There's a fire in your mouth

I had the most excruciating lunch today at school: each dreaded spicy salmon roll that I put in my mouth steadily amplified the fiery burning sensation radiating from every taste bud on my tongue. By the sixth roll tears were threatening to spill. I kept thinking, I hope no one looks over and sees me in this sorry state. The last roll was the most torturous, of course, and right at the moment when tears began to stream down my face a girl came over and asked if I would mind if she sat across from me. I avoided eye contact and managed to bleat, "No, I don't mind," but she must have instantly regretted it. She must have said to herself, Fuck, I don't really want to eat my lunch across from some stranger crying into her food....

So, she sat sideways in her seat, perhaps feeling that it would be rude to leave and sit somewhere else but at the same time not wanting to face my wretched visage directly. I decided to spare her further distress--and myself further embarrassment--and hastily departed.