open it further.
“Totally understandable. Your last experience in a car and a confined space weren’t exactly great. Even if you don’t entirely remember them. The elevator. The ambulance.”
“You’re right. I’m sure that’s what it is,” I said, even though, deep down inside, I knew that wasn’t the case at all. I could feel that these fears were deeply ingrained in me, and had been for a very long time, even if I didn’t know why.
The inside of the restaurant was very Mexican-looking and, as we walked in, I felt inundated with facts about Mexico, like:
Mexico has the world’s smallest volcano, which stands a cute forty-three feet tall.
Mexico, not Egypt, is actually home to the world’s biggest ancient pyramids.
Color TV was invented in Mexico, and so was Caesar salad.
The meteor that caused the extinction of dinosaurs crashed in Mexico.
I tried to turn the facts off as we took our seats at a small table at the back that looked out over a courtyard filled with colorful Mexican tiles and pots and the most incredible green plants.
“So, what appeals to you?” Noah pointed at the menu, which was written on a chalkboard.
“Umm, what do you recommend?”
“Well, guacamole and chips is a classic. So is the spicy bean taco.”
The waiter came up to the table, looking very festive in his Mexican-inspired clothing. He placed a big jug of water down on the table and introduced himself. I was too busy studying the blackboard to reply.
“What’s that?” I pointed to the poster on the wall next to the chalkboard.
“Oh, that’s a competition we run,” the waiter replied.
“To get a free meal?” I asked, reading it.
“Yeah, if you can eat a habanero pepper, the hottest pepper in Mexico, then you get your meal free! Not many people have done it, though.”
“Habanero peppers score 100,000 to 350,000 on the Scoville heat scale,” I said.
Both the waiter and Noah stared at me.
“Scoville is the heat scale you use to measure foods with. For example, a jalapeño only scores 2,500 to 8,000 max on the scale,” I qualified.
“I didn’t know that,” Noah said, and glanced up to the now open-mouthed waiter.
“Yeah, neither did I,” he said. “I probably should.”
“Cool! I’ll do it!” I said, without thinking too hard.
“You will?” The waiter looked taken aback and so did Noah.
“Why not? Free meal. I don’t want you to pay for everything.”
Noah shook his head. “Really, I don’t mind. Especially if you have to eat the world’s hottest peppers just to get a free meal. It doesn’t seem right.”
“Well, technically, the world’s hottest pepper is the Carolina Reaper, so at least I’m not eating that!”
“At least,” Noah said sarcastically, adding the tiniest head shake to the mix.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” I assured him, and then banged my hand on the table with enthusiasm. “I’ll do it!”
“You sure?” the waiter asked again, eyeing me.
“No, she’s not sure,” Noah piped up.
“No, I am,” I said firmly.
“Cool!” The waiter eyes lit up and he shouted to the rest of the restaurant. “Habanero challenge!”
I heard a few excited whoops come from the direction of the bar and kitchen, and a few patrons also looked up.
Noah leaned across the table. “You don’t have to do this. I once got called out to a party where a bunch of teens had dared each other to eat chilis and one guy got so sick he had to be rushed to hospital.”
“Lucky for me, then, that I have a trained medical professional here.”
I hadn’t realized that eating the pepper was such a big deal, though, because soon, the waiter returned with a giant silver cloche, as well as two chefs, the manager and a few other onlookers. The manager put a piece of paper down on the table in front of me and passed me a pen.
“What’s this?”
“We need you to sign an indemnity form before eating it,” he said.
“Wait. No.” Noah covered the paper with his hands. “You don’t want to eat something that you have to sign an indemnity form for!” He sounded genuinely concerned, and for some reason, this felt good. It felt good to have him care about my wellbeing. Even though I didn’t feel that concerned myself.
“It’ll be fine.” I felt strangely confident. “I think I like hot food!”
“You do?”
“I do, actually!” I said happily, putting the pen to the paper, but then I hesitated. Shit! I didn’t know my name. But I wasn’t going to tell them that, they probably wouldn’t let me eat a blazing pepper with no name and no