It aint half hot in here.
A little saga that demonstrates just how far I will go not to make a fuss.
My bosses took us all out to lunch a couple of days ago to a nice little Italian restaurant. I and, Hannah, the other girl in the office ordered a pasta dish while the others all had soup and salad. This pasta was supposed to be dressed with olive oil and tomatos, and 'lightly spiced'
... lightly spiced my arse!
After the first mouthful I realised that this was going to be difficult. I couldn't possibly say anything - I wasn't paying for this meal, and chances are I was probably just being wimpish, so I attempted to carry on. By about the 5th mouthful I was beginning to wonder just how much longer I could keep it up. My mouth was burning, my lips were beginning to hurt too and I had less than half a glass of water left. I stole surreptitious looks across at Hannah, who seemed to be eating the same thing quite happily.
My boss was asking me how I thought everything was going, and what I had enjoyed the most so far. Everyone was looking at me, and I could barely think past the burning pain.
"Think of this as a test of willpower," I told myself. "I know it hurts, but you've got to just deal with it. Look - Hannah's doing fine."
I kept that up for a while before deciding that I was being the worst kind of stupid. Why kill myself over a pasta dish? I don't think my bosses took me out to torture me. To hell with it.
So I put down my fork and looked across at Hannah.
"It's too hot, isn't it," she said, grinning desperately.
In the end, my bosses had it sent back and i got a very nice, properly spiced one in its place. I think the moral of this one's pretty clear...
My bosses took us all out to lunch a couple of days ago to a nice little Italian restaurant. I and, Hannah, the other girl in the office ordered a pasta dish while the others all had soup and salad. This pasta was supposed to be dressed with olive oil and tomatos, and 'lightly spiced'
... lightly spiced my arse!
After the first mouthful I realised that this was going to be difficult. I couldn't possibly say anything - I wasn't paying for this meal, and chances are I was probably just being wimpish, so I attempted to carry on. By about the 5th mouthful I was beginning to wonder just how much longer I could keep it up. My mouth was burning, my lips were beginning to hurt too and I had less than half a glass of water left. I stole surreptitious looks across at Hannah, who seemed to be eating the same thing quite happily.
My boss was asking me how I thought everything was going, and what I had enjoyed the most so far. Everyone was looking at me, and I could barely think past the burning pain.
"Think of this as a test of willpower," I told myself. "I know it hurts, but you've got to just deal with it. Look - Hannah's doing fine."
I kept that up for a while before deciding that I was being the worst kind of stupid. Why kill myself over a pasta dish? I don't think my bosses took me out to torture me. To hell with it.
So I put down my fork and looked across at Hannah.
"It's too hot, isn't it," she said, grinning desperately.
In the end, my bosses had it sent back and i got a very nice, properly spiced one in its place. I think the moral of this one's pretty clear...