Someone Stole My Sandwich

This may get me uninvited from all parties henceforth.

So I might be a little drunk. Just sayin’.

So I heard there was a party happening in the near vicinity and Loony was in such a bad fucking mood after spending THE WHOLE DAY with the kids and, incidentally, trying to make cookies with them (rookie error) that I was like, Party? I LOVE PARTIES!

I texted the person who didn’t invite me to his party and was like:


Too eager?

Anyway, we went and there was THE BEST CHEESE EVER at this party.

Have I told you how I feel about cheese?

For one, I judge  a person’s character by how they treat soft cheese. I feel that if there is a soft cheese at the buffet, it is your duty to take a slice of the cheese and put it on your plate.

Do you not like rind? That’s your prerogative. However, it is totally not okay to dig out the soft inner center of the cheese and leave nothing but rind on the table.


There are two kinds of people in this world. Diggers and everyone else. It is not okay to dig out the soft center. That is all.

Anyway, there was this kind of cheese in the “Cheese Room”


Yes, I took a picture of the box because it was that good. The cheese was a soft round with the top cut off and in the center was a beautiful puddle of soft cheese, liquid at room temperature.

I wanted to make sure I remembered the name of this cheese after the buzz wore off.

The cheese was so gushy and liquid that you HAD TO SPOON IT OUT OF THE RIND! If you took the rind, it would run all over the table. So for this party I avoided the existential angst of to rind or not to rind.

I like rind, FYI, just not 100% rind.

Anyway, it was so goddamned good that I felt that I must take a little home to hoard for a midnight snack share with my kids that I tore a baguette in half and stuffed it with cheese and then a little prosciutto that was just lying around and then I wrapped it up with a napkin butcher style and set it aside for when I went home.

I mean, there was so much cheese. It would be a shame to see it go to waste.

I told Loony what I did and he was like, “Did you put it in your coat sleeve?” and I was like, “No. I have way more class than that,” but it turns out that for once he was right BECAUSE SOMEONE STOLE MY BAGUETTE!

You heard me.

Someone stole my sandwich.

Loony at first thought that maybe an over zealous cleaner-upper might have swept it away so he checked the trash cans … having appreciated the seriousness of this matter … but after I told him about the very loving butcher wrap job I did on it, he concluded that it was stolen.

So we walked around the party all J’accuse! looking for a napkin wrapped baguette sticking out of someone’s pocket.

In the end I was forced to return home to my kids, empty handed. Except for this:


It’s all that would fit into my coat pockets

This might get me uninvited from all nice parties forever. But here’s the thing, you are welcome to come to my house, enjoy the party, take food home and maybe even a bottle of wine.

I take but I give, too.

10 thoughts on “Someone Stole My Sandwich

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