The Cholula Dialogues

Gino ordered eggs, over easy, and ham. Order up, but—no hot sauce. “Cholula?” The waitress delivered a bottle. A generous dollop engendered ecstasy.

As he slowly savored bites, the diner two stools over received a mouthwatering omelet. Looked good, but where’s the hot sauce? Passing waitresses ignored his hesitant glances.

Should Gino give him his bottle? He couldn’t decide. Both continued eating slowly. Finishing first, Gino acted. He quietly edged his Cholula toward the neighbor.

As Gino rose—not before—the neighbor reached over for the Cholula. Neither spoke. But exchanged broad smiles as Gino headed for the door.