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I Went To A Hot Sauce Expo And It’s The Closest I’ve Ever Been To God

As is evident by the small shrine in my refrigerator door, I am a hot sauce enthusiast. I have been gifted those tiny travel size Tabasco bottles at least 15 times. My best friend once bought me a framed piece of Frank’s Red Hot art. My mom enjoys telling friends of the time I was 5 years old in a restaurant and called the waiter over for “some Cholula, please.”


The chalky clatter of pills and plastic in her purse that might otherwise have camouflaged itself as white noise was, for him, a screaming rattle.