He Wants His Hundredth A Pound Of Flesh

(I stop by the meat counter at my local grocery store to stock up on some different meats. I decide to pick up some chicken, as it is on sale. Thus far, I’ve been making friendly small talk with the guy behind the counter, and nothing amiss has occurred.)

Meat Guy: “Anything else I can get for you, ma’am?”

Me: “Yes, could I please get a pound of the chicken drumsticks?”

Meat Guy: “Sure thing.”

(He reaches down and pulls out the tray, then grabs a handful of them and places them on the scale to check the weight. It comes out to 0.99 pounds. He then bends down to put back the tray with the rest of the drumsticks.)

Me: *jokingly* “Oh, man, 0.99 pounds isn’t going to cut it! I need exactly one pound.”

Meat Guy: *stands up, looking absolutely terrified* “Oh, uh, um, really? I…”

Me: *realizing he took me seriously* “Oh, my gosh, no! I was totally kidding. 0.99 is just fine.”

Meat Guy: *still looking anxious* “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s not a problem. I’m usually fine with whatever I get, as long as it’s within about a tenth of a pound off from what I asked for. I’m actually amazed it’s so close to a pound!”

Meat Guy: “Oh!” *laughs* “Okay. Some people actually do insist that I fix it when this happens.”

(You’d think that after five years of reading this site, I’d realize that some people actually are horrible enough to do that.)