Asking The Meaty Questions

(Our delivery truck is late and we are struggling to find things to put in our hot food case. My assistant manager hands me a box of brownies left over from Passover, which was three weeks ago.)

Me: *opening the box* “These are the ugliest brownies I’ve ever seen. They look like burnt meatloaf slathered in dog s***.”

Assistant Manager: “They’re just BROWNIES, [My Name]!”

Me: “I’d dispute you on that point.”

Assistant Manager: “Whatever. Just put them in the case.”

(As I’m putting them in the case, I look at her over my shoulder.)

Me: “Bet you a million bucks somebody looks at these and asks, ‘What kind of meat is that?'”

Assistant Manager: “Okay, [My Name], now you’re just being ridiculous.”

(A customer approaches.)

Assistant Manager: “Can I help you, sir?”

Customer: “Yeah, what kind of meat is that?”

(She gave me a death glare. I walked away shrugging and laughing.)