The Un-Egg Sandwich

I was waiting for my breakfast of eggs and a biscuit when I noticed the menu.

"What's an Egg Sandwich?" I asked the cook.
"Eggs on a biscuit," he replied.

Being the cheapskate mathematical genius that I am, I noticed that the Egg Sandwich was $1.50. I was usually charged $2.50 for my breakfast of eggs and a biscuit. 

When I got to the register, I flipped open my to-go box and told the girl (let's call her "Matilda") that I had an Egg Sandwich.  

Matilda rang up $2.50.  "Your eggs are next to the biscuit," she said. With a straight face.  "That's not an Egg Sandwich,"

I smiled.  "Seriously?"

"Your eggs have to be on the biscuit to be a sandwich," Matilda said, confidently.

I tried to reason with her. "It takes more work to make an Egg Sandwich than to place the eggs next to the biscuit." 

Matilda shook her head.  "$2.50, please."

"You have to cut the biscuit in half and put the egg on it."  I said, in case she didn't understand the engineering involved in making Egg Sandwiches.

Matilda just stared at me, with a know-it-all look on her face.  

I attempted to wear her down. 

"Cutting a biscuit in half takes significantly more effort than putting eggs on the plate next to the biscuit."  I felt certain that she would come to her senses.

But Matilda would not budge.  "That will be $2.50 for your eggs and biscuit."  Then she smirked. 

So I grabbed a knife, cut my biscuit in half and made myself a stinkin' Egg Sandwich.

Matilda studied my creation for a long moment.  

"That will be $1.50." 


It was a small, but meaningful victory.  

Egg-actly what I needed.