…when I bring them into work several successive weekends in a row at the one (Thai) restaurant where I work now, so we can slice them up and have them on plates and people can nibble on them while at work:
1) The first weekend that I do this, my one (older) (Thai) coworker who’s a whiz at the phones says she likes the melon, and when I ask what do I get in return, she just holds her thumbs up in a crossed fashion so that they look like hearts like K-pop people do to signal love, now.
Only love, in return for my melon.
2) Like the second weekend that I do this, my one (older) (Thai) coworker who's a whiz at the phones says that it’s not sweet, so I’m like, “It’s sweeter than the melon that you brought in,” while my one (chubby) (Thai) coworker says that that might be the result of pesticide use being absorbed into the fruit’s flesh, like in line with what she studied back at her agricultural college in (Thailand).
3) Like the third weekend in a row, I don’t bring in a melon because everyone b*tched the last time about how they weren’t that sweet, but my one (Guatemalan) coworker who sometimes tries to f*ck with me greets me not with hello or anything, but quiero melon (“I want a melon”).
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