Not Sunny Side Up

When it comes to food, love costs an extra ten dollars. I had a hankering for a breakfast I didn't cook myself, so Prescott and I ate at The Golden Nugget to save around, roughly ten or more dollars by not eating at M.Henry's. M. Henry's is a far yummier alternative that could potentially stop us from ever paying off any credit card bill by luring us to consume all funds before responsibly diminishing debt.

So yeah. We went to the Golden Nugget. I don't know about you but I love eggs. A simple perfectly poached egg in the morning makes me giddy. A boiled egg, cooked so that the outside is a little firm and the inside is soft and creamy makes me want to eat five of them. The problem I have with any diner, not only the morning grease joints but also some better breakfast places, is that if I ask for my eggs fried over-medium, it always comes out over easy.

Barely cooked. Really watery.

This time, as common sense would prompt someone to determine, I asked the waitress for my eggs to be cooked over-well. In all likelihood, it should come out cooked a little longer than they usually cook it, and so might be closer to what I like to eat.

Prescott surmised that the eggs would come out all burnt and toasty. We were both wrong.

Apparently, this is what eggs cooked over-well look like:

Yes. Scrambled. (actual eggs from diner not pictured)

I ate it anyway.