Dirk slammed his tray on the table in the company cafeteria and sat down with three of his colleagues. Polly and Grant shared a reluctant glance. A pale faced Andy simply stared at the empty table in front of him.
“Fellow peons, how was your Christmas holiday? Mine was a disaster. My fantasy league team collapsed down the stretch. Talk about epic fail. Then there was the dinner party Ellen and I went to over New Years. Nobody told us it was a theme party. Steampunk. Can you believe it? That’s so retro it’s back out. Like ska, am I right? We were the only normal people in the whole place. Now we’re back at the meat grinder like nothing ever happened. Memories, ya know? More like nightmares. You people have no idea,” rambled Dirk.
Polly cleared her throat. Dirk looked around the table, then settled his gaze on Andy.
“What’s with you? You on some sort of New Year’s diet? I gotta tell ya, those things never work. They’re just a total money grab. These diet places just prey on slobs with no self-esteem, am I right? So which one got their hooks into you?”
Andy looked at Dirk with shallow eyes. “I spent the holidays in the hospital getting a feeding tube inserted into my stomach. I have a rare disease that took away my ability to swallow food.”
Dirk laughed and looked around the table. “What? You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” snapped Polly. “He’ll never eat solid food again.”
Dirk shook his head. “You are so lucky. You’ll never have to go to the kind dinner parties I went to.” He took a bite of his sandwich. “So lucky.”
Andy simply stared in disbelief.