His Eggs Are Thoroughly Scrambled

I swing by the corner store for some eggs. The first, second, and third cartons are out of date. I manage to find one box that expires tomorrow. Luckily, I will use them up by then.

I pass a worker on his phone as I go to the till. He’s got an open box to stack the shelf but seems to be daydreaming.

Me: “Err, all of the other eggs are out of date.”

Staff: “Oh, you want me to throw these away?”

Me: “No, these are in date. The others are out of date.”

Staff: “Oh, okay.”

Me: “You might want to get rid of them before someone buys them.”

Staff: “Oh, yeah, good idea.”

He starts giggling. He doesn’t seem sarcastic, just out of it. I don’t know what else to do, so I go to the till.

Me: “Oh, and all the rest of the eggs are out of date.”

Cashier: “Really? Okay, thanks for letting us know.”

Me: “I did tell your colleague, but he seemed… busy.”

He rings me up and radios his colleague.

Me: “Unless that walkie-talkie reaches other planets, I don’t think you’re going to have much luck.”

He shook his head and tried anyway, getting more annoyed as he repeated himself. I passed the aisle again where the worker from earlier was still yet to negotiate a single item back onto the shelf, blissfully unaware of what that angry noise was.

I’m not sure what attracts them there, but every other new starter seems to last a few weeks and is never quite on the same planet as anyone else.