True story. I used to work with a couple of programmers named Bill and Kevin. I think they'd gone to school together; at any rate, they were friends before Kevin hired on. We'd go out for barbecue about once a week. Wichita is at the confluence of a number of barbecue styles, but the place we usually went was Texas pit, which means dry-smoked meat with tomato-based sauce, tending toward the hot side. And Scotty's hot was *really* hot. His mild was pretty tangy too. He'd always ask, "Are you sure? It's really hot," before he actually put hot sauce on, no matter if you were in there every week. We always got the hot. Now, I have a pretty high capsaicin tolerance, and Scotty's is about my max. It was, I think, slightly past Bill's and Kevin's... they'd sit there, mopping sweat and puffing and blowing and saying "MAN, this is good. Whooh! Isn't this good?" And of course they'd agree with each other, because it Just Wasn't Done to say, "Actually, it's a little too hot for me today." And I'd sit there, just eating my stuff and having the sense to take a bite of coleslaw or bread if the heat got too much. Their side dishes generally went untouched, because neither wanted to be the first. Now, certainly I enjoyed my lunches. So did they. But I think they enjoyed their lunches more for the rivalry, and for going back to the office and bragging about how hot the sauce was, than they did for actually eating it. Me, I just liked eating barbecue. -- Karen J. Cravens silver@phoenyx.net ---------------------------------------------------------------- GAMERS Home Page: http://www.phoenyx.net/gamers/
