I decided I needed some brie. I thought, “Brie. I need Brie.” I knew my life would change with brie. Almost all women with the name of Brie are attractive, and also many of your better writer parties (wooden floors, secretive cats, cool eyeglasses, cheesy dude with ponytail [throat-clearing sound here] all that) serve Brie. Brie would elevate and sparkle like suitcases unpacked late at evening, or maybe marigolds made of butter. Like that. Very Brie.
One time at writer party my friend got on his vintage bike and then we built a ramp (seemed like good idea at time) in the street then we lit the ramp afire with quality vodka and then another guy sprawled out below the ramp and my friend jumped over him on the vintage bike and I think maybe broke the bike but the memory appears here and now as whole.
Question: Why did my brie have so many layers of packaging?
1.) Package, cardboard. Colors less vibrant than I expected. My mind kept going, “Jello” while thinking, “Brie.” Like two things at once. If you grab a very hot plate, your mind will go, “Drop the plate!” and at the same time, “Don’t drop the plate! The plate will break.” Two thoughts simultaneously. Like that.
At Mexican places they always go, “Hot plate! Hot plate!” Like I am an idiot or a lawyer (but I repeat myself there).
In disc golf putting, they say, “Have a positive thought as you putt. That way no negative thought could get in.” I told my friend this and he said, “That’s bullshit. Only dumb people can’t have more than one thought at once. Most other people do it all the time. That’s why we are all neurotic.”
2.) Remember back when we were all crazy and supposed to hate French people? It was like our government was saying, “People of the states. Like this. Hate that.” I never got that one. Then in one of those wars Turkey didn’t let us use the Northern front, and no one said, “No turkey this thanksgiving!”
And I love French Fries.
Sometimes people go, “Sean, when’s the last time you ate a vegetable? And I say, ‘Fries this afternoon, about four.'”
* McDonald’s has best fries, but I boycott McDonald’s. Have not eaten there for over a decade (since I did research on an article about their food practices for a small magazine in Tuscaloosa, AL).
* Burger King fries suck and taste like grease.
* Wendy’s fries OK if minutes fresh. Company adds too many fragments and also doesn’t mind serving blackened, stubby fries.
* Backyard Burger has best fries (also rings) I can ethically eat. They also have black bean burger. All you fast food places that will not serve black bean burgers, I hope you fall into a Volkswagen, or at least a malaise of the soul.
3.) Then a big-ass can for the brie, like a cat food can, or tuna. Weird. This is some serious-ass cheese. This can could handle bomb damage, or like your dad mentioning he likes your shirt. Like that.
4.) Then a crinkly, waxy foil-like covering. You could free-base on this foil, but I wouldn’t.
5.) Brie is a soft cow cheese. What is a soft cow? If I was a cow, that would insult me.
Hey man! You calling me soft? How about I get these horns and go exponential on your ass, city boy!!
(Big cow roar here. Hooves and dust, all that.)
6.) Then the skin. Can you eat the skin? Yes, you can. In fact, if you don’t, some people will think you unsophisticated, if you care. You don’t, right? Whew.
Cool thing is French people will describe a cheese as “moldy” and mean it as a compliment.
BTW, my brie tasted like sponge, with a hint of ammonia. I’m not sure it will change my life, so might move to Alaska, like that Carver story, or the idea that moving around externally will change your internal reality, as if you can escape you, and where to?
Must go teach my summer class now.