Update* One shift later and I’ve found redemption in the cheese.
My coworker was in the middle of assisting this adorable elderly woman and her tightly curled perm. With such sincerity she asks him, “Sir, can you tell me about the Muenster cheese, what’s it like?”
My ears perk up. Did somebody just inquire about the characteristics of the muenster?
As my coworker is in the midst of dutifully explaining the chemical makeup of this semi soft cheese I physically could not resist.
In dramatic fashion, out of nowhere I pop up, my head resting on the Hobart scale like an overeager jack in the box gleefully exclaiming,
“Ohhhh the muenster!!! it’s a pretttttty scary cheese!”
Legitimately startling her, the cheese inquisitive grandma shrieks, falling to her knees..which then leads me to apologize for just how terrifying the muenster truly is.
Much to my relief she is ok but is now dying of laughter. Cackling almost.
Catching her breath, she abruptly stops laughing, “You know on second thought I think I’m going to have to go with the gouda cheese”
*ARE YOU KIDDING ME!??? The slices have aligned. I can not contain my enthusiasm; my smile is off the charts.
“Well now THAT is a very GOOOOOUDA choice!”
Instantaneous laughter. Can. Not. Stop. Laughing. Her head cocked back, tears rolling down her face. The little old lady in red is almost on her deathbed.
“OH my gooudaness You are a riot!”
Thank you, thank you. If only she knew.