‘Do you want some of the private stuff from out the back?’ said the butcher to the builder boyfriend, leaning forward over the counter and winking theatrically.
The builder b winced a little for this was starting to feel like the terrifying scene in League Of Gentlemen when Mr Briss starts selling a mysterious and highly addictive ‘special’ meat to the residents of Royston Vasey.
Thankfully, this butcher was only selling private lamb. He revealed his secret stash to the BB because he took a liking to him.
The butcher grinned, revealing big teeth between rosy cheeks, before disappearing out the back and returning with an entire side, which he butchered in front of him, offering him as much as he wanted. When he got home with the meaty chops, the BB said he had never seen anything so funny and frightening.
The butcher declared he had nothing but contempt for the spoilt shoppers who had been rude to him for decades and now came in every day complaining about the difficulties of fulfilling their posh recipes. Consequently, he filled his display cabinet with sausages, bacon and the odd chicken and kept everything else out the back. He was, apparently, only selling the private stuff to people he considered working class.
The builder b had just come off a roof, which is work he continues to do legitimately because mending holes in buildings is essential so far as anyone can make out. Dressed in his tar-spattered jeans, steel toe-capped boots and woolly hat, he must have looked precisely the sort of worker this butcher considered deserving, and so he is, I suppose. Consequently, he took him into his confidence.