Peace on Earth and Good Will Toward Men.

Any gift I buy for Xmas tends to be food. Why? Because you can't really go wrong with that. If you know the person you are purchasing for, you don't have to wrack your brains to find “the right gift.” A few packs of Klondike Bars may just be the ticket for someone. 

There's a local butcher nearby where I was shopping today. I needed a pile of Italian cut meats for a PigFest we're having tomorrow. There's no pig. We're the pigs. We're shoving fat, salt and grease into our mouths in celebration.

When I'm in a line, I tend to drift, let my mind go visit old movies, silly fantasies and what not. I keep that 20% of my brain online in order to hear the butcher's help call out, “Serving 22, Who's 22?” This time my peaceful un-mindfulness was disturbed by an altercation that turned out humorous.

“Whaddayamean you don't have pearl onions?” says the irate customer. She is about 50, overdressed for a butchery and has a slight smell of Anglo/Protestant/Barrington/Long Island to her. I could smell the haughtiness to her though, that stunck.

The teen clerk was trying to be as helpful as she could but couldn't get the fact that the butcher shop does not specialize in groceries to this angry women. The little teen girl was of slight build and probably didn't have too much experience in the way of dealing with idiot customers. “But you could go to Stop & Shop...it's not even a couple of miles from here in Seekonk.” The girl sheepishly says.

“But I'm HERE NOW.” the women says. She was putting her foot down!

We in the line are goofing on this women. Every now and then, we shoot knowing looks to one another about the imbeciles you meet in life.

Finally the owner comes out. I think all butchers are required to wear white aprons, to show you the blood they've been dealing with all day. “See? My meat is fresh!” It was bleeding on me just ten minutes ago!”

“Can I help you” says the butcher. This guy has a look of exasperation on his face. These past few and next day will be hell for him as everyone shows up demanding their Xmas crown roasts and tenderloins. He was schlepping cuts of meat as fast as he could these past few days, I'm sure.

We hear the repeated request for pearl onions, to which the butcher replies he stocks meat and meat products in his store, not veggies. He then vouches for the girl's idea of going to the Stop & Shop down the road. All of two miles.

“I want to talk to the manager!” the bitch threatens.

“I AM THE OWNER!” the butcher replies, losing his cool. “IF YOU WANT PEARL ONIONS, GO TO GODDAMN STOP & SHOP AND GET THEM THERE! THIS...IS A BUTCHER SHOP!”

The women stands there shocked, unable to move or respond.

“FORGET IT! GET OUT OF MY SHOP! IF I SEE YOU IN HERE AGAIN, I'M HAVING YOU ARRESTED!”'

She finally gets the message and quickly beats an escape out the door.

You've met these people and I hope you aren't one of them. Those who love to Lord their “The customer is always right” power over others. Well, for once, I got to see one of these little Napoleons get their faces rubbed in the dirt.

Anyways, I got my greasy mortadella, salami and other great stuff. On the way home, I started robbing it already, popping slices of salami in my mouth at the red light.