There's something about dairy
I’m sorry, I truly am. I’ll always remember the time we had together fondly. But you had to know this day was coming. Our relationship made sense when I was just a struggling young apprentice. But now that I’m a successful blacksmith, I have to be seen with a better class of cheese. My image, my reputation, my whole career depends on it.
You don’t know what these townspeople are like. They just won’t trust a man to shoe their horses if they think he eats that rubbery processed stuff. No, from now on only Point Reyes Dips and the occasional wedge will be by my side. This artisanal cheeses befit a man of my station.
What? You’re going to make me say it? OK, fine, if you must. Yes, it even makes a better sandwich than you do.
I’m sorry. But let’s not make this too big a thing, now. We’ve had some laughs. There are plenty of guys out there who still need their cheese pre-sliced. But I’ve moved beyond that, and I think you’ve moved beyond me. You deserve someone who will appreciate you – but that someone is no longer me. Goodbye, then. Take care.
Oh, wait: do you know how to pronounce “artisanal”? Is it “are-TEASE-uh-nul” or “ar-ti-ZAh-nul” or- What did you say? Yikes. Well, I’m sure it isn’t pronounced that way. It doesn’t even start with an F.