The Dinner Date
“In Korea and China we have baby mice wine. It’s a cure for everything. You got asthma? Drink some baby mice wine. Bones ache? Nothing like baby mice wine.” The horrified WTF look on Imani’s face only egged him on. “We drown newborn mice in rice wine and it takes 12 to 14 months to ferment. Then it’s safe to drink.”
“How are dead mice ever safe to drink?”
He countered with, “Ah, but you Americans drink Tequila and swallow a worm.”
“Uh, sure. But I still think you’re punking me. I don’t think there’s any such thing as baby mice wine.”
“It’s true. Look it up on your phone, look it up on the Google.”
“I’m gonna do just that. You better not be messing with me.”
“Or what?” he challenged.
She pinched a crouton from her salad in order to throw it at him, but changed her mind after he kept laughing at her. No, she needed something else. Maybe a chickpea or a baby tomato bonking him right on the forehead would work.
“I will look it up for you. I will show you what I say it true,” he insisted, putting up a hand to deflect the tomato hurled his way. He took out his own phone, swiping the screen a few times before he showed it to her.
Now it was her turn to laugh. “It’s in Korean.”
“I forgot to switch it to English.” He stuck the phone out again, giving her a chance to read the full article.
“Okay, I was wrong. Dang! I threw away a perfectly good tomato,” she grumbled. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Leaning back in his chair, a smug look crossed Hui’s face. “An apology is nice, but I have something better in mind.”
“I just bet you do.”
~~~~~End of Excerpt~~~~~