Meat

As most of you know, I don't just have crazy customers showing up at my counter on a daily basis, I also have crazy employees I have to deal with. Well, these people aren't all crazy, but they sure are special, and I obviously do not mean that in a good way. Anyway, what I am about to share with you is one of the more bizarre conversations that I've ever had with a couple of my employees. The whole thing came about because a girl who works with me gets a lot of bladder infections. Now, if you're a woman, then you've probably had at least one bladder infection in your life. (If you're a guy reading this and want to go read something else right now, I totally understand.) Well, I swear this girl has one a month, and I'm so damn tired of hearing her complain about how much her vah-jay-jay hurts. She's twenty something, likes to party and have random sex with guys. It's none of my business what she does on her own time, but her calling in sick all the time, or having to leave work early because she's in pain, means that I have to cover her shift 9 times out of 10. So, when Party Girl recently asked to go home because of yet another bladder infection, I told her that she would just have to suck it up, but then an older woman co-worker said something, and the conversation took a turn that was totally unexpected.

Party Girl: I really have to go home, JB. I'm in major pain.

Me: (you're a major pain...) H*ll, no! Too bad this time. Stop getting plastered every other day and doing the deed with God knows who. Go get some cranberry juice and suffer through it.

Older Woman Co-Worker: Come on now, JB, don't be so hard on her.

PG: Yeah, JB, it really hurts.

Me: (glaring at PG, and then turning to speak to OWC) Why not? She does it to herself and we are busy here. I can't do everything myself, you know.

OWC: But, JB, her meat hurts.

PG: (practically screeching) MY WHAT????

Me: (OMG, WTF??????) Excuse me, what did you say?

OWC: I said her meat hurts.

PG: What????

Me: (holy crap, I did hear right) Her meat???

OWC: Yes, I don't like saying the word.

Me: What word?

OWC: You know...

Me: (maybe...) Come on, tell me.

OWC: V... v... you know...

Me: (omg, seriously??) Are you telling me that you refer to a woman's vagina as her meat??

OWC: (practically cringing... the poor God fearing woman) Yes, meat. I... I don't say the "v" word. My mother told me when I was young that it was a bad word.

PG: (nothing, just a wide eyed look over at me)

Me: (trying not to laugh) OK, explain to me why you call it meat.

OWC: Well, if she (referring to PG) would stop washing her meat in hot water, she would get less infections. Hot water is not good for the meat.

PG: (flabbergasted) Excuse me??

Me: (OMG, is this old woman for real??) You don't honestly believe that, do you?

OWC: (pointing to the left) Look over there, JB.

Me: (the only thing over there is... OMG...) You mean at the meat counter?

OWC: Yes, exactly.

Me: (O... K...) Now what??

OWC: Well, you see the meat over there?

Me: (where the h*ll is she going with this??) Yes...

OWC: Well, the guys over there wash it all in cold water and that's why it's clean.

Me & PG: (nothing, just a quick look between us, eyes bugging out our heads)

OWC: Cold water stops infections, but hot water makes them spread.

(Note: Just so we're clear, I have no frickin' clue where OWC got that idea that the meat department guys wash the meat to keep it clean. Meat is for sale as long as it's fresh. If it doesn't sell, it gets thrown out... not washed.)

Me: (it's too crazy... I have no words... just laughter)

OWC: (very serious) I mean it, JB! My mother always washed my meat in cold water.

Me: (TMI... TMI!!!) I... oh... my... hmmm...

PG: (speaking to OWC) I don't know what the h*ll you're going on about, but my meat, as you call it, hurts because I have sex a lot. You know, sex??

Me: (OMG, she did not just say that!!!!) Uh, PG, that's not...

PG: (interrupting me) You remember, sex, don't you? So, that's why my meat hurts, OK? Not because I wash it with hot water.

Me: (oh, h*ll...) Alright, PG, enough.

OWC: (practically in tears) You... you young people.. you don't know anything... you don't... I am going on my break!!

Me: (ah, sh*t...) Wait...

OWC: (practically running out of the bakery) No, I'm going!

PG: Do you really think she washes her vah-jay-jay with cold water, JB?

Me: (turning to look at PG) Enough! Enough, or I'll end up having nightmares about that old woman and her meat.

PG: I'm in soooo much pain, JB.

And I will never be able to look at meat the same way ever again.

JB