It's Meat

Last week I had to go buy $65 worth of chorizo at The Organic Butcher for the Ballroom's beer dinner. Somehow I never imagined it'd be that much so I went there before I went to Feast! to buy the chocolate we needed. So there I was, traipsing around Feast! with eleventy hundred pounds of the heaviest most sausage-y looking sausage there is searching for chocolate which I could.not.find and lord help me if I have to ASK someone, because I don't even wanna ask the librarian where the book I want is and THAT'S THEIR JOB. Ultimately I got it and while checking out politely excused myself to the cashier for the huge tray of phallic cold meat I was laying down on her counter while I wrote the check.

"What's this for?" the cashier queiried.

"The chocolate's for dessert. This is for dinner."

"Yeah. I got that." [insert snooty tone here]

I wasn't trying too be condescending but I suppose it came off that way. Not that I wouldn;t pre-judge someone carrying a huge stinky tray of meat in to my store as well, but honestly, didn't she realize I'd already suffered enough?