We Met Because of French Fries

This is a story about falling in love. Call it boy meets girl, call it woman meets man, call it what you like. If that is not the sort of story you wish to be reading, this is the initial disclaimer to suggest that you stop now before you find yourself drawn in against your will.

If that is the sort of story you would like to read, then you have come to the right place.

To begin with, there was Julia. Julia was the sort of girl who you saw and noticed that she was pretty, you assumed she was probably sweet, and just looking at her made you think of freshly-baked cookies. If you got a little closer, you might notice a suggestion of stubborness around her chin, and maybe even something in her eyes that made you think maybe she might not be quite as you thought she was.

Those of you who noticed that something, good for you. You get a gold star. Julia had never been quite as people assumed she was. There were so many more things about her that seemed stuck inside her head, things only her best friends knew. Like that she really did eat the red smarties last. Or that she had some very naughty knickers tucked away in her underwear drawer for "someday."

That day, Julia was sitting on a bench, nibbling at her sandwich and feeling rather uninspired. She was not quite certain why she had chosen to make a bland ham and cheese that morning. It might be due to the lack of options in her refridgerator. Or the fact that she was not particularly a morning person and had been in a bit of a rush but had felt that she really should not spend the extra money on lunch when she had perfectly good food. She was trying to be better about that, taking a lunch, not wasting packaging or money, eating healthier.

So far, it appeared to be a bit of a bust taste-wise. Why was it that a sandwich from the deli tasted so much better than the one she had made herself? The answer came to her quickly enough: pickles. She had forgotten to buy pickles and without them the sandwich was just so incredibly bland.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and she lowered the sandwich back to the tupperware container, closing it and letting her eyes wander as she tried to decide where she could get something quickly. French fries sounded good. Very good. She sniffed, and turned her head, realizing that she was inhaling that wonderful mix of grease, salt and potato. So awful for her, she knew that, but they just tasted so good. Her mouth watered as her eyes scanned the people, trying to decide who had them. She could not remember somewhere close enough to get them, so she wanted to get a look at the container and see if it would give her an idea.

The End

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