Intolerance

I bought a new dress. A NEW dress. The first one I have purchased since the debacle of '07. My papa was the only one who understood why I had ended things with Andre. Mama was not pleased. She had been trying to marry me off since my 18th birthday. " You have to look past their flaws, everyone has them." But I refused and alas, here I am 14 years later preparing for a first dinner with a noble gentleman who I had met at a local wine tasting. At the time, he simply said cheese paired with the wine means the wine could not stand on its own. I respected his passion for wine as mine for cheese. I can overlook that, but tonight, there would be no excuses for not trusting my impeccable fromage palate. With the new dress, fancy hair, and a smorgasbord of my most beloved cheeses, my heart skipped as the door knocked twice. I situated the tray for the last time. Oh, the beauty of the Beaufort Chalet d’Alpage, Carre Corse, Rovethym and ahhh the divine, Hercule. My heart flipped in anticipation.

The door knocks a third time as I made my way with the tray in hand opened it with a huge smile on my face. He smiled back until he eyed the tray. "Oh Mary, I must confess. I really like you, but unfortunately...I'm lactose intolerant."

The plate slid through my hand as though it had been severed off. I don't remember the exact sound of it as it hit the floor. I smiled politely, closed the door. Quickly, I reached down and picked up a thin slice of Hercule.

Oh, well. Here is to another 14 years. At least I have my cheese.