I was at the butcher’s the other day with a friend. It’s a thriving family business frequented by many in the area. They supply restaurants, hotels and groceries with their meats. They also allow the public to purchase from their store.
Nothing against them but it’s not a place I really enjoy.
There’s always that smell of fresh meat and blood permeating the rooms. Even if it’s not a strong odor it’s still there.
It’s not a bad place. I’m aware someone has to do the job. It supports families. Provides an honest living. Allows customers nice pieces of meat. All good things.
And while I might not be the biggest fan of these types of shops I am also totally (and strangely) fascinated by the place.
They are currently renovating so I was watching an older Chinese lady working behind a new glass enclosure. She was at the machine cutting the meat. I almost have my nose pressed up against the glass. I can’t look away. Like a kid at a candy store. Except not.
Her fingers are going a mile a minute, shifting meat slices and adding more. I’m sort of nervous. I keep thinking, “Whoa, that one was close!” and “Whew!” and “Uh oh, that was a near miss!”
I am not sure what I would have done had it been a hit!
She already has a couple of digits missing. I’ve noticed this in the past but for some reason it always seems brand new to me. Like deja vu all over again. I always mention it.
When I said it (again) to my friend she said, “Not only that but she had to have her legs broken and reset. Totally bowed from years of standing on her feet working away.”
I exclaim in horror, “Oh, geez!”
We don’t always see or realize the hazards of some occupations. Or the lack of safety measures in place.
Consider yourself lucky if your job is safe and comfortable.
Just Being Mary 