Back in March of this year I wrote a post about grocery carts and mentioned that the meat department is located to the left of the bakery. This means that we can often overhear what goes on over there. Well, I shouldn't say often because 99% of the time it's like no one's there. Those guys take as many breaks as they can, and spend the rest of the time hiding out in the back with the meat. To get their attention there is a green call button out front that customers can press, but I promise you that those guys pretend they don't hear it when it goes off because their customers are always coming over to my counter asking if I can page someone. When I asked the manager of the meat department why there's never anyone available out front, he told me to f**k off and mind my own business. Yup, the guy's a real class act.Anyway...
Recently, an old women (well, she wasn't that old, maybe 65 or so) showed up at the meat counter looking to buy the sirloin special of the week. I don't know how long she'd been waiting for one of the guys to come out and help her, but it must have been too long because she came over to the bakery asking for service. What unfolded from that moment on was quite the spectacle. In the end, a request for sirloin turned into a demand for free meat, and that's exactly what she got.
Free Meat Lady: (approaching the bakery counter) Excuse me, can I get some service?
Me: Yes, mam, what would you like?
FML: I want some meat.
Me: Oh.
FML: How do I get meat service?
Me: Mam, there's a button at the end of the meat counter that you can press. It will alert one of the guys in the back to come out so you can get some service.
FML: Oh, OK. Thank you.
I watched her go over to the meat department to make sure she spotted the button I was talking about. She found it alright, put her finger on it, and let it ring. She waited a few seconds, then pressed it again, this time keeping her finger on it for what seemed like a full minute, but no one came out to serve her. Meanwhile, from where I was standing, I could see through the meat department's backroom door (it has a glass window) that the guys where in there, butchering away. Those guys are such bastards, I was thinking to myself, when...
FML: HELLO??? HELLO?? CAN I GET SOME SERVICE OUT HERE???
The woman had started yelling for one of the guys to come out front.
Me: (turning to speak to Drey, my co-worker) I can see those guys back there. They definitely heard her because I saw them look towards the door when she yelled.
Drey: OMG, this is crazy!
Me: I know!
FML: (banging her hand on the display case) HELLO? (bang, bang, bang) IS ANYONE GOING TO SERVE ME SOME MEAT??? (bang, bang, bang)
Well, that did us in. Drey and I started laughing. I know it wasn't right because that woman did not deserve to be treated like that by those jerks, but you had to be there. We just couldn't help it. We were so far gone, we had to duck behind the counter so no one could see us, especially not FML. I don't think that would have gone over very well.
When we came up for air, I saw the Irishman (one of the guys who works in the meat dept.) exiting the backroom.
Me: (nudging Drey) Look, it's the Irishman. He's going to talk to her.
Drey and I moved closer to the end of the bakery counter so we could hear what they were saying.
Irishman: (speaking to FML) Mam, how can I help you?
FML: (rudely) By serving me some meat.
Irishman: OK, what kind of meat would you like?
FML: I want the sirloin that you have on special.
Irishman: I'm sorry, mam, we're all out.
FML: (raising her voice and getting as close as she could to the Irishman, despite the display case between them) I don't care, I want the special.
Irishman: I'm sorry, mam, I can give you a rain check.
FML: NO! No rain check! Let me speak to your manager!
Irishman: I'll go get him, mam. Just a moment.
Well, forget waiting, FML followed the Irishman behind the counter, and they didn't even get to the door because out came the meat manager with a huge a** knife in his hand. Drey and I gasped as he, FML and the Irishman almost collided.
Meat Mngr: (backing away with his knife just in time) Mam, you can't be back here.
FML: (yelling at the meat manager) I DON'T CARE! I WANT FREE MEAT!
Meat Mngr: OK, Mam, what kind of meat do you want?
FML: I want the meat special. I want the sirloin.
Meat Mngr: Mam, I don't have that, but name your meat, any meat, and you can have it.
FML: I want free meat then.
Meat Mngr: No problem. What kind would you like?
FML: (stressing every word) I WANT FREE MEAT!!
Meat Mngr: Right, OK, mam, I'll be right back.
Off he went into the backroom to get FML some meat. Meanwhile, Drey & I were dying of laughter. It crossed my mind that maybe I should go get myself some Depend undergarments before I pissed myself, and some oxygen for Drey before she passed out.
Meat Mngr: (exiting the backroom with a large package of meat) Here you go, mam. Here is your free meat. I even put a sticker on it so they won't stop you at the cash.
FML: (grabbing the package from his hands & looking it over) It's not what I wanted, but it will do.
And, just like that, it was all over.
Me: (pulling myself together & turning to speak to Drey) Wow, that was... wow.
Drey: Yeah... wow.
Me: I really thought I was gonna pee my pants.
Drey: (giggling) OMG, don't get me started again.
Meat Mngr: (approaching our counter) Hey, you guys hear any of that?
Me: Uh, she was yelling. How the h*ll could we not?
Meat Mngr: F**k, man. I gave her like 10 pounds of free rib eye, and she still wasn't happy.
Me: (gee, I wonder why, jacka**) Yeah, she was pretty pissed.
Meat Mngr: I need an f-ing smoke.
Yeah, shoved up your a**, sh*thead. Maybe that will teach you not to ignore your customers.
JB
