(Thanks for fixing the previous chapter)
“Janitor number four,” a muffled voice came from the radio, “There’s a spill on level eight. Take care of it.”
“Last time I remember, I had a name”, Stan wheeled his garbage can with tools attached on level eight. He saw the usual cubicles occupied by women much larger in stature than he.
“Woah.” It was a busy day too. An inattentive worker just bumped him by back the power of her wide hips. “Better be careful or else I’ll…”
“Oh, Stan! Over here.”
A thick accent called to his attention, he didn’t see it, but could tell that the voice came from the break room. Stan walked in and saw Hena sitting at the break table with a partially eaten cake in front of her, “Hmph. Just couldn’t keep me away could you?”
Hena raised her brow, “Eh? I haven’t seen you in quite some time…”
“It was just a joke,” Stan looked down in embarrassment only to see a bubbling caramel liquid on the floor, “This is the mess?”
“Mhm,” Hena nodded with her mouth full of cake, “Some co-worker came in and just grabbed an armful of 6-packs,” she took a long drag of soda, “One fell and uh, you can tell what happened.”
“How careless.” Stan grabbed his trusty mop, wet it, and began wiping over the sticky substance. Stan didn’t have his interest in doing his job, but rather at the large rectangular cardboard box in front of Hena, “Uh, not to judge, but isn’t that an awfully big cake to eat by your lonesome?”
“Oh, it is,” Hena playfully rolled her eyes, “The CEO gave it to me as a reward for doing such a great job and said that she would really appreciate it if I ate her cake,” Hena took a small slice and gulped, “She made it herself and wanted feedback on her baking skills.”
She patted her stomach; the table blocked the view, but only a fool would say she isn’t stuffed to the gills, ”And with my belief in cleaning your plate, uh, let’s just say I’m thankful for her giving me the afternoon off work to finish this.”
With the last bit of soda cleaning up, Stan rung out the mop, “Sounds pretty strange, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I work pretty hard.“
“I mean giving you the afternoon to finish a cake”, Stan’s curiosity kept prying, only two weeks in and she gets a free cake for hardwork? Wouldn’t a promotion suit her better?
“Oh,” Hena wiped her mouth, “It does to an extent. Is it not American custom to get time off for food?”
“Eh. Well, there’s lunch, but-“
“And I should tell you. I have fallen in love with American cuisine!” she squeaked, “After that Tuesday when I first saw you, the girls took me out to a ‘buffet’, aah.” She held her frosted covered fingers over her breast, “I have never been so full in my entire life.”
“Glad to hear your liking our culture. But, I wouldn’t stuff myself too often.“
“Ahaha, too late for that, my friend,” her finger wagged, “There hasn’t been a day since that I haven’t gone out for American cuisine. And the fast food is so convenient and cheap, whoo. Let’s just hope I don’t blow up like a ballon.”
Hena stood up with remaining cake; a simple handful, “I better finish this in my cubicle. I like to stay ahead of my paperwork.”
It was impossible to miss, Stand could see that Hena looked a little fuller in her work outfit. Like the excess of food she had been talking about made her figure look a little healthier. Not too much change though.
“Okay, you go do that” Said Stan watching her walk from the room, “Is that an ass I see?” He mumbled.
Stan shrugged it off, America's quite possibly the fattest nation in the world and it would be ignorant to think an immigrant scarfing down American food wouldn't put on a few. Oh, well. Stan packs up the mop and bucket when...
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