The French Fry Kid

I sat quietly in a corner booth at McDonald's, that one which I pass almost every day on the way to work by the expressway. I had already consumed the Fillet-O-Fish, and was debating the merits of gorging on the french fries, sparklingly golden, undoubtedly unhealthy. As usual, the devil had won, and I began squirting out the red catsup that they provided in those small plastic sachets onto the paper mat on the tray. I held up the first fry, dunked it on the red goop, when suddenly a kid stood on the aisle beside me, looking at me with mouth agape. Selfishly, I quickly put the fry in my mouth and gobbled it up hurriedly, making sure she saw that she was to have none of it. The kid, chubby red cheeks, pig-tailed and wide-eyed, closed her mouth too, seemingly in shock. I let out a squeak of laughter, amused at such innocent honesty.

I looked around, wary of any parent or guardian who would not take my bullying lightly. There was none, which I found rather strange. The child was maybe 3 or 4, too young to be allowed to wander off without supervision.

Without notice, the child started to climb up the seat opposite me. It took her about 10 whole seconds, without any help from me, being afraid people might find my help creepy to say the least. She then props up on her seat and eyes the rest of the fries. "Do you want some?" I ask the obvious. She then extends her pudgy arms towards the crispy golden potato sticks, and picks up a long one. Clumsily, she puts them in her mouth and bites, half of the fry ends up on her lap.

This now poses a dilemma of sorts for me, lest I be construed as a kid-napper, I should take action on the matter, saving the rest of my french fries while I'm at it. I waive to a passing busboy, and ask if someone was looking for their chubby kid who has gone missing. He says none so far, but he'll ask the other staff. I do hope they find the irresponsible parents, I don't think I'd wanna take this kid home with me, she'd starve to death for sure. The busboy scurries off to his comrades, in search of the missing parents.

By this time, the kid is on her third fry, and she still looks hungry. I try to make conversation, hoping to buy some time enough to save some of my food for myself. "What's your name?" She looks up at me, but the fourth french fry was still well on its way to her mouth anyway. This is going to be a bit tricky.

The busboy returns, with the manager in tow. "Hi sir, so she's not yours?" she asks. I pan my face left to right to left, she was on to something, I hope. "Hi little girl, where's your mommy and daddy?" The kid looks at her, then suddenly realizes that she's with strangers, and looks around in a frenzy in search of the familiar. I was expecting her to cry just about then, but I have to give it to her, she's one tough cookie.

The little girl then climbs down from her seat, and goes on in search of what is presumably her mommy and daddy, with the two McDonald's employees tailing her. My fries are safe at last!

Of course, I don't touch my food just yet, not wanting to risk catching anything, like say, cooties. I'd want to take a look at the parents first before I resume my meal, that's for sure. I watch as the trio walk out of the joint and disappear around the corner. Good luck kiddo!

The busboy returns a couple of minutes later, to give me an update on the pint-sized offender. Apparently, the mother went to the restroom then stopped by the convenience store for some items, the dad was still in the van with the rest of the family, and both of them thought the toddler was with the other. Mystery solved, great, I can finish my meal now. As I took control of what remained of my fries, I look at the now empty seat in front of me and wonder, where the heck did my drink go?