The pattern was tasteful but the bright hot pink paint gave Joe, holder of the cruse, pause. He had shelled out most of his current pocket’s capital for this potato concoction on the advice of fellow coworkers. Every Friday a woman earned a few dollars for her homemade offerings, which were as some said, “beyond compare”.
The mug was full of creamy ingredients and did nothing to help quell a stomach’s lurch from last night’s hangover. He felt obligated as she dealt out mugs for all in the office lunchroom. A sip was all it took and Joe suddenly left the room.