Arc of a French Fry Effortlessly

An average two bedroom apartment with wall to wall orange and brown shag carpet (a la 1975) which also graced the floor of a small bathroom I shared with my Mother.  A well-watered pathos hung from a twine macrame’ hanger near one of the two windows in the living room.  My Mother had kindly gifted me a 1974 orange Volkswagen bug that I used to get back and forth from my job at Eileens clothing store at Metrocenter; school (we lived pretty far from my high school) and to cruise Central on Friday night with my gal pals.  I kept it nice and shiny, with weekly waxing with Turtle wax, and loaded it with my girlfriends every chance I got.

It was a Saturday.  My Orange Volkswagen Bug 1974friend Lorrie and I had just arrived home with multiple shopping bags from Foxmore.  We scurried to dump our bounty out onto my bed to admire our new chokers, leather clogs, hiphuggers and crop tops.  We both had retail jobs that kept us in the most current garb (one of the main reasons we had jobs!).

We had also stopped at McDonald’s on the way to grab our favorite lunch – a Quarter Pounder with cheese, a large french fry and a Coke.  Lorrie quickly retrieved the green flowered Corelle plates from the cupboard as I divided up our faire.  We were starving!  We were very active young girls with high metabolisms and could easily handle 3,000 calories a day no problem.

Lunches on a school day generally consisted of Taco Bell bean burros and tostadas or a fudge brownie malt from Baskin Robbins.  For breakfast I would hit the snack bar at school and get an ice cream sandwich and a large Coke.  A sugar-aholic for sure!  Not to mention the brown sugar and butter sandwiches on white bread I would have for a quick snack when Mom wasn’t home!  I almost had to eat this way just to keep meat on my bones!  I know!  Tough problem to have!  Believe me, that changed later. 🙂

Mom was home and in her bedroom.  But, since the two of us rarely stopped giggling, Mom paid no attention to us as we stuck fries up our noses and made an issue when the ketchup bottle made a fart noise.  Yes, we were teenagers and, of course, never acted like this in front of boys.  But, we each reveled at the opportunity to make the other one laugh hysterically when there was just the two of us.  Lorrie smiling nbLorrie’s laugh was infectious!  What I wouldn’t do to keep hearing it.  The top of her nose crinkled and her eyes squinted as she chortled with a crooked-toothed smile.  She looked like she was going to explode!  And, I did everything I could to try and make her!  I made any kind of weird noise I could, made funny faces or told an inappropriate story just to get her going. It became a hobby of mine.

We quickly polished off our lunch, bee-lined it to the stereo console and sat Indian-style facing each other while we picked through my Moms records.  Nah! Nothing there of interest.  I had heard enough Englebert Humperdinck during Mom’s weekly cleaning day!  I turned the radio dial to find KRIZ (a local radio station just for us teenagers).  Boogie on Reggae Woman started playing as I suddenly felt a large bubble growing in my belly.  It was deep.  I waited until it was perfectly primed before I began to push it out as hard as I could in order to get the best reaction I could get from my best friend.  I pushed, mouth wide open with my head tilted back just slightly to get the full guttural affect. It was a monstrous belch with something extra…a large, undigested wad of french fries that hurled up into a perfect arc and landed unharmed onto the shag carpet.  Our minds had no time to “digest” what had just happened.  We fell onto our sides on the floor, laughing so hard that no sound came out of our open mouths.  Tears streamed from the corners of our eyes as we held our stomachs in shear pain from laughter.

The silent laughter went on just long enough for Mom and her boyfriend Bill to come out of her bedroom to find out why things were so quiet in the living room.  Her eyes landed on the two of us writhing in pain.  “What’s so funny?!” she blurted.  We couldn’t speak.  All we could do was hold our stomachs and point at the wet wad o’ fries on the carpet.  Moms mouth opened wide.  She threw back her head, dropped to her knees then onto her side as she grabbed her stomach with both hands to join us in our painful laughter.  Bill stood there smiling.  “What is wrong with you guys?” he squeaked.  My Mom, knowing me full well, and my extent of gross, pointed at the spat out spuds on the floor and said “Karin……baaahhhhaaahhhaa…..burped out……baaahhhahaa….her…..gasp…. french fries!!”.  So weird that she knew exactly what had happened, and that it was my wad o’ fries!  Bill chuckled and grinned, not nearly as amused as the three of us were.

I couldn’t stand it anymore!  I was about the pee my pants!  I jumped up and headed for the bathroom.  Along came Lorrie with the same idea.  We wrestled each other all the way to the bathroom until we broke free, Lorrie with the win.  I danced around in the bathroom holding myself until Lorrie was finished.  Then Ahhh!  Relief!

Our stomachs hurt for days after the flying fry episode.  We giggled for several weeks about the incident and shared it with our other girlfriends who almost laughed as hard.  I don’t think either of us have ever laughed so hard before and since.  This is the thing we will always remember when we think of each other all these years later.

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