May You Enjoy This Story...Or May You Not
The Month, The Word, and the Mystery Meal
May is a menace. Not only does it toy with us; one day basking in summer warmth, the next throwing tantrums of thunderstorms, but it also carries with it the most slippery word in the English language: may.
One morning in early May, I wandered into my favorite café, The Ambiguous Spoon, where the specials board read:
"Our soup may contain traces of nuts. The chef may be in a good mood today. The price may be negotiable depending on how charming you are."
Uncertain whether I was about to eat or engage in high-stakes diplomacy, I sighed and ordered the Mayhaps Mushrooms sandwich, which may or may not have contained mushrooms.
As I waited, the waiter leaned in like a spy. “You may want to avoid the soup today. I overheard the chef muttering something about ‘spicing things up.’”
I nodded. “Appreciate the warning. Though I have to ask, does may mean I can, or that I should, or that I’ll regret it later?”
The waiter gave one of those shrugs. “In May, does anything mean anything?”
Just then, the chef emerged, holding a steaming bowl of soup with an air of mystery. “You may love this. Or you may wish you ordered something else.”
I stared at the broth, unsure whether it was dinner or a dare. I lifted my spoon and muttered, “Well, I may as well find out.”
The chef watched with amusement as I took my first sip. It was…unexpected. Spicy? Sweet? Was that a hint of nutmeg, or just may-hem?
I set my spoon down slowly, feeling the heat spread. “You know,” I said, “I may never recover from this.”
The chef grinned. “Or you may just want another bowl.”
Fifty shades of may!
I may be a very big fan of this tale of soup and mayhem.