Squeeze your stick you Devil

You know, in my position, I sometimes don't get to enjoy lunch, because I have to run all over the place for someone else's lunch. Well, today my boss had me run all over the Lower East Side to find a particular kind of sushi one of our clients was preferential to. I wasn't told what the name of the restaurant was, but only that it was near Astor Place.

A few calls later to my connection at Zagat and I found out what the probably 'hot' restaurant was. I got the Sushi, and flew back uptown to serve this culinary feast. (Actually, it looked disgusting - I don't eat seafood - ick! Just think about it - fish eat each other, and then we eat them...barf!)

And because I knew I would be harranged about "where's the soy sauce", "where's the ginger sauce"? Blah, blah, blah. I made sure I had plenty of sauce on hand by way of these nifty chopsticks with sauce compartment all in one. Just squeeze and pick up!

So, I served the sushi, replete with lint-free linen napkins and crystal goblets of Perrier water, and sat back at my desk to wait for the "Where's....?" And then it came, "Where's the soy sauce! You know our best client, George, always has to have soy sauce with his sushi!" I grinned to myself while reclining at my desk, gently stood up with a purposeful look on my face, walked to the dragon's layer door, and with a polite grin said to our gentleman client, "Just squeeze the your little chopstick."

He turned immediately red with embarrassment and fury, as did the dragon. With an intentional confused, naive, simple, child-like, dim-witted look on my face, I said, "Your chopstick. You know the ones your company is trying to get us to advertise in our magazine?" To which he was thoroughly humiliated for having obviously thought I was speaking of his minuscule manhood.

That'll teach him to get me to run all over Manhattan for some beloved fish fest.

I guess I do love my job.