The (Creepy) Man Who Would Be King

Me, My Uncle, and the drummer from Foghat…
That’s how they all started it seemed. Every story he ever told began that same way, and believe me I heard a lot of stories from this guy. We called him queso because he was so cheesy. He brought cheese to a whole new level. This is the guy that remembers the days of leisure suits, big collars, white belts, platform shoes, and disco with the greatest of sentimentality. A fifty something artist with a bad marriage that we had to hear about day in and day out. He was a nice enough guy in a creepy uncle type of way. The kind of man you would never leave one of your children with unattended. He was habitually late and overly lazy. I’ve seen hard-core pot smokers with more motivation than this guy. He lived within spitting distance of our office but just couldn’t make it here on time. Being the new kid on the shift I drew the short straw and had to sit next to the Queso Grande.

Sitting next to the Queso wasn’t too bad. He was never at his desk. He was always roaming the building looking for his next target of opportunity, namely the curvy female with the blouse that peeked open just enough for Queso to sneak a little peek. His other favorite thing was to offer himself up as a public service and give creepy little backrubs whether you asked for one or not. He’d just slip up behind the girls and start rubbing, and they would turn around and see Queso Grande and get all creeped out.

Like I said it wasn’t to bad having to sit near him because he was never there. One Saturday we were working overtime and a few of us decided to track Queso's time he actually spent at his desk. Out of an 8-hour day he was there for exactly 41 minutes, thus why we had to work O.T.

When Queso was there no matter what you said he had been there done that and was an expert on anything you talked about. We used to make crap up to see if he would say he knew all about it… He always did. Never failed. He was always the expert even on completely made up things that don’t exist.

Sadly all our fun at Queso’s expense came to a sudden end when he was fired for being late for the zillionth time. How could we have been so blind as to miss the fact that Queso was royalty, a great man with great potential? Yet we turned him away to the cold of his battered beat up old Honda with 250,000 + miles on it and the ruptured seats and squeaky breaks. How could we have known that this cheesy man would in fact be a king?

Yes a real king. He wears his crown proudly and rules from a gilded thrown. You may even have seen him before. You can get an audience if you like but it will cost you.
You see Queso is King of Lawrenceville, GA… Really.
He performs nightly at Medieval Time Restaurant. I know that sounds humiliating. I could never do it, but Queso actually believes he is a king and fully plunges himself into the role.

So next time you’re in Lawrenceville, GA go buy and see King Queso at Medieval Times, and when you walk in and can get your photo made with the king just be sure you don’t let him too near you’re wife or kids.

JB