Sometimes truth is stranger than the Cheese Shop sketch.
As I stopped by the local national-chain sandwich shop this evening to get a fast dinner (don’t laugh too hard if you’ve been to Subway before), I decided that the remaining raspberry cheesecake cookies on the counter rack looked relatively appetizing. I asked for three, and the young lady proceeded to get tongs and remove them.
“That’s fine,” I replied.
“They’re very crumbly,” she said.
Decision time. Should I follow the trail blazed by Mr. Cleese four decades earlier and just blurt out, “I don’t care how ****ing crumbly they are! Bring on the raspberry cheesecake cookies with all due haste and speed!”?
Answer: “That’s fine.”
I’m sure she either didn’t comprehend the ironic smile on my face, or else she called the police and I’m being surveilled for sexual harassment.
