Hard boiled eggs from 7/11. Life changing? Auora? Unordinary? Ethereal? I watched 2 officers stationed in Japan indoctrinating one who wasn’t. They somehow ended up on the topic of hard boiled eggs. “You’ve got to try em!”

“Wait do you have any? ” one said to the other.

Turns out he did, as they continued to explain to the outsider what he had been missing out on inside this shell.

I was now shamelessly the audience watching the gaijin peel his egg; “100% intrigued” he called himself. “Is this a one bite evolution?” he asked, bouncing glances between the two officials. I chuckled at the gravity at which they approached the surrender of his Japanese-egg virginity, still unconvinced it wasn’t a hoax. One said she does it in two while the other was nodding as to confirm one bite was the way.

I was sure these were the same Japanese eggs I could boil at home.

The new guy brushed off the remaining specks of egg shell, tilted his head back, closed his eyes and bit in, traveling through a parallel reality.

“No! I’m not in the matrix. I’m over the matrix, pulling the strings!” he said to the fellow joining audience. I laugh in disbelief, adding “Stop at 7/11 to my to do list.”

I sat down on the first bench I encountered, my 68 yen egg under speculation as it rotated through my fingers.

Well, moment of truth. Had I really been missing out on a hidden gem, nestled in plain sight? My mandibles closed and my hand fell, revealing the eggs center.

The whites were barely firm as they should be, perhaps with a more intense sulfur aroma then usual. The yolk, flavorful? I guess. It was definitely salty, too salty for my taste. Someone tried to reason with me that it’s like bar food, that salty snack to accompany your 7/11 chu-hi or whatever it is you drink #wherestheslurpees.

As for me, I’ll be leaving those 68 yen eggs in their precious little boxes.