WARNING: Adult language and themes

Sagramore stared at the menu with some trepidation. He didn’t really know what went into Thai food in even the upper echelon establishments, and shuddered to think what was used in mall food courts. The lady behind the cash register, who looked Hispanic, stared at our hero impatiently. Sagramore, in turn, was confused as there was no one else in line, and he had no idea what the rush was about. Eventually, he decided on menu combo 2, which he dared not pronounce as it seemed to possess too many vowels.

The kind lady asked Sagramore what kind of meat he desired.

“What, like beef or chicken?”

She sighed with the patience of someone tending kindergarteners and responded, “beef, chicken, pork, or tofu.”

“Wow. SAT time. One of those is not like the others.”

She stared at him dumbly.

“I just mean, tofu isn’t meat.”

Nothing.

“I’ll have the chicken.”

She clicked something on the cash register.

“How spicy? We have levels 1  to 5.”

Sagramore was fresh off the boat, back in the USA. He had spent four years in Japan, where the popular pallet had no tolerance for spices. He assumed American Thai establishments where as parsimonious with their spice supply as Japanese ones. He ordered a level four.

Five minutes later his mouth was on fire and his shiny, new Hugo Boss dress shirt was covered in sweat stains large enough to be seen from orbit. The portions were large, as well. But our proud hero is a trooper, so he finished his meal and drank two sprites. After a quick visit to the bathroom to freshen up, he darted out of the mall and headed to the theater.

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