Top Ten Ways to Annoy Your Butcher.

1. Get angry at me for things I have no control over. I don't set the prices. I don't select the brands. I can't order brands we don't carry and I don't write the ad. One of my favorite sources of anger is when they put something like a whole pork loin on ad, then show a picture of an expertly roasted rack of pork carved and decorated with little booties and some poor SOB shows up actually expecting to get a cooked crown pork roast for 99 cents a pound. Really? (sigh)
2. Grill minimum wage workers over precise cooking instructions for complicated , expensive meals. Come on. I don't know if you realize this or not, but we can't afford to buy half the shit you do—king crab legs, lobster tails, filet mignon, sea bass, etc--let alone be expert in the preparation of it (most grocery store “training” boils down to “wash your hands and don't steal anything”). A little thing called Google, people. Use that $500 smart phone in your pocket and a little f@$king common sense.
3. Ring the the @^%$# bell and then not know what the @#%$ you want. This isn't the Mercedes showroom, I'm not going to twist your arm to buy some ground chuck. You either want it or you don't. Same with indecisive people (“I don't know what to have for dinner”) and people who can't make a six dollar purchase without consulting with someone on their cellphones.
4. Cellphones.
5. Mosey on up to me when I'm filling the case and ask, “What kinda deals you got today, buddy?” Do you want me to stop what I'm doing and recite you the entire ad, or can I just hand you a circular like everybody else? Or, here's an idea, look at all the pretty colored signs hanging above the case.
6. Try to negotiate the price. What is this #^%$ Abu Dhabi? This isn't a garage sale or a flea market. The price is the price. It's set by suits in Suit Town and there ain't nothing I can do for you. See #1.
7. Call for stupid reasons (especially during rush hours). Hey, I really enjoy stopping what I'm doing, putting down my knife, washing my hands, drying them and then taking your so-so-vital call. It's like taking a little break EVERY TWO MINUTES!And if it's something like, “Um, I bought a roast a couple, um, weeks, ago, and um it doesn't look so good. Is it, um, still safe to eat?” or “I'm going to be in the store in a couple hours and I was wondering what kind of steaks you have?' I'm going to hang up on you. Not really. I can't. But I'm hanging up on you in my mind. Special kudos, though, to the ones who call during the rush to ask “What kinda deals you got today, buddy?”
8. Ring the #&^%^&$%#$ buzzer when I'm standing right there. I may not have noticed you yet but a clearing of the throat or a shuffling of the feet will get my attention. Ringing the buzzer in that situation is like shouting at me. I'm a stressed man with sharp knives. I do not like people yelling at me.
9. Expect preferential treatment because you namedrop. I hate just about every #^^%#ing executive in the company so telling me you're golf buddies with him is just going to get you spit in your hamburger. Not really. Maybe.
10. And the final, sure fire way, to really, royally, piss-off a hard working meat-cutter is to waltz into the meat locker in your suit and tie and clipboard and proceed to tell me how to do my job and why I am not living up to corporate standards. I'm a stressed man with sharp knives; are you really yelling at me?