You Ate A Whole Wheel Of Cheese?… In Les Arcs
It was our first week in resort, namely Les Arcs, and all the workers from our company decided to go out for a meal together.
We went to a little restaurant nearby and ordered our body weight in cheese and meat and it was amazing. The guy in the picture, Chris (later nicknamed Jesus because of his hair and the filthy beard that appeared over the course of the season), who had done about 8 seasons claimed he could eat a whole wheel of raclette to himself.
If you don’t know, a wheel of raclette is pretty big. A cheese fondue never looks like much until you’re half way through the bread basket and the melted cheese starts to mold to the shape of your lower intestine and block EVERYTHING.
Anyway, we challenged Chris to live up to his boast with the promise that we would pay for his food if he could do it. We sat back and watched for nearly an hour as he made his way through every last melting wedge. I can tell you it wasn’t pretty.
We lived up to our side of the bargain and paid the bill, still slightly disturbed as Chris polished off his dairy dinner with a couple of shots of Chartreuse.
It was us who had the last laugh, however, when Chris’ stomach started churning over in an attempt to dislodge the cheese that was now swimming in his gut like play-do in a bath tub. He was in pain for about three days and unable to relieve himself the entire time before he managed to shift the weight with a standard seasonaire morning laxative: coffee and a fag.
What a hero.