Butcher, baker, candlestick maker

My local grocery store has butchers.  Because of this, they provide the service of customized meat packaging.  This is great for me since many of the premade packages are designed for large families.  And I really prefer it if I don’t have to freeze my meat just because I have to buy 5 pounds of something.  There I was the other day, asking for a small steak, 2 chicken legs, 1 chicken breast (skinless, boneless of course) and a thick, boneless pork chop.  A fairly typical weekly order.  As I was waiting, a friend spotted me.  She and I talked for a minute or two.  Then the butcher handed me my packages.  She kinda freaked out on me.  How dare I waste the guy’s time like that.  Uhm, it’s his job.  Half the time when I’m in this store, I see him and the other butchers standing around laughing.  It doesn’t seem to me like their job is overly taxing.  Let’s face it, is it so hard to put a few pieces of meat on a Styrofoam tray, wrap it and then either put it in the display case or hand it to a customer?  If they didn’t want me asking for small orders, then don’t have the option of customizing your meat order.  Not like I said any of this to my friend, who was now the meat police for some reason.  Nor did I mention one of the main reasons I shop at this particular store is because of this service.  They are often out of items.  They have a seemingly random sizing policy when it comes to the basics like milk, butter and eggs – one day all milk is in gallons, another it’s only in quarts, etc.  Plus, they never seem to have items I find essential to life – you know like decadent dark chocolate.  You take away the butchers and what’ve you got?  Not much.  Okay, okay, I know my tiny little weekly orders don’t add up to much in the grand scheme of this store making a profit.  But hey, doesn’t every customer count for something?  It could be worse.  I could go in there each and every day and order one of something and not once a week.  How annoying would that be?  Let’s see, today I’ll have one chicken leg.  Or one sausage patty.  Or 1/8 of a pound of burger.  No, there’s nothing wrong with me asking someone to do their job.  So for future reference, don’t get mad at me when I do.