How I Fell in Love With The Guy Who Stole My Fries
I did not plan on meeting the love of my life at a burger joint.
I planned on eating fries. In peace. Alone.
It was Friday night. I had a bad day, a big milkshake, and zero interest in talking to humans.
I found the last empty table, put my bag down like it was a “reserved” sign, and went to order.
Came back 3 minutes later.
Bag: gone. Fries: half gone. Guy: sitting at MY table eating MY fries.
Excuse me???
“Hi,” he said with his mouth full. “Is this seat taken?”
“This entire table is taken. By me. And my fries. Which you’re eating.”
He looked down at the fries like he just realized his crime.
“Oh. My bad. Want some?” and he pushed the tray toward me.
Sir. Those are MY fries.
But he had the saddest puppy eyes and the most stolen ketchup packets I’ve ever seen. So I sat down.
We started with an argument about who had rights to the last curly fry.
We ended 2 hours later talking about:
- Why pineapple on pizza should be illegal
- His dog’s Instagram with 12k followers
- How we both lied on our resumes
Name: Dan. Job: Stealing fries. Hobby: Making me laugh at inappropriate times.
He asked for my number “for fries-related emergencies.”
I gave it to him.
The next day he texted: “Fry emergency. Meet me at the same place. I’ll bring apology fries.”
He showed up with 3 sizes of fries. And a tiny bouquet made of… french fries.
Wrapped in a napkin. With a paper bow.
I’m not proud that this is what made me fall for him.
But if a man can commit to stealing your fries AND replacing them with more fries… that’s husband material.
2 years later we still have “Fry Dates” every Friday.
Rule 1: No stealing.
Rule 2: If you break Rule 1, you have to propose.
He broke Rule 1 last month.
I’m picking out napkin bouquets for the wedding.
Moral of the story:
Don’t go to restaurants hungry.
And don’t trust a guy who offers you your own fries back.
Unless he’s cute. Then maybe.
Your turn: What’s the dumbest way you’ve met someone? Spilled coffee? Wrong order? Stolen fries? Tell me 👇
