The Flavors of Houston
Eric blitzed through the Pho Saigon entrance and slowed to a swagger. He lifted his red shades at the small Vietnamese lady who quickly greeted him. "Vietnamese iced coffee and a pork sandwich," he said. His face fell when she didn't return his smile with a smile. "Okay, $8.53." He raised his eyebrows and frowned a bit, searching his pockets for his wallet. He flicked her his Chase card. He only tipped 15% instead of his usual 20%. "Sit over there. 10 minutes," she said, pointing. He found a different corner of the restaurant than where she pointed as a passive aggressive way to spite her. He found that the little things aggravated people more than the big things, and he especially liked it when he could explain his ways of annoying people as blunders rather than choices. The other customers occasionally raised their eyes from slurping down bowls of pho to glance at him. Eric felt cornered and pulled out his phone. He busied himself on social media ...