The butcher

I haven't done a decent grocery shop for a while, and so didn't have much in the way of lunch resources when I was prepping for the day this morning.  So I made a visit to the Spar (the home of the 12.95 Chicken Burger).

The enemy at work...

It seems the butchery is a pervasive source of discontent.  It doesn't matter whether its a Spar or a stand alone meat-market.  They're chronically staffed by deaf or persistantly disagreeable people who are incapable of accurately servicing your order.

I've taken to ordering ham by weight, because I'd given up estimating how many slices of Enterprize's finest was in a kg,  now relying on 100g multiples... depending on who's eating.
But it doesn't matter.  Oh no.  Forbid it that you should get what you order, let alone getting ever so slightly less than you order.  My package was weighed, wrapped and stickered before I could point out that 140g is not 100g.  It is infact 40% more.

Yes, I'm nit picking, but the principle holds for bigger chunks of meat.