We have a customer who will repeatedly wait until we are out of a certain cut of meat to come in and ask for it. They do this every week without fail, which is how we’ve noticed this habit of his. It always ends up with him complaining to a manager.

He pulls that on my manager and me during the last half of a very busy and very s***ty day.

Customer: *Scanning the counter and identifying a meat cut that’s sold out.* “I’ll take [meat cut].”

Me: *Not even hiding my contempt.* “We’re out.”

Customer: “Why do I always hear that?”

Manager: “Because you always wait until we’re out to ask.”

He narrows his eyes and glares but walks away without a word. He hasn’t been back in a few weeks now, so maybe his power play isn’t as thrilling to him when he knows that we know we’re on to him.

A customer wanders into the butcher’s, and she seems a little off.

Customer: *Rude and gruffly.* “I want rump steak.”

I go into the locker, get the meat, and cut it. We always show the customer the meat before we sell it to them. I show her this steak, and she totally freaks out.

Customer: *Screaming.* “I ordered f****** rib you dumb s***!”

Me: “You didn’t. You asked for rump steak.”

My initial suspicions that not all was right with this woman is confirmed as she escalates from angry shouting, to:

Customer: “I’m going to f****** stab you!”

At this point, my boss, plus two colleagues, look over, all brandishing various knives, some being steak knives that more or less look like machetes and start simply waving them around.

The customer screams and storms out, thankfully never to be seen again.

An old lady is looking at the meat display.

Customer: “Do you have chicken legs?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Is that why you’re wearing pants?”

Caught me off guard. I walked right into it. I was still laughing about it long after she had left. And yes, she bought chicken legs.

I work in the meat department. On Sundays, we take thirty to forty pounds of sausage and shape it into a pig and put cherry tomatoes on the face for eyes, and slide it into the case as part of the display.

Customer: “I want a pound of sausage.”

I take the scoop and start to get it and she screams.

Customer: “NO! Not from the rump I want it from the shoulder!”

Me: “Ma’am, this is all just sausage meat.”

Customer: “And I want it from the shoulder! I don’t like rump meat!”

I decide that I can’t argue with a customer stupid enough to think that we lowered an entire pig into the grinder to get this display. I scoop her “shoulder” meat for her and she’s on her way.

It was later that afternoon when another customer asked if the pig had “swine flu” because of its “swollen red eyes” that we decided to stop doing that display. This is why we can’t have nice things…

Related:
Never Sausage A Thing Before, Part 6
Never Sausage A Thing Before, Part 5
Never Sausage A Thing Before, Part 4
Never Sausage A Thing Before, Part 3
Never Sausage A Thing Before, Part 2

It’s the first days of the [global health crisis] lockdown. People are freaking out, and many unfortunate people are passing away in hospitals from this mysterious illness. Vaccines are still months away.

Our butcher shop is only letting in three people at a time, and masks are required — no exceptions.

A woman, her husband, and a child come in. There’s already one person in the store at this time.

Me: “Hello, ma’am. We are only allowing three people in the store right now. If you want, two of you can wait outside and one of you can browse until this gentleman leaves.”

Woman: “There’re only two of us.”

I look directly at her husband and child.

Me: “Uh… there’re three of you…”

Woman: “[Son] doesn’t count.”

Me: “Children still count as people, ma’am. Please wait outside.”