Egginabag

For the commuter on the go!
I was standing on the platform one morning waiting for the 7:35 when I ran into my buddy Tripp (Tripp, by the way, is the perfect name for a buddy. Who doesn't like a guy named Tripp?). I noticed that Tripp was eating a hardboiled egg while he waited for the train. I was puzzled by this. Did Tripp actually boil an egg this morning, and then rather than eat it at home, he'd carefully packed it in a ziplock and carried it to the train, only to eat it on the platform? Did he prefer dining al fresco? So I asked him. "Did you bring enough of those for the whole class?".

Turns out he just had the one, and it also turns out that he did not make it himself, but rather he bought it at the train station coffee shop. The woman who runs the shop sells them for 50 cents a piece. Genius.

So the next day, along with my french roast, I got myself an egginabag. The woman who runs the shop told me that there were a steady and slowly growing group of commuters who were buying the eggs. She keeps a set of squeeze handle salt and pepper shakers next to the basket of eggs so that we may season to taste. De-lish.

She also informed me that she keeps the low fat milk under the counter in the mini fridge rather than on display with the regular milk and the half and half. Just not enough room for all three milk products on the counter so the low fat got the short shrift. Whaddyaknow. So now I love walking in to the shop like a pro, pouring my regular cup and reaching for the mini fridge milk, like I just woke up and came down for breakfast. And every once in a while (not everyday cuz of the cholesterol my doctor tells me), I loves grabbing me an egginabag.