Support your local butcher
It’s Saturday morning and the Coach family is in the middle of the normal helta skelta schedule (well actually I have been not doing all that much while my saint of a wife runs around like a mad woman).
One of the chores for the morning was a trip to the local butcher shop for the week’s supply of dead animal products. Being part of the cashless society the purchase was naturally completed with an electronic transaction via the credit card.
True to the adage, “haste makes waste” the credit card was hastily put away in the purse but didn’t quite make it into the appropriate slot and ended up on the butcher shop floor.
An hour later and the phone rings at home - it is the butcher. He has found the card, looked up our number in the phone book and called to report the so-far unmissed card. He indicated how worried he was knowing that my wife was flying inter-state tomorrow and the difficulties a lost card would cause.
Faith in humanity restored. A bottle of Australia’s finest red wine is on its way to the butcher shop.
“You can’t coach that”
