A Whole Lotta Baloney

A few days ago I went to the deli to buy some meat. Here is the conversation that ensued between me and the lady behind the counter:

Me: "I'd like to get a pound of this Italian turkey, please."

Her: "Which one?"

Me: "This Italian turkey right here. One pound. Please slice it thin."

She rummaged around behind the counter for a good five minutes. Finally she asked, "Do you see a package that I can slice?" Since I wasn't with her behind the counter, I couldn't really see anything. I said, "I guess you could slice the package that I see right here, couldn't you?"

Her: "Which package?"

Me: "The Italian turkey. (pointing) Right there."

Her: (pointing to the one next to it) "This one?"

Me: "No, that one right there."

Her: "This one?"

Me: "Yes. That one."

Her: "How much do you want?"

Me: "One pound, please."

Her: (taking it out of the case) "How do you want it sliced?"

Me: "Thin."

She spent the next five minutes unwrapping the turkey and trying to find the right price for it, which was clearly marked on the outside counter.

Me: "I believe it says $8.99 a pound right here."

Her: (to another co-worker). "Do you know the price for this? And the code?"

She put the turkey on the slicer. Then she turned around and said,

"How much do you want?"

Me: "One. Pound."

Her: "How do you want this sliced?"

Me: "I'm coming back there and slicing the dang thing myself. Get out of my way."

No, what I really said was,

"Thin."

She sliced the meat and placed it on the scales.

Her: "You wanted a pound and a half, right?"

Me: "One. One. Pound."

Her: "It's a little over one pound. Is that ok?"

Me: "Yes. In the name of all that's good and holy in this world, yes."

Her: "Anything else for you today?"

And, believe it or not, I actually ordered a half pound of provolone.