It is the same place where they always meet.
Misery is cooked and served with ladles. They like it, because they can always blame the other person for not getting it or choosing right. All said and done, it’s the only place they know of. They’ve never ventured beyond to check if there is another diner.
I’m sure they fantasize about doing so, but are held back by fear. How would happiness taste? What if they are not able to handle it? Will it be okay to blame someone else for it?
The pots and pans smile as they see the familiar faces enter again. It is their best recipe for success – a small pinch of an addictive potion thrown in, which can be felt and described, but never replicated. The taste is unique to each.
And of course, they have a tie-up with dessert counters. The diner earns a referral fee from them. People visit the counters to neutralise or overpower the taste of entrees served here. Sweetness of being happy is another elixir, but its power is short-lived.