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idiotprufs

Read by four out of five drunken monkeys, written by the fifth.

Archive for the day “June 9, 2017”

Just the Eggs Ma’am

broken egg shellPurchasing two dozen eggs at the supermarket is something that ought to be quick and simple.

Unfortunately I had forgotten who I am–nothing can be quick and simple.

Cashier: Did you check the eggs to make sure they’re not broken?

Me: Yes I did.

Cashier: You have to check them individually.

Me: I already…(I look up from my wallet to find her individually checking every egg.)…did that.

Cashier: Men never check the eggs.

Me: I don’t necessarily think that’s true.

Cashier: Yes it is. (She moves on to the second dozen.) What are you going to do with these eggs?

Me: Well, I saw police car in front of the store and thought it would be cool to get my name in the paper.

Cashier: (stops checking the eggs and stares at me with suspicion.) I can’t sell these eggs to you if you’re going to throw them at a police car.

Me: That was just a joke.

Cashier: So what are going to do with them?

Me: Just normal egg things.

Cashier: Such as?

Me (irritated): I thought I’d put them all in a big glass and drink them raw like Rocky.

Cashier: Who’s Rocky.

Me: Rocky Balboa.

Cashier: I don’t know him.

Me: From the movie Rocky.

Cashier: Never saw it.

Me: Really, because it’s a pretty famous movie.

Cashier: Let me talk to my manager. (She disappears into the office.)

Me (Under my breath): I’ll bet your manager’s seen Rocky.

I now notice the growing line behind me and realize that I am  “that idiot” who screwed up the express lane.

Small child behind me in line: Guess what?

Me: What?

Small child: Eggs come from a chicken’s pooper.

Me: You have an amazing grasp of chicken physiology.

Small child: I know.

Me: It’s your turn to guess what.

Small Child: What?

Me: Chicken butt.

Small Child: (Laughs hysterically and starts repeating chicken butt over and over.)

Child’s Mother: (Glares at me.)

Me: What? You prefer pooper to chicken butt?

Several moments of awkward silence ensued (apart from the small child joyfully repeating the phrase chicken butt) followed by the manager emerging from the office to look me over. The manager studied me for a moment and returned to the office for several more awkward silent moments before the cashier returned.

Cashier: The manager says I can sell you the eggs.

Me: Fantastic.

I paid for the eggs, left the store, and egged the cashier’s car.

I didn’t really do that…don’t tell the police.

 

rocky drinking eggs

Just normal egg things.

 

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