My ex showed up on my doorstep one day, after I’d kicked him out.
He handed me a bag with a dozen eggs and a half-pound of bologna. Okay. I took it just to get him off my back.
Imagine my surprise when I met a mutual friend the same day, and he said,
“I saw Alex today, he was bragging that he’d stocked your fridge from top to bottom.”
It was a typical Saturday morning when my ex, Alex, showed up at my doorstep. This wasn’t unusual, except for the fact that I had kicked him out two months ago after he turned my life into an episode of a bad reality show. I didn’t even hear him knock—he just appeared, like a misplaced cloud, looking all sheepish and holding a plastic grocery bag.
Without saying much, he shoved it into my hands. “Here,” he mumbled. “I got you some stuff.”
I stared at the bag, expecting something… useful. Maybe milk? Or, I don’t know, a nice bottle of wine to make up for his previous screw-ups? But nope. It was a dozen eggs and half a pound of bologna. I blinked at him, confused. “Eggs? And… bologna?”
He looked so serious as he handed them to me. “Yeah, top-notch stuff. Thought you could use it.”
I was too stunned to say anything, so I just nodded and took the bag. “Thanks, I guess,” I muttered, more interested in the fact that he had the audacity to show up uninvited than in the bologna.
As he walked away, I couldn’t help but feel like I had just witnessed some weird food delivery service I never signed up for. But, to be honest, I didn’t want to engage in an awkward conversation, so I let it slide.
Later that day, I ran into a mutual friend, Josh, at the park. He had a huge grin on his face as he waved me over. “Hey! Guess what?”
I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Josh looked around like he was about to reveal some grand conspiracy. “I saw Alex today. He was, like, bragging about how he stocked your fridge from top to bottom!”
I stared at him. “What? My fridge is stocked with a dozen eggs and a half-pound of bologna, that’s it!”
Josh laughed so hard, he nearly fell over. “That’s it? Man, he was acting like he just bought you a year’s worth of caviar and champagne!”
I couldn’t help but laugh too. “I think he thinks I’m going to throw a bologna-and-egg dinner party or something. ‘Welcome to my humble abode, here’s some eggy bologna.’”
We both cracked up, but it was clear that Alex had somehow managed to turn an everyday grocery run into an accomplishment worthy of a gold medal.
“Well,” Josh said, wiping away tears from laughing, “at least he’s got good taste in breakfast foods.”
“Yeah, if you’re planning to host a brunch in 1982,” I said, shaking my head.
And that’s how Alex, the ex who couldn’t be trusted to take out the trash, somehow believed that a bag of eggs and bologna was his ticket to winning me back. Maybe next time, he could try something more sophisticated—like a salad… or, you know, some actual effort.
