Cheesy Cheesy’s Suicide 1-1
February 28th, 2008When I was 12 years old my dad would take me to visit his only relative in Canada. She was like a distant niece married to an Iranian gentleman. They ran a pizza shop in Port Hope called Cheesy Cheesy: Pizza and Wings.
They were the happiest, sweetest, and most hard working couple you had ever seen. They practically lived out of their store since they worked and delivered pizza at ungodly hours.
I remember I did a run once with the husband during a visit. It was getting close to midnight and I was dozing off as I tagged along behind him. He was full of energy, holding the pizza pies up high in their insulated cozies. The run was two pies in a government housing complex. I remember the place really creeped me out but the guy’s silly uniform and equally silly and glowing smile kept me reassured that everything was ok.
Even though he probably had been working for 18 hours he was set ablaze with energy and life. He came to this country with his wife, started a business, and was working towards buying a house.
We got to the door and he promptly pressed the buzzer. “Cheesy-Cheesy: Pizza and Wings,” he proclaimed. “Who is it?” a distant voice inquired. “Cheesy-Cheesy,” he said louder with a sense of pride.



