She Earned Her Name, Apparently

, , , , , | Working | January 7, 2021

My friend has German heritage but grew up in a heavily Hispanic neighborhood in Southern California. His mother regularly shopped at a carniceria (butcher’s shop) local to her for unusual cuts she could not get at a regular grocery store. She had a great relationship with the workers and managers at the carniceria, but she also had a wicked sense of humor.

One day she goes to pick up some meat for her family’s dinner.

Butcher: “Hola, Señora [Mother’s Last Name]! Cómo está, and what can I get for you?”

Mother: “Hola, [Butcher]. Could I have [order]?”

She gets what she wants, goes to the checkout, and happily pays for her groceries. The manager of the day is a son of the owner.

Manager: “Hola, Señora [Mother’s Last Name]! Did you find everything you needed today?”

Mother: “Oh, yes. And your butchers are always so nice! It’s great to be a regular in a neighborhood place like this! They always say, ‘Hello, gringa loca [crazy white lady],’ and I just think that’s so nice!”

The manager absolutely blanched, and my friend’s mother had to explain that it was a joke and that the butchers were not unprofessional after all.

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Today, We Are Learning About Patience

, , , | Right | December 3, 2020

I’m Irish. Ireland is going into full lockdown at midnight tonight, so I want to stock up on some essentials before it kicks in. One of those essentials is a couple of sides of very fresh salmon — emergency sashimi supplies.

So, I get to the fishmonger. He doesn’t have any sides cut, but he has a couple of whole salmon — Yay! — so he starts to fillet and debone them. For some weird reason, Ireland, an island entirely surrounded by seafood, isn’t that into seafood, so this is a biggish order. He begins to do his thing, and I wait.

We are interrupted by an “ahem.”

We look up. It is a small shop, with social distancing, one customer inside at a time. The doorway is fully occupied by an Entitled Woman. She has the hair, the stance, the “ahem,” the works.

The fishmonger looks back down at the salmon and decides that it needs to be trimmed some more.

Entitled Woman: *Ahem!*

Better check for bones, too. Again.

Entitled Woman: *AHEM!*

Perfect. Time to start on the second one. Nice careful trim. Check the angles, trim again.

Entitled Woman: *AHHHHEEEMMMM!*

Might be a bone, better double-check.

He kept her hanging on for twenty minutes! It was so funny. Her urgent question? “Do you have any clams?!”

Source: Reddit (Credit: PurpleWomat, Original Story)

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A Counting Mis-Steak

, , , , | Right | November 14, 2020

Me: “Hello! What can I get for you?”

Customer: “I’d like six eight-ounce filet mignon, please!”

Me: “Sure thing!”

I start wrapping the steaks individually and weighing them. They all weigh between 0.4 and 0.6 pounds, so around eight ounces.

Customer: “Woah! Those steaks are way too small. Cut me more.”

Me: “I’m sorry, miss, I thought you wanted eight-ounce steaks?”

Customer: “I do! So why does the scale say 0.5? Shouldn’t it say 0.8?”

Me: “The scale weighs in tenths of a pound, so eight ounces would be 0.5 pounds.”

Customer: *Visibly angry* “Do you even know how many ounces are in a pound?”

Me: “Yes. Sixteen. Half of sixteen is eight, so 0.5 lbs—”

Customer: “Fine! It’s fine. These will be okay, I guess.” *Storms off with the steaks*

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Your Order Lamb-Chopped In Half

, , , | Right | October 10, 2020

My grandma goes to her butcher about an hour before closing time. The butcher stops making meat about two or three hours before closing because some of the meat takes a while to cook. There are only a couple of lamb chops left, and my grandma wants to cook a nice meal for some family coming to town, so she grabs the last two.

Customer #1: “Why did you take the last two lamb chops?”

Grandma: “Not that it’s your business, but I have some family coming in town tonight and wanted to prepare a nice meal for them.”

Customer #1: “Well, I, too, have some guests coming over. You don’t need two cuts!”

[Customer #1] then reaches into my grandmother’s cart and removes one of the lamb chops, places it in her own cart, and walks away. The butcher looks at my grandma with a face of surprise and begins to call out to [Customer #1]. My grandma holds up her hand to the butcher.

Grandma: “No, it’s okay. She obviously needs it more than me.”

The butcher gave her a discount on the one lamb chop she ended up buying and a coupon for the next time she came in.

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Unfiltered Story #191768

, | Unfiltered | April 12, 2020

Me: can I have 400 lbs of mince please?
Everyone in shop: *stares*
Me: grams! I meant 400g!