I love dessert, but…

Cheesecake is not my friend.

At a very early age I decided that I didn’t like it, and man, it just stuck.

No matter what is thrown in the mix. It could be oreos, it could be full that golden chocolate $1,000 delicacy stuff from that one place in New York.

You may be wondering why I am wasting all of this time talking about cheesecake if it is so GD horrible.

My brother’s favorite dessert is cheesecake (perhaps that is why I have disliked it for so long), and of course my parents bought him a $35 cheesecake from this famous bakery up here. Apparently, Frank Sinatra ordered this very cheesecake when he was still alive and kickin’.

When my mom was cutting slices, I, as always, replied to her look with a firm “no”. Well, the the thing with moms is they don’t always listen and sometimes think you really want something when you actually don’t. She put a jiggly piece right in front of my face. After trying to pawn it off on my brother (Since when do YOU reject cheesecake, bro?) and looking down at it through the twenty minute conversation my now 29 year old brother was having with my 75ish Nana (I wasn’t really paying attention), something completely absurd and unspeakable happened.

I picked up my fork and edged it toward the small paper plate. I raised the fork, thinking about what I was about to do. I then sunk that fork so deep into the cheesecake I wanted to hurl. But surprise! I didn’t. And. I. Couldn’t. STOP.

If Frank Sinatra ate the same cheesecake from the same famed bakery, it couldn’t be all that bad.

Even with that said, cheesecake is still not my friend. We are more…acquaintances.


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