You Chive Me Crazy

YOU CHIVE ME CRAZY Copyright 2023 © Rich Amooi http://www.richamooi.com People who complain too much may be at risk of turning into a giant, grumpy pickle. Do you really want to smell like vinegar? Then settle down. This book is a work of fiction, remember? Seriously. References to real people, baked potatoes, simple chronic halitosis, companies, dead people, restaurants, the Great Wall of China, events, products, firm glutes, services, hiccups, businesses, Betty Crocker, corporations, TicTacs, tuna casserole, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Characters, names, story, locations, incidents, and dialogue come from the author’s silly imagination and are not to be construed as real. Warning: This book contains more nuts than the last book. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, recorded, eaten, or distributed in printed or electronic form without permission from the author. To Deb MacLeod. Super neighbor. Angel in disguise. Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 More fun! Acknowledgments About the Author Chapter One LUCAS My best friend, Rolando, was trying to convince me that everything in my life was destined to happen, but I refused to believe that the tasteless mongolian beef sitting in front of me was meant to be. Undeterred, he pressed on with his far-fetched, fanatical feelings on fate . . . “Remember that time you missed your flight to Chicago, and ended up dating that woman at the ticket counter?” Rolando rambled on as we ate lunch at the grand opening of a new bistro next-door to Devour America magazine, our employer, for the last eight years. “What was her name again?” “Christina,” I answered. “No, wait . . . Christie.” “Right! Christie! A lovely woman,” he said. “Meeting her was fate.” “Does that mean it was fate when she broke up with me three months later at Starbucks?” I asked. “Of course!” he said with enthusiasm. “Did you not get a free drink out of the deal from the sympathetic barista, who witnessed your free fall?” “And you think that free latte was meant to be . . .” “A giant cup of frothy fate, my friend.” Rolando grinned, then slurped a big spoonful of his soup. This conversation wasn’t a surprise. Back in high school, they voted Rolando “Most Likely to Maintain a Positive Attitude During Armageddon.” “Okay—but I spilled the latte on my new fleece jacket,” I said. “Don’t tell me that was supposed to happen.” “No, that was you just being a slob.” He laughed, set down his spoon, and pushed his empty bowl toward the center of the table. “But remember when you fell off the bleachers our senior year? You ended up dating that cute cheerleader who ran over to see if you were okay.” “Chelsea.” Rolando nodded and sighed appreciatively. “Chelsea. Whatever happened to her?” “She’s married,” I said. “Lives in Idaho with seven kids. She trains horses.” “You see! That’s what I’m talking about. Nothing serious was supposed to happen between you two because you love California, plus you’re allergic to horses.” I smirked. “And kids.” Rolando ignored my comment because he knew I was kidding. I loved kids. Well, not seven of them. He snapped his fingers. “What about that time we went on that road trip to Vegas, got a flat tire, then got summer jobs with the towing company? See? Everything happens for a reason.” “Then why did the hotdog cart run out of ketchup yesterday, right before I was about to order?” “So that you'd try the mustard for once and realize it's the Lamborghini of condiments.” “More like a 1977 Ford Pinto Hatchback,” I said. “Seriously—everything that has happened to you was meant to be, including all the drama at your culinary school.” I held up my hand and gave him a pointed glare. “Don’t go there.” There were some events of the past that were best left buried in the dark catacombs of my brain, never to be discussed in the light of day again. Especially those that had changed the course of my life. “It’s not healthy to keep those things bottled up inside of you,” Rolando said. “Unexpressed emotions never die. Eventually, they will rear their ugly head and wreak havoc with your life.” “You sound like a quote on someone’s Pinterest board.” I pushed my plate away, not bothering to finish my food. “Can we talk about something else? Like how this bistro will be out of business within a year?” “Don’t you dare review this place because I like it.” Rolando sighed. “Anyway, my point is, you need to go with the flow because the Universe has got your back. You’re exactly where you need to be at this point in your life.” “You mean right here in this restaurant with you?” I joked, then gestured to his bowl. “Were you destined to be eating that wonton soup with me since the day you were born?” “Okay, maybe not, but we never would have been here in the first place if our substitute teacher in middle school hadn’t put our desks together, which led to us becoming friends.” Rolando grinned. “Now, let’s go back to your culinary institute.” “Let’s not.” “Getting kicked out was the best thing that could’ve happened to you. If it weren’t for that, we wouldn’t be working together, and you wouldn’t be the top food critic in the country. You’re like a rock star, dude. Buy some leather pants and enjoy the ride while it lasts.” Before I could respond, a woman approached, smiling. “I’m so sorry to bug you during your lunch. I’m Amelia, and I’m a huge fan. Could I get a selfie with you? I promise it’ll be quick.” I smiled. “No problem.” Rolando