Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a butcher in Fulham ain’t for the faint-hearted. Woke up this mornin’ feelin’ like a champ, ready to tackle the day. But boy, was I in for a ride.
First off, I’m rollin’ down Fulham Road, right? The sun’s shinin’, birds are chirpin’, and I’m thinkin’, “Today’s gonna be a good one.” Ha! Little did I know. I get to the shop, and it’s like a scene from a horror flick. The fridge is on the fritz! Meat everywhere, and I’m like, “No way, not today!”
So, I’m sweatin’ bullets, tryin’ to salvage what I can. I’m tossin’ steaks around like I’m in some kinda meat Olympics. You ever try to save a rack of lamb while keepin’ your cool? It’s a nightmare! And then, just as I’m about to lose it, in walks Mrs. Jenkins from down the street. She’s a regular, bless her heart.
“Oi, love! Got any of that fancy bacon?” she asks. I’m like, “Fancy bacon? Lady, I’m about to lose my mind here!” But I can’t say that, right? So I just nod and point to the last pack. She grabs it, and I swear, she’s got this look like she just won the lottery.
Then, outta nowhere, my mate Dave pops in. He’s always got some wild story. “You won’t believe it, mate! I saw a fox on Fulham Palace Road!” I’m like, “A fox? In the city?” He’s goin’ on about how it was strutting like it owned the place. I can’t help but laugh. Only in Fulham, right?
But then, the real kicker hits. I’m slicin’ up some sausages when I hear this commotion outside. I peek out, and there’s a whole crowd gathered. Turns out, some bloke’s tryin’ to sell his “art” on the street. I mean, it’s just splatters of paint on a canvas. People are actually buyin’ it! I’m thinkin’, “What’s wrong with these folks?” But hey, if they’re happy, who am I to judge?
By now, I’m feelin’ a mix of anger and amusement. I mean, I’m bustin’ my chops over here, and this guy’s makin’ a fortune off some paint splatters. Life’s unfair, innit?
As the day rolls on, I get a rush of customers. Young families, old folks, even a couple of hipsters from the new café on the corner of Lillie Road. They’re all after my finest cuts. I’m feelin’ like a rockstar, but then I remember the fridge. Ugh!
Finally, I manage to get through the day. I’m knackered, but there’s a sense of satisfaction. I close up shop, and as I’m lockin’ the door, I see the sunset over the Thames. It’s beautiful, really. Makes all the chaos worth it.
I stroll down to the pub on Fulham High Street. A pint’s callin’ my name. I sit down, and the bartender, a right good bloke, pours me a cold one. “You look like you’ve had a day,” he says. I just chuckle. “You have no idea, mate.”
So, there I am, sippin’ my pint, thinkin’ about the day. Fulham’s a mad place, full of surprises. And even when it drives me up the wall, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Here’s to another day in the life of a butcher! Cheers!