Lyle, Don't Eat My Cottage Cheese

With help from: fubar, Vox, Ginzu, Lily, and Eowyn

      Dwight stepped forth from the large metal building and deeply inhaled the fresh, crisp, cool air, which would have smelled like cottage cheese to Dwight’s nose if it weren’t for the aroma of cow dung that added a spicy texture not usually sprinkled into the curd. The smell actually reminded him of the sticky manila colored tape which he’d been fascinated with for the past month or so. Dwight had spent many days snorting the underside of the tape which clung to his fingertips as if it were one of the yellow signs people attached to their car windows saying things like: “I break my heels for shoe stores.”
      Dwight’s walk home was about a mile long, but he noted that the sheep could not yet see their breath which meant they were the only creatures who weren’t standing outside the factory on a cigarette break and whom were overdressed in their thick, off-white wool coats. He began to waddle toward his neighborhood but he was forced to stop after he’d gone about three yards to catch his breath. He leaned over so that he could rest his belly on his thighs and make breathing a little easier.
      Out of the corner of his eye Dwight saw something moving. This was nothing new to him, for things moved all the time that he only caught part of because his attention was focused elsewhere, but this time the movement was such that he instantly turned his head to make sure that the corner of his eye was not trying to play a trick upon the rest of his eye. There he saw a sight that caused the his eyes to fill with tears of joy, The central city fountain was spewing forth cottage cheese. Just before Dwight could get his short, plump legs to began moving toward the sculpture of the straw man, which looked as though it was rather sick and showing everyone what it had eaten for lunch, he realized that the corner of his eye was, in fact, playing a trick on him and the fountain was just an ordinary water fountain and not a cottage cheese fountain. This was the second time this had happened to him. The last time he was standing at his spot along the production line diligently placing a rubber O-ring inside the lids which would later be screwed on top of the stenciled glass jars containing bright red beets or thick, brown masses of black-eyed peas when he thought he saw a cleaning bucket filled with cottage cheese. He turned toward the yellow bucket, letting several lids hurl past him, only to discover that it was overflowing with the foamy soap suds used to clean-up the mess caused when one of the mason jars slipped off the conveyer belts and splattered all over the floor.
      Dwight sighed a deep, longing sigh as he turned again toward his apartment on the outskirts of the town, and began to think about the recent problem that had cropped up in his life; he had a great desire to eat his roommate’s cottage cheese. For many people that would have been a small problem, but for Dwight it was the the biggest problem in the whole wide world. Dwight would sit awake at night and dream of the cottage cheese which sat in the large brown refrigerator underneath the cabinet containing the baking supplies. Some nights he would get up out of bed and open the door, letting out the light contained inside the icebox. He would then sit and stare at the white carton which sat on the second shelf, right above the leftover ham and sausage pizza and the Natural Light cans. His hand would reach out. Every time his hand touched the cool, damp plastic surface he began to feel guilty about eating the cottage cheese that belonged to Lyle, the rat faced dog.
      Dwight had once gone so far as to eat Lyle’s cottage cheese and he was placed instantly in bad favor with his roommate. Dwight had arrived home from work and stared for a long time at the contents of the refrigerator. The leftovers, which seemed to have turned a few colors they had not been while at the restaurant, did not whet his appetite. In desperation he grabbed the cottage cheese which sat upon the shelf. Grasping a fork, Dwight took a bite. A smile filled his face and rapidly he began shoveling cottage cheese into his mouth like a child given a hot fudge sundae for dinner. When next Dwight looked upon the container, he noticed that he’d eaten nearly half of the contents. Hastily Dwight began trying to fluff the remaining curd and hide how much he’d eaten. He stirred and fluffed, moving the white chunks in a circular motion. The smile on his face from the first taste turned into a frown when he noted that instead of making the level rise, it had fallen still further. Dwight sealed the lid over the edge of the bucket and placed it on the top shelf behind nearly empty jars of pickles and condiments ranging from mayonnaise to the mild yellow mustard and past that to jalapeno oil. Closing the door he moved over to the sink and washed his fork, placing the clean utensil back with its shining silver peers.
      The next day, Dwight came home from work and was going to finish off the rest of Lyle’s cottage cheese because he was going shopping that night and knew he was going to be able to replace it When he opened the container which he thought was half full, for he was an optimist, he saw a piece of yellow paper instead of the chunky, white, creamy cheese he was longing for. On the paper there was written a poem:

Dwight sat, staring at the golden pulp, not really understanding the words which it contained, but more sniffing the fresh, winterish smell he loved so much. He sat there, allowing the warm air around him to overtake the artificially cooled air inside the refrigerator. He was so wrapped up in smelling the paper that he failed to hear the thunderous footsteps of Lyle.
     “What are you doing eating my cottage cheese? Did I say that you could eat it? Didn’t you read the poem I put in there especially for you? The cottage cheese is mine! You can eat anything else in there, but lay off my cottage cheese! I don’t know why, but people always start eating my cottage cheese! I don’t know why! They never eat it at any other time! I’ve gone to restaurants with people and listened to them complain about the smell and taste of cottage cheese, but when they get back here and see that I have some in the ‘fridge, they always ask it they can eat some of it! What is it about keeping cottage cheese in a ‘fridge that make everyone instantly attracted to it? Is it merely the fact that it is such an odd thing for one person to keep in his own private space that makes it seem so much better? Is it that when they see it in my refrigerator, they instantly think that food is better if it is store bought and kept in containers where it is allowed to stay fresher longer than if it were sitting on a salad bar somewhere?”
      Dwight lifted the paper, which had been sitting in the container, to his nose and inhaled deeply. The act of huffing the paper reminded him of the tape which he’d stuck to his nose so many times before. He almost gaged, but was able to suppress the feeling when his nostrils were filled with the pleasant smell of cottage cheese. He began moving his mouth as if he were chewing the small chunks of cheese. Saliva filled his palate. He swallowed many times and with great force, else he drool down his chin, and over the front of his t-shirt which was advertising Red Dog Beer.
     “Never in the three years that we’ve been living together have I noticed you eating cottage cheese! What brings you upon this sudden desire to eat healthy foods instead of the fat-filled, greasy rations of which you usually partake? Did you suddenly realize that if you continued to eat as you have in the past that you might never make it to see the day when you can finally leave this town and head out to a place where the traffic isn’t stopped by pigs hunting for truffles in the street? Did it strike you that if you would eat more cottage cheese you might actually gain some muscle and then not get picked on by the people in the mail room so much? Did you think that the nutritional value of the cheese would help you move the little pawns around the chess board better? Really man, what got into you? I’ve never before seen anyone converted to a health food nut quicker than you have been! You make me sick! You make me want to go out and eat a large helping of bloody animal meat covered in the by-products of which a cockroach wouldn’t drag its feelers through!” exclaimed Lyle.
      Dwight sat stunned by the reaction of his roommate and friend Lyle. Never before had he heard such conviction or such feeling in his voice. He felt ashamed that he had ever tasted the food which sat there tempting him. He desired nothing more than to crawl into his bed, pull the covers up over his head, and hide in embarrassment. He knew nothing he could say would make things any better for him now.
     “I’m so sorry, Lyle. I don’t know what’s come over me. I can’t control myself. I didn’t think you’d mind this much. I meant to buy you some more this evening when I went to the store. You’re right, I normally wouldn’t be caught dead eating that cottage cheese, but I can’t help myself. I just sit there and think about it all day and night.”
      Perspiration had begun to build up on Dwight’s upper lip causing him to give off a sour odor that almost overpowered the scent on the paper he was holding in his heavily shaking hand. Hastily he wiped up the sweat with a bit of the paper and then dropped the paper so he would not have to listen to it rustle with the movement of his jittery hand. “When I sleep, I dream about floating down a large cottage cheese river where I can just scoop large handfuls of it up at any time and eat it. When I walk to work and see the pebbles in the road where the pavement has fallen apart, I can think of nothing more than a large vat of cottage cheese which I can wander up to and sample whenever I have the whim. You don’t know how many times I’ve actually stooped down and reached out my hands, not caring that I might get run over, just so that I may get a small taste of the cottage cheese. I’ll buy my own and eat only that. We can have matching containers of cottage cheese. No, better yet, I will buy some of that expensive, low fat Kraft brand cottage cheese instead of the generic store brand which I see you last bought.”
     “Dwight, there is a man I know who might be able to help you get over your obsession. He’s a really nice man and he’ll let you play in his office for hours while you talk to him. Would you like to go see him?”
     “He’d give me cottage cheese to eat?” Dwight looked up hopefully at Lyle through the tears which were filling his eyes and distorting his vision, making it look as though Lyle stood on the opposite side of a waterfall.
     “He might even give you some cottage cheese to eat. He is a really nice man and he likes to help people who are having problems with things.”
     “I don’t have a problem!” Dwight yelled, pointing at Lyle with the empty bowl. “I just like cottage cheese, that’s all! There is nothing wrong with liking cottage cheese! Would you say you have a problem because you like to watch all the movies that are set in Idaho? There is no difference.
     “You’re right. You don’t have a problem. I didn’t mean to say that. It’s okay, Dwight. But would you like for me to call him and make an appointment for you? Then maybe we can go to the store and get you some cottage cheese... Would you like that?”
     “Yes, I’d like to go buy some more cottage cheese, but I don't know if I want to go see this friend of yours. Especially if he is going to say that I have a problem. Why don’t we just go to the store and buy more cottage cheese. I promise I won’t eat yours any more!”
      The two roomamtes went to the store and shopped for cottage cheese, but while they were there Dwight’s eye caught upon something that utterly fascinated him. There on the self lined with boxes whose fronts were covered in cartoon animals doing all sorts of things, Dwight saw a picture of his hero, Mr. T. He grabbed up the box and tore open the lid trying to get to the contents. If Mt. T recommended this stuff then surely it had to be better than cottage cheese. his only thought was how he wa goig to be able to add the milk that made the cerial so delicious. He ripped open the plastic liner, scooped-up a handful of the little wheat Ts, and shoved them into his mouth. Chewing rapidly so he’d be able to take another bite. He followed Lyle and the rickety metal grocery basket through the store. By the time they were ready to check-out the box was empty and Dwight ran down to aisle five so he could frab a few more boxes of his heavenly food. The idea of eating cottage cheese once again filled Dwight’s mind with disgust and he and Lyle were able to live in peace once again.

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