Just the Eggs Ma’am
Purchasing 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.
Just normal egg things.
idiotpruf 
Ooh, I just realized we shop at the same store! Do they also continue to put the bananas on the bottom of the bag, even as you’re pleading with them to put them on top? And then argue that they’ll be fine, because they’re actually on the side of the bag, like that’s a thing?
I recognized their work because of the time I warned them to be careful of my eggs because it was the last carton of certified humane eggs they had out and they were fine but the lid was torn off. She picked the carton up by the top to check them and the whole thing went SPLAT. Then she blinked at me and asked if I’d like to go get another carton.
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I like to scramble my eggs at the store also.
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Hiya Rocky,
I’m sending some sunshine your way, to let you know how much I appreciate your blog by nominating you for The Sunshine Award! No worries if you don’t want to participate!
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Congratulations on the award, and thank you for the nomination. All my raw egg drinking has finally come to fruition.
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You’re welcome! 🙂
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I’ve never had a cashier check my eggs. You should have egged the cashier! That ought to get you in the paper.
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The thought crossed my mind.
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If Rocky poached his eggs he wouldn’t be badass.
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Why do the eggs have to be raw? I’ve always wondered. …. .
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Wonderful! Truth is so much stranger than fiction.
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Aren’t people great?
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A really witty egg yolk.
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Eggs-actly.
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I am obviously going to the wrong store. Just the other day I found a hairline crack in one of my organic eggs. They don’t come cheap, ya know.
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Believe me, you are not going to the wrong store.
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Y’know what? I wouldn’t trust you either if you told me you were going to do ‘just normal egg things’ with two dozen eggs. Just saying…
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Would you trust me more if I had said, abnormal egg things?
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No, but I’d probably pay to watch… from a distance.
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Let’s just forget that I brought it up.
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Please tell me this is a joke. What business is it of hers why you’re buying eggs? Talk about avian profiling…
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This is a really weird town, full of really weird people.
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Sounds like it. As if they’re straight out of a Stephen King novel.
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A cross between Stephen King and Garrison Keillor. A little more King than Keillor.
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It’s a shame you didn’t have spray paint, duck tape, zip ties, rubber gloves and a bottle of Jack. I hold the line up with those every time… which right now is only about once every six months or so.
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I think I was in line behind you once.
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Wow. What a dumb bitch.
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Maybe she was just being conscientious.
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You’re too kind.
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It’s my curse.
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Mine, too, at times.
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That’s a bit harsh. …..
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Perhaps so, but that’s ridiculous. If anyone told me to wait while they checked with their manager to see if they were allowed to sell me eggs I think that’d be the last time I shopped there.
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That I completely agree with
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Lol! This is hilarous! I love that you’re the kind of person who can raise suspicion over buying eggs! And my daughter and I do guess what chicken butt to each other all the time – check out mom needs to relax! 😉
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We all need to be good at something.
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This is hilarious. The cashiers will check your eggs even if you say you already did it! Yep, they do this. I have seen Rocky! Great movie! Classic scene with the eggs, too.
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I don’t know if it’s considerate or condescending.
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I think it’s habit and probably required of them, too. Like those who work in fast food and ask if you want some new item on their menu…no, I don’t!
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Bwahahahaha @ “I just wanted to get my name in the paper.”
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Getting your name in the paper is overrated.
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