The night before eggmageddon…

The night before eggmageddon…

Twas the night before Halloween and all through the hood……nope….thats not going to work.

Ever try to buy eggs in Dorchester the night before Halloween? The supply tends to be a bit lean right? That’s because all the little pricks in the neighborhood buy them up for a one night of pure unabashed assholishness the rest of the world refers to as Halloween….or still just egging if you’re Newton police.

There was a bit of nobility to the evening, during the course of the year you could always count on a number of people from around the neighborhood slighting you in one fashion or another. Maybe it was the old man that never gave a tip even though you dropped his newspaper off at 5AM sharp every morning. Or the bus driver who left your mom hanging in a snowstorm and laughed as he drove by. Perhaps you had a villain in your neighborhood. We had someone we referred to as “Piper”, a nickname taken from the famous WWF wrestler (And yes it will always be WWF). This guy moved into the Richard School after it was turned into condos and used to scream at all us 10 year olds hanging on the corner….he even chased us around the neighborhood a few times…kind of a scary cat.

If you were one of these individuals you went on a list. Justice for your terrible deeds would be exacted on Halloween. You got egged and you deserved it. Other than that, it was just an excuse to be a complete dick….and man was it fun. I’m debating whether I should get a crew together right now and assemble a stockpile…

Like anything in life, if you dish it out sometimes you have to take it. Karma is a bitch and your old pal Dot Rat has been both the egger and the eggie. In the mid 90’s my younger brother was taking the egg game to new levels. He had a mean drive by hook shot and could literally pelt hookers on Dot Ave while driving 30MPH. He enjoyed egging people so much the kid had a stockpile in his trunk year round. I thought it was a bit nuts but that was his thing. While most people his age were hitting bars and clubs. He was out buying new sneakers and egging people. What gives?

Anyway, he decided to turn his skills against me.

Late one Halloween night while sipping coffee in front of Dunks on Morrissey with some friends, a muffled crack stopped our conversation dead in it’s tracks. “What was that?” my friend Kristen asked me as she stood next to the Boston Globe machine with her java. Unsure, we continued our convo. About 10 seconds later all of a sudden….PAP! She gets an egg right off the side of her head. It broke in a fashion that stood her hair straight up like that scene in Something About Mary…

As I tried to control my laughter, I look into the night sky and see what resembled artillery fire in the form of eggs coming from the direction of the Murphy schoolyard across the street. I duck inside the hallway and start yelling shit like “incoming” and “take cover” like it’s f*cking Stalingrad.  The place looked like a crime scene after all the yolks had settled. The windows in front of Dunks were covered in egg. We all got our laughter under control and ran across the street hoping to catch some young kids with their stash. Nothing, whoever did it vanished like Ninjas.

I made no mention of it, this was normal stuff for the time of year. Then a week later my younger brother comes in the house with this “I just stole your lunch money” look on his face. I’m like “whats up with you”, he responds “ahhh nothing – heard you had a little egg problem down at Dunks the other night”.  Yeah, he stood there laughing his donkey off as I called him every name in the book….

Have fun out there tomorrow night people….and be good to the kids in your neighborhood!


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