Cheesy Grin

The other day a friend shared the following Craigslist employment ad with me:

Cheesemaking Assistant
(name changed to protect...something) - one of the northwest's premier artisan cheesemakers. Located in *Somewhereville, WA.* Assist with all aspects of handmade cheese production, from curd forming to affinage, cleaning and packaging. Must have excellent hygeine, food handling experience and be able to lift 40lbs repeatedly. 20-30 hrs. per week. Begin immediately. Serious applicants should email resume and references.

I'm sure there's a cheesemaker out there somewhere who will slam me sideways for making fun of this at all, but... c'mon. Apropos of yesterday's post, I can't not... you know I've gotta go there! Because, let's face it, a cheesemaking ad of any kind is funny just because it's a blast to say cheesemaker. Hell, I'm turning it into my new insult. Dude... don't be a friggin' cheesemaker! Man, I have had one nasty cheesemaker of a day... *ahem* Savvy?

Ok, I'll start with a compliment. I'll ignore that the employer skipped capitalizing Northwest, and move right on to the impressive use of affinage. Sure, it's an industry word and you probably can't work there for 5 minutes without learning it, but still - I'm sure that weeded out a lot of lowlife applicants right there. I'm really glad they require excellent hygiene. I mean... ew... I would think that's a given, but sometimes ya just gotta be blatant about stuff.

What really tossed me to the floor, howling and chortling was the last line: Serious applicants should email resume and references. I mean, you've got to be serious if you're applying for a job as Cheesemaker, nay, Cheesemaking Assistant (there's room for advancement!), right? How could you not be serious. "Hi, I'm here for an interview with Joe for the Cheesemaking Assistant position." Go ahead, try to say that aloud without busting up. I can't. You've got to be serious. Shit, you've got to be downright lugubrious to pull that one off.

Now, before I get lambasted by all of the Cheesemakers (Assistants and... gawd... is there such a thing as a Head Cheesemaker?!) who read my blog, please understand that I have the utmost respect for what you do. I love cheese, really I do (now there's a Looney Tunes blast from the past). My life would be utterly bereft without cheese. Hell, I would date a Cheesemaker (they've got good hygiene after all). "Here, Darlin', I brought you a brick of that Danish Bleu you like so well, and a wheel of gouda." "Oh, Heathcliff, you shouldn't have. I'm in a fair way to have my head turned..."

Seriously, I'll take cheese over a dozen roses any day. If I had a little hootchie-mama thang going on the side with a vintner, I'd be set for life.

Speaking of employment, yesterday someone asked me if my new work roll was everything I'd dreamed of. My reply:
It's not quite what I'd dreamed, but to be fair, in the dreams I'm usually naked and any number of capibara-like rodents are helping to chew through the restraints while multi-colored kites float by untethered, and strange people speak Baltic type languages somewhere just beyond my line of sight - I never know what they're saying, but I keep hearing my name interspersed in their conversation. Other than that. Yeah. I'm sure you're wondering... no, that would not at all be an outlandish dream for me. Pretty much de rigueur for my somni-conscious wandering.
Whew. Curd forming is a fun one to say as well. I'm going to use that too. "Hey, now there's a curd forming idea! Well done!"

Someone stop the woman... she's outa control...