“Go and audit Remo’s Bar and Grille,” boss told Ramesh, “they pay well.”
Ramesh detested driving in the summer heat. Air conditioner of his car was not working. He has to brave hot air with window open in his drive through desert like landscape.
“Who opens a bar in the middle of no where?” wondered Ramesh as he drove his car, “and hire an auditor from half away across the coutry paying an arm and a leg?”
What Ramesh would not have given for a nice cool drink as he faced 40oC wind. Bottle of water he was carrying, had become hot, replenished body water but did not quench thirst.
In the cool interior of Remo’s, which was a paradise compared to Ramesh’s car, an office with a chilled drink in a mug was set up for audit.
“On the house,” said the attendant.
“I don’t drink on duty,” Ramesh said, “that too a free one.”
Everyone knew that audit was a farce. Actual income of the joint never sees any book. Organization was always in red.
“It is not alcohol,” the attendant replied, “drink, you will feel good.”
Word Count : 191
Photo Credit: Reena Saxena