The Return of the Roast Beef Lady

Remember that blog I wrote about the crazy lady who wanted the rarest roast beef and the cup of water etc?

 

She came back this week. Maybe it was Friday or something she was there.

I saw her and my spirits fell. My body literally sunk. She had called in the morning ironically enough, to ask my manager if the roast beef was rare, and if we could make sure we had some when she came in. Yea, OKAY.

She started with the “do you have a roast beef you make here?” thing again, and i quickly jumped in with the store-brand-on-sale-i-have-to-open- one shit. She got upset that i’d have to open a new roast beef, concerned it would not be rare enough for her. I assured her it would be.

So I opened a new roast beef, and we usually cut the 20 pound thing in half, and so each side is the same, equally rare, right from the middle.

I showed her the half i had picked up and put it on the slicer.

“let me see the other one,” she said. “is it rarer?”

‘THEY’RE BOTH EXACTLY THE SAME,” I *CALMLY* replied.

“well let me see them” she said.

So i show her both pieces together and she asks me, “Which one is rarer? I can’t tell.”

‘THEY’RE BOTH EXACTLY THE SAME,” I calmly reply.

“Okay,” she says, and agrees to let me start slicing.

“now, you’re gonna think i’m crazy…” she starts. But being that i remember her I interrupted her and said “you want a cup of water and a paper towel.”

and then i went to get her one. Then I sliced a TEEEEENY TINNNNY piece off for her, just like i knew she was going to ask for, and she tasted it and spit it out and asked for a pound of it.

While i’m slicing her fucking roast beef, she asks if we have saran wrap. Yes, i say, it’s what you made me wrap your meat in last time.

“What kind is it, is it the real kind?”

“IT’S THE SAME ONE I WRAPPED YOUR ROAST BEEF IN LAST WEEK”  i calmly reply.

Then the bitch asks if i have FOIL. Okay so now the plastic wrap she made me use last week isn’t good enough for her? well i fucking told her last week it was gonna make a mess and would be better if i put it in a boat first. No, she had said. just do it, do it as i say, she said.

well fuck you. no i don’t have foil for you.

then she starts to ask me to wrap it the plastic wrap and i said “YEA I KNOW I REMEMBER”

so she made a point of reading my name tag (not my real name of course) and saying “thank you for remembering). she probably went to complain about me to someone.

 

Anyway, here’s what her weird requests lead me to believe:

1. Based on her insistence that the roast beef be incredibly rare, and her distress at the thought that the other half could possibly be more rare, I’m thinking she’s a cannibal. I’m thinking she likes the taste of fresh meat. And her fear of being discovered and taken into custody has left her with no other choice than to just eat uncooked meat. She probably sits at home and touches herself while chewing it. “mmm roastttt beeef.”

2. Maybe she has an eating disorder. She definitely doesnt chew and swallow. Instead she nibbles, spits, and drinks some water.

3. Maybe she has a pet tiger at home or something, and she likes to make it sandwiches instead of just tossing it a piece of butchered meat. She likes to taste our premium deli meat first, to make sure it’s up to her tiger’s standards. Then when she goes home she puts it on some whole wheat bread with mayo and lettuce and cuts it into fours for her little striped kitty.

4. Based on her insistence that the meat be wrapped in plastic wrap then in a bag, she probably wants it tightly sealed so it doesnt stain her clothes when she STEALS it. I wouldn’t doubt it.

 

I hope she gets a tape worm and it finds its way to her brain and kills her.