I went into a supermarket where the price of eggs not too long ago was around a dollar a dozen. I was stunned that the price of a dozen was eight dollars and there was a limit of four per person. Limit of four? I could barely afford one dozen and would hope something would bring the price down. It reminded me of bygone days when I was a kid during World War II. My grandfather had a candy store in Queens where I used to work on Sundays, putting the NY Times sections together and serving customers.
Cigarettes were scarce during the war and were expensive. We got a skimpy allotment of cigarettes every week. It was a little bigger than most stores got because my father was a tobacco salesman. Smokers used to come in and ask for loosies, meaning loose cigarettes. One customer came in daily and always asked for four loosies. He paid his dime and off he went. I wondered if it had reached that point with eggs. I was tempted and decided to ask the help desk at the supermarket if I could buy three eggs. I didn’t expect a yes. I just wanted to make a point and maybe enliven my morning. I suggested it might be good business to sell loose eggs. After all, who can afford eggs at eight dollars a dozen. The service woman laughed at me. I turned on my serious look and said, “You want me to starve? Eggs are a staple for me.” The woman’s expression changed and realized she might be offending me. “We can’t do that sir,” she said. For fun, I considered making an argument but then thought better of it. But I should say, if eggs go up any higher and stay that way, it might make sense. Avian flu be damned.!
