We ordered these fabulous steaks from a butcher in my mom
and dad’s hometown. We first bought one when we stayed with my aunt and uncle
and had told them we would bring dinner. The steak was so good that we had the
butcher ship some to Primo this winter.
But they are not cheap and Primo had to pay to have them
shipped, so we are being very careful with them. We save them for company
meals. Primo prepares steak well. Not one single person has had Primo’s steak
without complimenting the steak and Primo’s preparation thereof. Not one.
Primo: I want to take a steak with me.
Me: No. They are not worthy. If your dad would meet the
butcher, he would exude disdain immediately. Mr. P didn't go to college. You
know what your dad thinks about people who didn't go to college. They are
subhuman.
Primo: They'll really like it.
Me: No they won't. Their taste buds are shot from drinking
and smoking. They eat bad cheese, remember?
Primo: They don’t smoke anymore. Besides, it would be nice
for me to have a decent steak while I'm there. I have to be there without you,
which is nice for you but stinks for me I would like to have a decent meal. You
know they never have anything good to eat.
He is right. I feel sorry for him because he is going for an
entire week and will be miserable the entire time. And – this is the big gun he
did not bring out – he did pay for them.
But Sly and Doris do not deserve that steak.
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