Here is how it usually goes whenever I do the grocery shopping and getting some meat or cheese from the deli counter is on the list.
Deli Lady: How would you like that cut?
Me: Thin please.
(Deli Lady turns a dial to a random setting, cuts a sample slice, and holds it out for me to see.)
Deli Lady: How is that?
Me: That’s fine.
I don’t know if everyone’s definition of “thin slice” is different, or if she’s testing me, or if she doesn’t care about anything, but there seems to be no correlation between what I say and what I get.
And it doesn’t matter anyway, because no matter what she shows me, I’m going to say it’s fine. Because I don’t feel like interacting any more than necessary.
Which is also why I will accept her offer to eat the sample. Not because I actually want to, but because I know if I decline, there will be another round of interaction – something along the lines of “Are you sure?”
When he had cut the ram into its pieces, Moses offered up the head and the pieces and the suet in smoke.
This little article thingy was written by Some Guy sometime around 6:45 am and has been carefully placed in the Life category.