In case you wanted to know what Mr. P and I talk about, here’s a rough summary of a conversation we had last night…
“Is raw chicken supposed to smell like a*s?” I enquired.
“No”, he responded.
“Because I bought some chicken today and when I was re-packaging it into single portion sizes, I noticed that it smelled like…er…a*s”, I explained.
“It’s gone bad. Don’t eat it. Just take it back. Raw meat smells like…raw meat. It shouldn’t smell funky.”
“Umm…well…I’ll probably just throw it out”.
“No, take it back. They have to refund you for it. They sold you bad chicken,” responded Mr. P.
“Right. I just don’t think I’ll have time and I already put it in the freezer…umm and I just don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“They sold you bad meat and took your money. You probably shouldn’t buy your meat from there anymore.”
“Okay, I’ll try to bring it back tomorrow.” Mr. P gives me a look of doubt and disappointment.
“It felt funky too…not smooth and slimy, more like sticky and gooey.”
…This “funky chicken” conversation continued for about five more minutes until I finally promised to take the chicken back.
I took the chicken out of the freezer today and will be taking it back to B-L after work.
Just what a passive aggressive person loves to do.
Stupid funky chicken.