Hi there! Bubba here and ready to apply for your J-O-B at your C-H-E-E-S-E S-H-O-P. You know what Voltaire said... You don't? Well neither do I! But what I do know is I like cheese shop a little more than the next guy or gal.
I'm tall, smart, sexy and serious, and no doubt ready to monger whatever cheese you throw my way. Let me lay the scene for you. Bald and bespectacled, I await the first customer at 6 am. A young couple walks in, the cheeses are all hot and steamy, just out of the oven. The smell of fresh cheese wafting through the air. Like Gay Par-ee in the 1920's, I ask them, "Quelle fromage que tu voudrais?" They say in unison, as young lovers do, "a strong, supple cheese, my good lady." I cut a small sample of the comte for them. They gasp in ecstacy as they let the complex flavors wash over their respective palates. I say, "Well, where do we go from here, my fawns?" And they reply with, "we want to take it, but we have not a farthing to our name!" and I say being the kind, generous, princely cheesemonger I am, "It's yours for the price of a smile, on the house!" Because what we love most here at the Bedford Cheese Palace (possible name change?) is to aid the young and helpless in starting off on the right foot. But when wealthy established older folk come in to purchase a chaise or two, I will charge them double. What do you say?
When can I start?
Yours in everything,
Bubba Barinsky
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