“This is going to look great on someone’s car!”

It’s official: I’m famous… enough to be hated! I don’t know if it’s because I have talked sh about some people on this blog, because I drink fancy water, or because I’m just not cool, but somewhere on this big blue marble we call Earth, I have enemies. Enemies who have made their presence known.

As usual, I was running late to work this morning. I had had pancakes and sausage for breakfast but little did I know, the second course would be served all over my windshield in the form of raw eggs. Not only were they splattered all over the glass, the yolks had congealed into a gelatinous mass. No wonder there was a bird sitting on my car when I got outside, he was at a fine dining establishment with air-chilled yolks served on my main mode of transportation, very pricey and rare in this economy. Before I did anything else, I tried to see if there were some sort of divine image to be found in this amalgamation of baby-chicken-jello; maybe this was my sign from God, Buddha, Mohammed etc. that work was to take a backseat today and that I should, instead, reflect inward and examine my life as a new year dawns. But not even a swaddled Baby Jesus was to be found.

One positive aspect of this incident is that these eggers had the human decency to concentrate on the glass parts of my car. There are rips in the canvas top definitely big enough to fit eggs through, but like I said, these were good, decent people who chose not to egg the inside of my car. (You da best!)

Now, this could have been a completely random event that had no bearing on my identity or associations but it makes me feel special to think otherwise. I like to imagine that somebody took the time out of his or her busy day and carefully chose to arrange egg yolks on my windshield as a post-modern art installation evoking Jackson Pollock. These egg-throwers were obviously very well-read and knew I appreciate art, especially as a protest medium against offensive things (such as this blog). If I had to grade the piece, I would give it a 7.54/10.00, mostly for Creative Use of Medium and Materials.

Full Fathom Five by Jackson Pollock aka, He Who Splatters.

In fact, I don’t know if it’s haters any more at all, the more I think about it. Maybe these eggers just didn’t know how to express themselves and chose egg yolks on my windshield to proclaim their love and loyalty. Thank you, haters, I love you too.

Oh, and thanks, Dad, for cleaning it off. You also da best!

Do you think in the olden days they used to egg horses? I should ask my father.

- Daughter