Rotten Eggs

posted on december 28, 2002, tag: random

Last night, at the infamous Broadway Diner in the infamous Summit, New Jersey, I ordered three scrambled eggs, "home fries" (also called hash browns when not in a diner), a side of bacon and a coffee. After heavily creaming and sugaring my bitter coffee and eating a few pieces of bacon, I took to eating my browns and eggs.

The potatoes were fine, a bit undercooked in some places, but livable. The eggs, however, were another story. They tasted of orange cleaner, then of just cleaner cleaner. I called our barely-speaking-English waiter over and told him the eggs were inedible.

He told me they were, in fact, perfectly fine: "I see him make them. They good." Well, I exclaimed, whatever you say, but I'm not eating them. After a few minutes of arguing, he finally said, "Okay, you want more? I replace them." I was hesitant but accepted.

Two minutes later I was brought a new plate with new eggs and more undercooked home fries. I cut a small piece of egg with the side of my fork and placed it into my mouth. Immediately I tasted oysters. After a tough swallow I told Katia to try them, but before she could she smelled them and refused. I again asked our waiter to come over.

This time he was noticeably annoyed that I did not enjoy the Broadway Diner's rotten eggs. He argued openly, telling me they were, "Just eggs!" and "I not lie to you... I tell the truth. The tuna, maybe that I say is no good. But eggs are fresh." Disgusted, I told him he could say whatever he wanted, and I would pay for the shitty eggs, but I wasn't eating the fuckers. He gave up the argument and walked away.

He did not get a tip.

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