“How would you like your eggs cooked?” my server asked.
“Poached medium, please.” I replied.
“I’m sorry, that is the only way we do not prepare our eggs,” she said with a magnolia smile.
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Truthfully sir, I will never ask my cook to do that[poach eggs], it’s a pain in the butt.” she replied sweetly, drizzled with a bit of sternness.
“I’ll settle for scrambled,” I said reluctantly.
Really? It’s a pain in the butt. Really? Hmmm. Back in the day, we called it doing your job! Cooking for myself, in general, is a “pain in the butt,” that’s why I leave it to the professionals. You know, the people that actually get paid to “poach eggs.” Poaching eggs is not too bad when you compare it to a real pain in the butt job like this one:
Basically, most tasks are a pain in the butt, until you have mastered the task. It’s your job to master your craft, whether it’s short-order breakfast cook… or whatever that person halfway in the elephant’s butt’s job is.
Hey, I think I’m going to open up a breakfast joint, and refuse to cook everything, after all cooking is a “pain in the butt.” Today’s special is a cage- free egg dropped in your shade-grown-Costa-Rican coffee. I think I can handle that. I just need a catchy, appetizing name. HEY, seriously, I might be onto something here. An egg poached in coffee. Eggs Java, anyone?
(reviewed dining establishment’s name withheld to protect the inept)
