I Only Asked For Lamb...

There is a butcher’s in the village where I live, but it’s somewhere I don’t visit very often due to it being at the wrong end of the village. By wrong end, I don’t mean it’s the dodgy end, I mean I don’t drive past it, so I forget it’s there. I really should make more of an effort to visit them, because meat from a butchers, although more expensive, is much tastier than supermarket bought meat.

It’s run by two brothers who are both, I guess, to be in their mid to late 50’s. As with a lot of local shops, they are on first name terms with many residents. Not me though, however they are both very friendly and whenever I’ve been there I’ve spent a good ten minutes or so having a chat.

The other day I skipped down there, wanting to buy some lamb.

Butcher 1: Hello there, what can I do you for?

Me: I’d like some lamb please for a casserole; enough for four people.

Butcher 1: No problem, I can do you leg, or even better, neck fillet.

Me: Ooh, neck please.

He then proceeded to weigh it and then he diced it up for me. Meanwhile, Butcher 2 was doing butcher-type things with bacon or something and chatting away to me about the weather, psychics, eggs, traffic wardens; completely random stuff, but I was keeping up with the twists in conversation. Then:

Butcher 1: That’s one and a half kilograms in weight there.

Me: Uh, what’s that in pounds? I don’t really do metric.

Butcher 2: Ooh, an old fashioned girl, eh?

Me (laughing): Certainly am.

Butcher 1: I do both, me.

Butcher 2: Does that make you bisexual?

Me: *blink*  …  *blink*

Butcher 1: Well… yeah… I s’pose it does.

Me: *blink*  …  *blink*



Village life, eh?