The supermarket had a sale on boneless chicken breasts. I intended to stock up. At the store, however, I was disappointed to find only a few skimpy prepackaged portions of the poultry, so I complained to the butcher lady.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll pack some more trays and have them ready for you by the time you finish shopping.”
Several aisles later, I heard the lady butcher’s voice boom over the public-address system: “Will the gentleman who wanted bigger breasts please meet me at the back of the store.”
