So the other day I was wandering around the house in my ripped up jeans when I heard a knock at the door. So I went to answer it and found an attractive blond guy standing on the porch. He was all like, hey I drive a meat van and I have a few deliveries in this area and thought I might be able to interest you in some meat products. And then I agreed because it's apparently not in my willpower to refuse an attractive guy when he wants to show me meat.
It's a weakness I have.
So then he is like I'll be right back and of course me and Scott follow him up the driveway because there is a crazy meat van in it and then he comes back with these huge boxes and I got in inkling that maybe this wasn't such a hot idea anymore and then he asks if we have a kitchen table and we say yes and then I started to wonder what kind of world he lived in where people wouldn't have kitchen tables and then we got inside and the house and he puts the boxes down.
Then he proceeds to open them up and lay boxes of prepackaged vacuum sealed meat on the table and talk how awesome consuming dead animals is. Of course each of the large boxes he has is filled with smaller boxes that are filled with steaks like some sort of fucked up Russian nesting doll made out of animal parts.
Of course it was about then when he is pressuring Scott into buying some stuff that I start to wonder if maybe he murdered a hooker or something because I have never really heard about a crazy meat van before and maybe it's filled with murder victims or Soylent Green or someshit. So I start asking questions about the animals before they were made into steaks as though I could catch him if these 'steaks' were really more like 'ex wife' or 'nameless drifter' but he was too clever for me.
Also he was attractive.
Then Scott starts haggling on the price of some pork and steaks and whatnot and then we decide if we really want meat from the crazy meat van and I'm all like what the hell, when life gives you a random meat van you might as well take advantage of it.
Of course he points out that they have chicken too and I point out that I own real live chickens which pretty much ends that discussion. So then he packs up what we didn't want and then I feel kinda weird because this probably means that the crazy meat van will be back at some point because we have fallen for it's tricksy wiles this time and I am probably going to get badgered by the crazy meat van every time they come up here.
Which is a sentence I never really thought I would type, really.
Of course the whole thing will probably work out in the end because they sell bacon. I don't know much about high class living, but I think having a van show up to your house with the explicit purpose of selling you bacon can't be a bad thing.
Just as long as it's not a crazy meat murder van.
Eh, I'll take my chances.