Yesterday, as with many days, I didn’t eat properly. This was partly because yesterday, as with many days, I realised I’d forgotten to buy any food recently, and was too lazy to take corrective measures for this fact.
Fortunately I had a carton of eggs blessed with the kind of longevity that keeps people like me from starving.
The solution to all my dietary problems was clearly a fried-egg sandwich, because a) fried egg sandwiches are the shit, and b) fried egg sandwiches are in the very short list of things I can make without fucking up too badly.
I always fuck the eggs up, but I’m pretty good with the sandwich. On balance it generally works.
But yesterday I had the Most Annoying Egg in the World.
Naturally this egg was the first one I picked from the carton of 15 eggs. What are the chances?
(Hint: one in fifteen)
I turned the gas on, made the gas go on fire, put the pan on the firey gas, and forgot to put oil in the pan.
When it was a bit hot I cracked the egg on the side of the pan, and a bit of eggshell fell into the pan.
‘Fuck,’ I said.
So I took the pan to the sink and tipped the bit of eggshell out (admittedly it took me a while, but I’ve learned not to use my fingers for this type of thing), then put the pan back on the flame.
Then I re-cracked the egg on the side of the pan, with a bit more force.
Two bits of shell fell into the pan.
‘Fuck, fuck,’ I said.
I took the pan back to the sink and tipped the bits of eggshell out, then put the pan back on the flame.
By now the egg must be sufficiently cracked to break, I thought.
So I tried to break the egg in half with my fingers.
Three bits of shell fell into the pan.
‘Fuck you, egg!’ I said.
I emptied the fragments of shell into the sink and put the pan back on the flame. I tried again.
But the egg wouldn’t fucking break. The shell was broken and disintegrating, but there was a mysterious barrier within that prevented the yolk from escaping.
Google might have known what it was, but my priority was to eat a lovely fried egg sandwich, not Google annoying egg anatomy.
I tried to pierce this mysterious film with my nail, but succeeded only in causing yet more bits of eggshell to fall into the pan.
‘Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck,’ I said, and tipped the shell into the sink.
There was virtually no shell left by this point, just a squishy wibbly sac containing the inside of an egg. So I tried to puncture it again, and more motherfucking fucking eggshell fell into the fucking pan.
So I threw the Most Annoying Egg in the World out and got another egg from the carton, and proceeded to make a fried egg sandwich without any trouble at all. I didn’t even break the yolk.
The problem was, I’d been outwitted by a fucking egg, and the sandwich tasted like it too.