Dave had worked at Centro logistics for over fifteen years. During that time he’d been married, divorced, briefly questioning, and despondent. But never had he spilled his guts the way Gary did at lunch time.

“I’ll tell you a little secret, Dave. I eat so much hot sauce, just to give myself a reason to have twenty minutes to myself in the morning. Nobody wants to be around a middle aged man crying on the toilet.” He paused to shake some more habanero sauce on his hot dog. Gary tilted his em head in concern. “Those tears are worth the peace, my friend.”

”Sometimes I worry about you, my friend.”
Gary grabbed onto the glass bottle as Dave’s hand neared it.
“Nothing to worry about. Just my own slice of heaven. Albeit a little hot.”
“You say things that make me worried about the state of society.”
Gary laughed at that and winked at Dave. “It’s not the apocalypse yet. That’ll be next week when I get the ghost peppers.”