I found this post in my "drafts" and got a good chuckle out of it, thought it was both informative, tragic and hilarious all at once. So of coarse I have to share it....sit back and enjoy.
NEVER ever NEVER trust a travelling meat salesman. That is the lesson of the day. For those of you who know me, you know this story, and for those of you who don't, sit back and take notes folks, this is an episode of
Frozen Meat Truckers: Exposed To this day, the abundance of frozen meat sitting in my freazer haunts me.
It started innocently enough, last October/November. We had just bought our new home, and were expecting company over any minute, when the doorbell rings. I sent my husband down, expecting it to be our friends, but instead he shows a stranger into our home, with brochures and boxes of frozen meat.
Are you kidding me? you ask... and to that I say, unfortunately, no, this is all true and uncensored. So this gentleman,
and I use this term loosely, is trying to give us this once in a lifetime amazing frozen truck meat deal, as I am impatiently wanting him and his frozen meat in a box OUT of my house because we're expecting company and I don't have time for this nonsense. But instead, my husband was dazzled perhaps by the meat, or perhaps by this man's charm. To this day, I'm not sure which got him sold on this truck meat. I tell him no, it's not a good idea, and remind him we have company coming. He brushes me off while he looks dreamily at the mystery cuts of mystery meat laying in it's
coffin box. I am beyond irritated at this point. Not just at the complete and utter nonsense of it all, but that this guy showed up at our doorstep to dazzle my husband right at dinner time. That's just low. And my husband loves meat, much more so than I. I will eat a good burger, or a good steak from time to time, but my fancy is chicken. But do you see me buying chicken from a truck? Heck no! Something about a guy in a beat up pick up truck that
says the back is a freezer and that these are all "aged" to perfection....something just doesn't seem right about this. But my husband was quite taken and it was obvious we were NOT getting rid of this guy until my husband had his truck meat in hand. So he bought it, and the guy was happy to go. Fast forward a week. I decide to try the truck meat, so I thaw out two mystery steaks, and cook them up with some tasty sides. We sit down to dinner and everyone is chewing...and chewing...and chewing....this steak was so tough one bite'll do ya for hours. It was like meat flavored chewing gum. The hard stale kind though. MMMMMMM tasty. Then I thought perhaps it was MY cooking? Maybe I didn't cook it quite right. So I tried again a few days later, only this time I wanted to marinate the steaks first. But to my dismany, the steaks turned gray upon being exposed to air. Hmmm. Well go figure. Who woulda thought truck meat could be this fickle? So I tried yet again, and once again, not even 24 hours after I had put it in the fridge from the freezer, it turned gray. So I decided to get out my handy brochure that the meat trucker left with me. Oh looky there! A handy 1-800 number to call! And that I did, but the answering machine came on and didn't sound very professional for an "aged frozen meat" business. I left a message anyway, and no one returned my call. Shocker. So I left another....and a week or two later, still another. Then as my last resort, I turned them into the better business bureau, but to no avail, because they wouldn't respond to them either. So now, here we are 8 months later, and every time I go to the store and have to come home and cram and jam things into the freezer, I am faced with great aggravation at all this meat that sits in my freezer that we will never use but for some reason I have not been able to force myself to throw it away. To me, it's like throwing money in the trash. Let my unfortunate meat mishap be a lesson to you all. Never, ever, never ever never trust a frozen meat salesman driving a beat up Ford pick up with an Igloo cooler thrown in the back!! If you see this man, if God forbid he shows up on YOUR doorstep, just to mess with him, go ahead and invite him in, then play along just long enough to make him believe he's going to make yet another mystery meat sale. Then tell him he's been EXPOSED and he's on a Dateline exclusive (or you can subsitute any number of other primetime hidden camera shows), and watch how fast him and his meat mobile make a fast getaway (probably while peeing his pants). SNORT!
It started innocently enough, last October/November. We had just bought our new home, and were expecting company over any minute, when the doorbell rings. I sent my husband down, expecting it to be our friends, but instead he shows a stranger into our home, with brochures and boxes of frozen meat. Are you kidding me? you ask... and to that I say, unfortunately, no, this is all true and uncensored. So this gentleman,
and I use this term loosely, is trying to give us this once in a lifetime amazing frozen truck meat deal, as I am impatiently wanting him and his frozen meat in a box OUT of my house because we're expecting company and I don't have time for this nonsense. But instead, my husband was dazzled perhaps by the meat, or perhaps by this man's charm. To this day, I'm not sure which got him sold on this truck meat. I tell him no, it's not a good idea, and remind him we have company coming. He brushes me off while he looks dreamily at the mystery cuts of mystery meat laying in it's 