The other night at work two of my fellow employees were talking about string cheese.
#1: I have a friend who eats string cheese. Ugh.
#2: I eat string cheese.
#1: Okay, fine. But you probably don't BITE IT.
#2: LORD NO! I pull it apart.
I was standing there at the cash register, listening in dismayed silence because a) I eat string cheese and b) I bite it like it's a Tootsie Roll. And also I was having flashbacks to that moment when I realized I should have been tipping the pizza delivery guys all along, which I never had because I didn't know you were supposed to. That happened in the days before I was the sophisticated person I am now.
Except I bite string cheese BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW ANY BETTER.
So I remained silent, although I did send an email the next day, confessing I am a biter. And guess what. They love me anyway.
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4 comments:
There is no one way to enjoy string cheese. I am serious, there is not one way to enjoy it. Having said that, BITE, PULL, TWIST IT. We get to choose how we won't enjoy string cheese for ourselves.
I bite string cheese. And I eat the chocolate exterior off a Three Musketeers before eating the nougat. But I do not wear galoshes. I'll just put it out there (as the mother of people who do things entirely their own way, and who don't give a fig what anyone thinks about it because autism), why do we feel we must apologize for our idiosyncrasies? Our quirks make us us. You can eat your cheese however you like, I say. Just enjoy it, because cheese is delicious. Also, I thought of you as I crunched salt and vinegar chips in a quiet house this afternoon.
Personally, I find pulling string cheese apart, strand by strand, to be the primary pleasure it offers. Still, I can refrain from judging the biters. The thing I'm struggling with is this: Why would anyone voluntarily eat a tootsie roll?
I'm a biter of string cheese and Tootsie Rolls. Deliciously chewy. Sometimes, I bite my husband. But that's another subject.
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