Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred

Off The Wall Essays From Deep Within A Capricious Mind

The Paranoid Pork Seller

“Contentment is an achievable Holy Grail, Gary……. Disenchantment, though, can only be consequential from bearing aspirations of eternal serenity. They’re the notions of fatuousness that’ll lead to inevitable disappointment, corrosion of spirit, manifestations of discontentment and taint the soul. Take heed that the pragmatist ordinarily prevails over the dreamer”

The wise words offered yesterday by my local butcher Frank. Locutions and guidance I appreciated, although I’m unsure why he felt the need to bestow them as they came in response to my enquiry “Can I have a 3lb joint of silverside beef for Easter Sunday’s dinner please?”

Actually, for historical accuracy, his full response was:-

“Contentment is an achievable Holy Grail, Gary……. Disenchantment, though, can only be consequential from bearing aspirations of eternal serenity. They’re the notions of fatuousness that’ll lead to inevitable disappointment, corrosion of spirit, manifestations of discontentment and taint the soul. Take heed that the pragmatist ordinarily prevails over the dreamer”….. Bloody hell, have you seen the cleavage on that lass who just walked past?! Her boobs looked like an iPod docking station!”

With my back to his shop window I wasn’t able to confirm the accuracy of the misogynistic butcher’s observation. Consequently, I shook my head in disaffirmation and proceeded to inform the eloquent, but occasionally unenlightened, meat trader of my plans for Easter Sunday.

“I’ve got my son Jonny, his fiancee Jenny, daughter Rachel, my mum, Karen and me to feed.” I explained; attempting to clarify the requirement for a significantly larger joint than I’d normally order.

“What are you cooking for this family feast?” the cheery Frank enquired.

“Errrrrm….. Well, silverside beef!” I explained, puzzled at his need to ask the question only moments after I’d asked for a 3lb silverside beef joint.

“Good choice….. I love that cut for my Sunday roast dinner! My wife has a fantastic recipe which ne’er fails to stimulate my taste buds.” the rotund butcher chirped with a touch of the melodramatic.

“What’s her secret?” I asked with a view of acquiring a tip to enhance the flavours of my own culinary creation on Sunday.

“I’ve no idea what my wife’s secret is!….. If I did it wouldn’t be a secret, would it!” Frank blustered sensitively after taking my enquiry a little too literally.

“No, I mean what’s the secret ingredient/technique your wife uses during her silverside cooking process?!” I sought to clarify.

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Sadly, though, I’d opened a can of worms. This a catalyst for the conversation topic to err from my plans for Sunday dinner to the butcher’s personal life.

“Come on then. Lets be hearing it!” Frank addressed me quite confrontationally.

“Sorry?…. Hearing what?” I responded, unsure where this conversation was starting to meander.

“What have you heard about my wife and her secrets?!!” the butchers aggressively demanded.

“I don’t even know your wife, never mind her veiled escapades.” I responded tersely.

“What do you mean veiled escapades?…. I demand you tell me what you’ve heard about my spouse!!” Frank blustered further. The half dozen or so other customers in the adjacent queue starting to look uncomfortable at the unfolding scene.

“What are you talking about, Frank?!…. I don’t even know who your wife is!” my irritable retort.

“Are you the one ringing her when I’m at work?…… Does your phone number end ‘473’?….. It’s you isn’t it. You’re the one she’s cheating on me with!!!” Frank bafflingly blasted at me.

“Don’t be an idiot, I don’t even know who she is!….. Anyhow, my mobile number doesn’t end with 473!” I fumed back.

“Well if you don’t know her, how come you knew she was called Gloria?” came another ludicrous enquiry from the porky seller of pork.

“I didn’t know she was called Gloria!….. I’d no idea of her name until you mentioned it a few seconds ago!” I blurted, bemused and getting ever more frustrated at how idiotically this interaction had proceeded.

Now conscious of his other customers discomfort and prurient eavesdropping, Frank lowered his voice and in more hushed conciliatory tones philosophically re-iterated:-

“Contentment is an achievable Holy Grail, Gary……. Disenchantment, though, can only be consequential from bearing aspirations of eternal serenity. They’re the notions of fatuousness that’ll lead to inevitable disappointment, corrosion of spirit, manifestations of discontentment and taint the soul. Take heed that the pragmatist ordinarily prevails over the dreamer….. Now get the f*** out of my shop!!!”

Walking from the store, at the door I turned and, as Frank busily served the next customer, shouted “I forgot to say, Frank….. Tell Gloria I’ll drop off her Stevie Wonder cd at around 11:00 tomorrow morning!!”

Categories: Blogs, fiction, humour, parody

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