Club Member

Club Member

by

storyteller

“Ah, that,” I said, pointing. Both cuts were cheap, so I chose the one with the most red.

The butcher, a portly man with a thin moustache and wearing a crisp, white apron, looked at my choice. “Cheapest cut,” he muttered.

I pretended to study the higher priced offerings in the meat case, but my budget controlled my purchases.

He leaned an elbow against the counter and gazed around as if seeing someone behind me, though no one else was in this room. “You're a new member, so I'll tell you this: you get exactly what you pay for. And that cut will be tough and chewy.”

“I use a slow-cooker,” I told him. "It lets you use the cheaper cuts.”

“We’re supposed to be connoisseurs of meat,” he said. "That means we know and buy the very best ... real meat."

“Connoisseurs have to eat every day, too. And being a connoisseur doesn’t mean that you are wealthy.”

“Then maybe you should have chosen a different club to join. Meat like this isn't available to the massess and won’t ever be cheap.”

Though we both knew that he was stating the obvious, I had acquired the taste for real meat – and once acquired, it’s impossible to overcome. I was an approved, card-carrying member of the Real Meat Eaters Club and didn’t have to eat the synthetic junk like the rest o the world. Luckily, a couple of meals per week satisfied my current craving. My choices, however, seemed to cause disdain fro the butcher, but work and wages being what they are, I had to stretch my budget to its limit. “Three pounds.”

The portly man rolled his eyes, “Look, the really good cut is over there. Soft, tender and with plenty of fat. This, I don’t know what you’re getting, see. My supplier doesn’t give me an explanation. I just sell it. Could be real old, or tough from exercising. Or, maybe diseased in some way. The government doesn’t inspect any of this, you know.” His stubby finger pointed at the opposite end of the long white meat case. “That’s guaranteed fresh. Cut him up myself. Genuine beer-drinking couch-potato. Won’t be anything but sweet melt-in-your-mouth eating. Worth every dollar.”

I pointed at my choice again. “Three pounds.”

“Members like you will give the new cannibalism a bad reputation,” he snorted.

“Members like you will give the businessmen a bad reputation," I said. “You don’t exactly deal with the highest class of people either in or out of the meat case.”

END

450 words



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