I have never liked cheese.

My Mom told me when I was a baby, I would spit it up when they tried to feed it to me. Later, my father, incredulous that his son could possibly have an aversion to such a staple, who, despite being an MIT physicist, isn’t intellectually capable of understanding that a different reality of the world besides his own could exist, used to try to sneak cheese and butter into sandwiches he made for me, which were instantly spit onto the ground and thrown into the garbage.

It only stopped after I called the authorities to complain about a poisoning attempt.





ewww! Gross! I go out of my way to avoid cheese. I was once starting a relationship with a really beautiful girl and was invited over to her house for lunch for the first time, and was caught picking out the cheese of turkey sandwich she gave me. I should have warned her, my actions were ... not welcomed.





So, now I am in Paris, with my wonderful AirBnb host, Naomi, who is excited about acquainting me with French culture, which, for all its beauty, for a country which has given the world everything from crepes to The Louvre, has a major flaw- it's love affair with 'fromage' (cheese.)

True fact: On "blue cheese" France actively cultivates mold for "taste;" it is considered a delicacy. No wonder this is where the nihilist movement began.





And Naomi, thinking herself kind, tells me, nay, brags to me with wide dilated eyes that she will have a "platter of French cheese prepared for me which I can sample to my hearts content." She gives me a huge and generous smile.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.





When I tell her that cheese isn't exactly my cup of tea, she's in absolute disbelief, she's never heard such a thing, she takes it upon herself to attempt to assimilate me to French culture and society.

When her pleas for sanity fail, she blackmails me to try her cheese by threatening to turn me into authorities as a terrorist.

Below you'll see the results.





the cheese incident in Paris, France