French Fries

Long and skinny, short and fat, waffle, crinkly, curly, mooshy, mostly crunchy, brown, hot, zesty, seasoned or plain with a pool of Heinz Ketchup – that’s how I like my fries! McDonalds, Wendy’s, Arby’s (YUMMY CURLY), Burger King, Back Yard Burger, Ore Ida, or just about any brand…even Applebee’s!

I was in college and played the piano at my small, home church, which was in a country community where everyone ran into everyone else in aisles at the community Piggly Wiggly. A member of the congregation always made a point to hug me and tell me every Sunday how much he and his wife loved me! I had known them for most of my life. They had a son who was a few years older than me who had played many seasons of baseball with my brother. A year or so before, their son, who I’ll call Bill, had divorced and was living at home again. I’m sure you can tell where I’m headed with this, but for the sake of making this complete, I’ll tell you!

All these hugs, and “my wife and I just love you” were laced with, “We want you to go out with our son, marry him and live happily ever after.” I never saw it coming, but one day, it hit. The phone started ringing, Bill asked me out, and when I saw his parents at Piggly Wiggly, you would have thought I was the grocery item they had come to buy. Nevertheless, I agreed. One cold night, I found myself fixing my hair and putting on lipstick because Bill was on his way to get me. We were going to dinner and a movie. When we got in the hand, spray-painted, white, black-tinted windowed, mile-long station wagon, he asked, “So, Leigh, where would you like to eat.” Well, at this point, I’m thinking I’ve been abducted by a crazy man and no one will see me tied up and thrown in the back, because the windows are so dark! I didn’t care if we ate anything or even left the driveway so long as I could see my family again.

Bill was a nice guy, though, so I somewhat got over my anxiety as we drove to the mall. Every time we turned a curve, I would slide around because there was so much Armor All on the seats they were like ice. In an effort to escape the wagon, I quickly suggested we go to Applebee’s. Big mistake.I ordered a salad, because that’s just what we girls do on first dates, right? Well, Bill decided that of all the yummy things on the menu, he would order a grilled cheese and French fries. I was a little shocked, because I thought that on a date you would order something you wouldn’t eat at home. I don’t have many more memories from that date, other than what happened next.

I love French fries…so much that I could eat them alone for a meal. However, I’m not sure I love them as much as he did. Before I had taken two bites of my salad, he had swallowed his whole grilled cheese and all of the fries faster than the whale did Jonah! Then, as my face turned several different shades of red, he sighed and said to the server, “I just love these fries. Please bring me some more.” Oh, my, instead of being abducted by a criminal, I had been taken to Applebee’s by a McDonald’s Fry Guy…I’m pretty sure he had on those crazy sneakers, too! I was SOOOO ready to go home! Forget the movie…I was afraid the “Hamburglar” was not far behind! I have no idea how I was able to talk my way out of a movie or anything more…maybe I had a headache? I don’t know!

However, I do know that I never went on another date with the kidnapping fry guy! I am still haunted by long white station wagons with black tinted windows! If my memory serves me correctly, those fry guys on McDonald’s commercials might show up anywhere – and what do you know, it still holds true!

I just needed a few groceries. I was on my way home and I decided to stop in Piggly Wiggly to grab a couple of things. Of course, even 15+ years later, the same people in the same community still shop at the same store! Lo and behold I ran into guess who? Bill’s parents! Immediately I had a horrible flashback of French fries. This time, I wasn’t a single, college student, but a divorced mother. . Amazingly enough, Bill’s mother noticed right off that I didn’t have on rings. (I should have kept my rings to shove on during these cases of emergency!)

Bill no longer lived with his parents…he had bought a house a few years back – just two streets over from my home. After a short, courtesy conversation, I quickly got out of there…casing the parking lot to make sure there were no signs of a the hand, spray-painted white , black-tinted windowed, mile-long station wagon…whew, the coast was clear! Several weeks later, the girls and I were outside enjoying a beautiful, spring afternoon. I kept seeing the same person riding his bike past my house in the neighborhood, and on this particular day, he stopped to say hello. I didn’t have much to go on for recognition purposes, so I just waited until he got closer…

Oh, no! Since a bike has no tinted windows, I had trouble at first. For a moment, I felt as if I were sitting in Applebee’s again. The conversation was okay. He didn’t ask me out, so that was good. He just said hello and asked about my family. Whew, I was relieved.The girls and I spent a lot of time outside that Spring, probably too much. The next visit was about a week later. This time, he was wearing his sneakers ! I was a little too relaxed since the precious visit had seemed to be so innocent. Here’s how the conversation went:

Bill: Hey, Leigh. Sure is a beautiful day.

Leigh: Yeah, the girls and I are enjoying it.

Bill: Wow, I noticed you aren’t wearing your wedding rings. (In other words, “My mom told me she saw you and that you are divorced.)

Leigh: Nope, no rings.

Bill: Well, I know being divorced is not easy, especially when you are a parent…(Then, all my worst thoughts came true.)

Bill: Well, if you ever want to go out and talk about it, I would love to just give you an ear so you can vent, etc.

Leigh: (Thinking about French Fries and how I wanted to run in the house and shut the garage door on him) Oh, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.The girls and I continued to enjoy the beautiful, Spring afternoons, but invited every neighbor over we could think of for the rest of the season. We would see him run by or ride by, but we kept one finger on the garage remote at all times.

Thank goodness the Piggly Wiggly went out of business!