Thy name is hospitality

I can’t believe this ya. She rang up to say we will meet at a mall around lunch time. I was damn hungry. I reached there and was glad to see her at the food court. I told her I will pick up some fried rice for her.
“I will go and pick it up myself,” she replied and vanished.
“Wow, at least some sponsor,” my crooked mind murmured.
She returned with a chicken burger, French fries and Pepsi.
“I am a veggie,” I said.
“Sure you don’t mind my eating,” she questioned.
“No hassle,” I replied.
Grrr. My tummy was hissing. And then I noticed she had started munching.
The burger was gone, the fries were being gulped in seconds and all through there was not a word of “Take it.”
Shucks. I literally watched the glutton celebrating her lunch.
I had to rush alone to a nearby restaurant after she finished her “business discussion” and moved off.
Thy name is hospitality, my friend.
Just remembered. I and my wife were climbing the stairs to our fifth floor Mumbai house. At the third floor, Mr S stopped us. How can you go without having tea? He literally dragged us into his house, when I noticed his wife signaling to him “no milk at home.” He was a jobless man and had a handicapped daughter.
Strange world.