Yolks and Palm Trees: A Christmas Eggcident

Lucas Farmer




Yolks and Palm Trees:

A Christmas Eggcident


I didn’t know how lucky I was by getting fresh food almost every single day of my life until I opened that egg. The smell was as bad as a backed-up sewage treatment plant. The yellow tinged goo looked like unhardened Pineapple Jell-O that had been on the counter for months which exploded when I tried to add it into my signature breakfast dish, Shakshuka. Shakshuka is a Greek dish where you simmer tomato sauce, baby greens, spices, and other ingredients (they are part of my secret recipe so I can not tell you) and then you poach the eggs into the sauce.


Three days earlier, I was arriving in Grenada on Delta Airlines, Leaving Christmas eve  and because of that my family celebrated Christmas on Christmas eve. Some of my cousins had arrived an hour earlier on another flight, and they had gone to the villa first. Our villa had arranged to get a taxi for us from the airport to the grocery store, then to our villa. We were clueless that the taxi driver we had was the most popular driver on the island. Calling himself “Yellow Man”, he was fully outfitted in  a matching neon yellow shirt, pants, hat and shoes that made him not fit in at any location.

Except his taxi.

His taxi was a subwoofer, many speakers, all with no volume dial, just on or off, and flashing lights that blinded everyone in the vicinity. Included with all of this was a white Mercedes Sprinter van with yellow accent colors.

As we rolled down the street, almost every single man, woman, and child waved and exclaimed “EYY, YELLOW MAN!” like he was the president of Grenada.

By the time we got to the grocery store, our ears had been to World War 3, and had been deafened by the reggae gunshots of a Grenadian radio.

The supermarket looked like hurricane Irma was going to hit the island. The shelves were almost bare. There was no fresh food in sight. All we could scrape off the shelves were some chips, salsa, and some drink mix.

Once we had got to our villa via baseline highway in the loud lane, we found our cousins in the picture perfect pool, (actually, when we were leaving we saw our villa’s pool in the airport on a Remax sign) snacking on some snacks our villa had provided for us.

That night, I slept peacefully, mostly because I didn’t need socks on to keep my feet warm. I hate wearing socks. The only problem I had that night was the lamppost outside pounding light inside of my room.

I could not sleep.

At all.

So, as I stumbled into the kitchen, I noticed how unorganized the drinks fridge was. After about 20 minutes, the shelf looked looked like it was from Shop-Rite. Being proud in my work, I remembered my main objective. Turn off that light. And as I realized after flipping enough switches to launch the space shuttle, I finally came to the conclusion it was on a timer. I got discouraged and then started heading back to my room, but then I sighted the bags from the supermarket. I grabbed a handful, headed outside into the tropical shower outside, and threw them over the lamp. I then headed into my little room and fell to sleep.

The next day, we went to a quaint little beach and built a sandman, because being 17॰ from the equator means no snow. All the stores were closed because of a british holiday, Boxing Day, but because this is a island, it means beaches are always open. After a great day of relaxing and sunburns, it was time to go to bed.

The next afternoon, after we had spent another day lazily lying on the beach, we decided to go to the supermarket to maybe buy some supplies to keep us from running out of Pop-tarts to eat for breakfast. We bought some eggs, and other assorted food items.

On wednesday morning, I woke up early to make breakfast for everyone. I had not made this dish in months, so I forgot to crack the eggs into a bowl before putting them into the pan. As I cracked one of the eggs over the pan, even before I could make room for it in the pan, the egg exploded into a watery disaster, ruining one of my 2 pans of food. If I served that pan, even any part of it, someone could have gotten really sick.

The rest of the vacation zoomed by, while the kitchen stank of rotten eggs and papayas. I avoided the kitchen for the rest of the trip, because the smell made me want to vomit.

The End.


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