Will Work For Cheese

I didn't go looking for work. It came looking for me. I gotta learn to just say no. It was my own sister who hooked me up and turned me on.


I took her lunch into our flower shop. Of course I had packed Sis a behemoth sized portion of my homemade lasanga extravaganza. She pasted it around. Girlfriend named Cheese Heidi tried it and couldn't get enough. Cheese Heidi earned her name because her family has their own cheese empire. They also have a huge farm and raise bison for meat production. Cheese Heidi runs a bistro and gourmet shop. She wanted me bad. I finally caved in to her pleas and thought I'd try it.

I told my friend Mitch that I was thinking of trying out this work thing. He got all upset that I would go to a stranger. Seams his family owns the number one Italian restaurant in the cities. They make trips to their home land to bring back their own ingredients, they are that peticular. Nice offer but intimidating. Plus I'd have to drive downtown for my fix.

I get high just walking into the bistro's kitchen. It is huge, new and well stocked. I have never seen such a well designed kitchen. I have every kind of import ingredient available and she has her own herb garden right outside my door. She has giving me creative license and encourages my ideas. My sous-chef is a culinary institute graduate. I cook, and I mix it up. Plus now I bring home the bacon.

Cheese Heidi may be a cheese natzi, but I respect her quest for perfection. She has very hight standards. Some think she is hard to work for, and has been known to fire or demote her staff, her sous- chef for example was hired for my job. I like that she doesn't settle for the mundane.

I look forward each day I go into planning the everchanging menu. I dance while I am there and it is contagious. Is she the enabler or am I? You tell me, who's pimping who?