Why Casually Eating Entire Cloves of Garlic During Meetings Earned Me a Fearsome Reputation

The meeting was supposed to last thirty minutes. In corporate time, that usually meant forty-five — but not today. Today, it would end precisely when I decided it should.

The room, virtual yet suffocatingly tense, buzzed with polite monotony as Jim from accounting fumbled through his operational budget slides. I leaned into the camera, slow and deliberate, and peeled the first clove of garlic. The sound — that satisfying snap — cut through the droning like a blade. I bit into it, my eyes fixed on Jim’s square. He stammered, voice faltering, and the room fell silent. The taste burned, but I didn’t flinch. I chewed, slow and methodical.

By the time Susan began her pitch on team synergy, I was on my eighth clove. Her voice quivered as she attempted to ignore the audible crunching. The others sat frozen, their faces taut with an unsettling mix of disgust and fear. The garlic wasn’t just food — it was a weapon, an unspoken threat. The smell invaded the airwaves, saturating the atmosphere with an acidic, primal tension.

“Dave, do you have anything to add?” Brenda from HR finally spoke, her tone attempting authority but cracking under the weight of her nerves.

I peeled another clove, letting it rest between my fingers as I stared directly into the camera. The silence stretched, a taut wire ready to snap. “I’ve got plenty to add,” I said, my voice calm, measured. The clove disappeared into my mouth with a final, deliberate crunch. The CEO’s square popped onto the screen, “We’re here to discuss redundancies,” he began. Redundancies. A word that sliced through the façade of camaraderie and collaboration. My colleagues stiffened, sensing blood in the water.

I stood up, the camera capturing my frame from the waist up, bouncing my chair to the floor. In my hand, a chef’s knife — gleaming, sharp, pristine. “Let’s get to it,” I said. The garlic bulb sat beside me, its cloves scattered like the remnants of a feast.

The meeting ended exactly at minute thirty. For most of them, it would be the last meeting they ever attended he thought to himself. He logged off, wiping the blade clean.

Garlic lingers, but not as long as fear.

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