So two friends (call them “I” and “B”) and I were walking to one of their workplaces (we were hanging out watching a movie and he (“B”) got called in to deal with an emergency at about 11:30pm on a saturday night). Out of the blue some [CENSORED] thew an egg at me. Now I’m a boney, skinny thing and one would think that a egg hurled that hard would have made a huge mess (necessitating me going home) but I was lucky and except for a temporary sting and the shock, no harm done. The egg broke on the sidewalk, not me. I replied with a hearty “Oh, [BLEEP] off!”, and the [CENSORED] cackled with laughter and peeled off around the corner. To clarify, the [CENSORED] was the passenger in a car. The female part of our group, we’ll call her “I”, (on rollerblades, and in advance of us two sweaty guys) wondered at the commotion and was horrified at what she’d missed, but gave me a pass on the swearing.
So, I thank the Universe for giving that egg a tough shell so that I could stay up chatting with “I” until the wee hours of sunday morning. Sometimes you gotta be thankful for the little things.
So, anyone else been on the bad part of a (human) egging?, what about on the thowing end (and if so, justify your actions :dubious: )? Ever have what would appear to be a bad experience turn out alright afterall. Did you mutter a prayer of thanksgiving afterwards?
Never been egged myself. Thrown a lot of eggs at cars, people, and the occasional plate-glass window. Chunked water baloons beyond counting at various targets, and had BB gun fights with friends. Neatest thing was when these two brothers I knew; their dad bought about fifty rat traps for some reason. We set 'em all, split 'em into three piles about fifteen feet apart and had a three-way rat trap fight.
Justification? This all happened when I was between the ages of 12 and 16. What more justification do you need? :eek:
I had the distinct impression that the SOB in the car was maybe early twenties, or very late teens, and I wouldn’t know him from Adam. I would’ve hoped that at that age they would have grown out of it.
<evil fantasy> Oh, to have quick wit and quicker reflexes: It would have been amusing to catch the egg as it fell and return fire through the open window. </evil fantasy>
Erm, I egged my high school once… Via the skylights. Thank dOg I was a minor at the time, so my only recorded felony is “sealed,” per state law.
Yeah, I knew better. I paid my debt, both financially and punitively (is that a word?) My only excuse is that a dear friend died the previous night, after partying because he was “free” for the duration of summer vacation from the clutches of a terribly clique-ish small town high school. I was more than a bit peeved. (Not a good reason, but a pretty good excuse, IMHO. Even twenty years later, I have a hard time arguing the “logic.”)
No drive-by egging, but one time I got shot with a Super Soaker by some idiots while I was waiting at the bus stop and minding my own business with a book. Looked up to see the car slowing. Figured they were looking to turn at the intersection and went back to the book. Then SPLORTCH
I suppose my clothes were lucky it was just water and not, say, Kool-Aid or some other more nefarious substance. Had to go home and find dry clothes.
Unfortunately I was too shocked to do anything, let alone get their plates or grab that Super Soaker and beat them over their heads with it. Such is life.
My car was collateral damage at a stoplight one night. I’m stopped and minding my own business when some f***er threw an egg from a balcony, hit another car and thus spattered all over my car.
It was too late to take it to a car wash (nothing was near) and I lived in an apartment so I had no access to a hose so I spent the next 45 minutes rinsing my car off by hand w/ wet towels.
Needless to say - I didn’t get it all and now have tiny spots of paint damage all over my car. It makes me sad every time I wash it and it’s all clean and shiny but to look closely it looks like a bird crapped all over it.
not egged personally, but I did once have some fucker hit me square in the back with full cherry slurpee. I was on my bike, said fucker was in a car, speeding along beside me.
I egged a lot in high school. Usually we’d steal a few eggs from each of our houses and go hit a few pre-meditated targets.
Of course it was so fun that it escalated until one night 6 of us went out in a Dodge Caravan (or Astro, some minivan), bought 5 dozen eggs and went crazy.
The most memorable shot from that night was when we were driving like 30 miles an hour and threw 2 eggs at a guy walking on the sidewalk. One hit him in the back, and one in the back of the head simultaneously. Both splattered, and I’m sure ruined the guy’s night.
Anyway, that night we hit cars, houses, people. We pulled into a 7-11 at about midnight to buy sodas or whatever, and there were two cops in there drinking coffee.
“You boys been throwing eggs tonight?”
Nabbed. They had like 25 calls describing the van and us. They searched the van and found empty egg cartons and a couple eggs we hadn’t thrown.
They were like, “if it damages anyone’s paint, you’re going to have to pay for it.” Never heard another word about it.
Justification? It’s fun throwing an egg and seeing it splatter. Difference between then and now is that when you’re a kid you don’t think about what it’s doing to other people.
I egged my best friend’s sister. J and I shared an apartment that faced the back porch of the apartment belonging to J’s sister’s (N’s) best friend’s (A’s) dad. (Got all that? No? Oh well.)
N was spending the night with A and A’s dad let them order in a pizza. The two were having their little party on the back porch. Eventually, the two tired of eating the pizza and decided to pick apart the rest and launch it at our windows. Being on the second story, we were getting angry; there would be no easy way of cleaning off the bits of pineapple and tomato sauce that were sticking to the glass. Then a thought occured to me… Revenge!
So I went to the kitchen and got an egg. J opened my bedroom window (for direct access to the little brats) and started poking fun at them, infuriating them. A and N soon ran out of ammunition, and that’s when we attacked. I broke the raw egg in my hand (not trying to hurt them, just oogie them out a bit; they were both 13 or so). I launched perfectly: the dripping mess landed smack in the middle of A’s sleeping bag.
The conversation that followed was fairly humorous:
N: What’s that?
A: I don’t know. <pokes substance with finger> Oh, ew. I think it’s -
A & N: Oh, EEEWWW! It’s an egg! Gross! Gross! Gross!
<shrieks and squeals erupt as the two try to get back into the apartment without receiving another attack>
It was perfect. If there was any lasting damage, A’s dad never said anything to us about it. In fact, when morning came, he sent the two girls over to clean up our windows.
On a side note… I spent my freshman year of high school in a very small town in MN. The entire area had a policy that, as of October 1st, nobody without ID proving they were over 18 was permitted to buy eggs until after Halloween. Egging people/property hadn’t ever occured to me until I heard of that policy. Damn trouble-making Amish kids, always letting townies get blamed for their misdeeds.
We egged everything in sight in high school. Because it was fun I guess is all the justification we had. I haven’t been egged since, but when it comes I’ll probably laugh and chalk it up to karma.
The most memorable? Easy.
We were 16-17, and the 13 year old younger brother of a kid at school that was a pain in our collective asses had called the police on us the week before for egging the neighbors. He saw us do it and when the neighbor called the police, he ran out and told them who he saw. By the time they caught up with us we were clean (we were on foot) and it was basically his word against ours so all we got was a nasty look from the cop and a warning.
When we caught up to the kid, we were in a carn belonging to a friend who wasn’t involved the previous week. Little Bastard was on his bike, and we all scrunched down in the car while the driver pulled up next to him and his girlfriend stopped to ask the kid some b.s directions. As soon as Little Bastard came closer to the car to talk to the girlfriend, three of us sat up or leaned out from the opposite side of the car and let loose. Easily 8-10 direct hits on the brat then we pulled away.
This time the cops caught us, took us back to the kids house and we had to apologize to him in front of his parents. When his dad asked me later why we did it, and I told him, he was actually sympathetic to a point. He seemed glad we didn’t just haul off and beat the little brat, which we would never have done, but still…
Had to go home and find dry clothes.