Friday, August 27, 2010

Eggs and all of my false hopes

You know that Mitch Hedberg joke about cinnamon roll incense? Well one of my co-workers has achieved it! Except this raggedy chump uses cinnamon raisin toast scents to mess with me. He has this air-freshener-wax-melter device that smells precisely like hot, buttered cinnamon raisin toast and never fails to make my mouth water for some every time I walk past his office. My nose deceives me every single time and my senses are thrown into tailspin.

My nose: “Cinnamon Raisin Toooooooooooooooast!”
My brain: “No, no! It’s that one air freshener, remember? How many times must we have to go through this?”
My stomach: “Stop messing with me! I can’t take much more of this!”

I wanted to make some cinnamon raisin toast, so I went to the store to buy eggs. I carefully opened several cartons and scrupulously examined each egg until I found a carton with the perfect dozen. I have broken many an egg accidentally by setting the milk or another heavy grocery item atop them, so with my raisin toast in mind I carefully set the carton of eggs in the baby seat of grocery cart.

I paid for my groceries but knew I was not out of the woods yet and I was still in the egg danger zone. I’ve broken lots more eggs by recklessly placing them in my trunk with the other groceries, and when I take a turn too fast the eggs become a trunk omelet and turn my trunk and other groceries into a yolky mess.

This time I carefully placed the eggs on the roof of my car while I loaded all of the other groceries into the trunk. I had every intention of moving the eggs from the roof into the passenger seat and buckling them up for safety, but I totally forgot and drove off. I don’t know what became of my eggs as I did not realize this until I was halfway home, but I assume the eggs promptly fell off the roof and splattered all over the highway somewhere.

So I guess the smell of cinnamon raisin toast is as close as I will get for now.