hard and deserved a break.
“Where do you want to go?”
I gave her the look like “duh, where you think?” We have a favorite place. It’s a little Vietnamese hole in the wall that has soup to die for — broth, chicken, rare steak, bean sprouts, rice noodles, mint, jalapeño. I’ve learned don’t break the jalapeño in tiny pieces with your fingers and then rub your eye.
Just before we departed, an email caught my eye. “Important notice.” It was from the office manager. “Please be alert and aware if you use the stairs or go outside. There is an unhappy client who is headed for the building. He lives nearby.”
“Should we stay in?” I asked her. My stomach growled. “I think we should still go,” I said.
Nae continued to read the email. “The person has been described as Caucasian male, 60 years old, salt and pepper hair, wears blazer style of jackets, plaid shorts and loafers.” She paused only a moment, picturing our enemy. “Let’s go for it. I think we can take him.”
It’s great to have brave and tough friends.
P.S. The soup was worth the risk!
- I didn’t know Elvis was Thai
- A melting pot
- Game night for seniors
- Caustic cousin
- Don’t mess with my Heinz