Mr. Potato Thief

The other night I patronized one of the kebab places in my neighborhood.  Two things happened: (1) I ordered a sandwich with samurai sauce (Yes, that’s right. SAMURAI SAUCE.), and (2) a parisian man tried to steal my fries.

If there is one thing that you should know about me, you should know that potatoes are my kryptonite.  Not chocolate.  Potatoes.  Fried.  Mashed.  Crinkle cut.  Curly.  Hash-browned.  Diced.  Chipped.  Baked.  All of it.

I LOVE POTATOES.

So, needless to say, when some parisian assclown tries to steal my fries as some kind of charming banter/play for my heart… this didn’t end well for him.

It all started when Mr. Potato Thief tried to chat me up by asking me whether he should order fries.

As a potato-lover, I scoffed at him and responded affirmatively with a resounding, “OF COURSE”.

Mr. Potato Thief ultimately opted out of fries, citing the fact that he “was on a diet”.

Again, I scoffed at him.

What a pansy.

When my order arrived, complete with samurai sauce, I was thrilled as peaches and proceeded to ignore him in order enjoy my meal.

But Mr. Potato Thief had other ideas.

He got up very close to me, reached across my chest and jokingly made a play for my fries.

All I remember feeling was this blind, hot rage, and the following things occurred:

1.  I grabbed his wrist and slammed it down on the table.

2.  With his pansy little wrist still firmly pinned to the table, I got up very close to his face and just growled, “DEGAGE”.

3.  When his friend rushed to his defense and demanded to know what I was doing to him, I finally let go of his wrist and just responded, “He should’ve ordered his own fries”.

I’m not sure what Mr. Potato Thief and his friend got up to afterward.  All I know is that the sympathetic kebab worker gave me extra fries to make up for being harassed by a potato thief.  And that made everything right with the world.

But let this be a lesson to all men the world over.

DO.

NOT.

STEAL.

MY.

FRIES.

Unless, of course, I give you permission. But that would mean that I really like you.

10 Comments

Filed under Misters

10 responses to “Mr. Potato Thief

  1. Fair call. Fries are serious business. He should have got his own.

  2. Ash

    I agree with Elly. What an asshole!!

  3. Brian

    I was just out with a group of Swedes, and they got nostalgic about Swedish boiled potatoes at one point and said wistfully that France wasn’t potato country.

    For all we know, the samurai sauce contains actual chunks of deceased samurais.

  4. Pingback: The Paris Blog: Paris, France Expat Tips & Resources »Blog Archive » How NOT to Flirt

  5. martin

    You should have slammed his face down, broken his nose and dragged his bloody trombine across the table and onto the floor.

    Next time, maybe.

  6. peter

    omg, i was just on rue saint jacques visiting a friend and i saw a possibly belgian style fry place. must go!

    semi near rue royer collard

  7. Pingback: How NOT to Flirt

  8. edmundchristian@hotmail.com

    i hate to say this but being an asian, I can’t help but feel that French men do have this idea of the submissive Asian who cannot resist the charms of the caucasian, ergo they are more likely to ‘cross the line’.

    Good that you did what you did though.

  9. Well, I’d say the experience was overall a win, because a) you got hit on, which, although by an ass and certainly annoying under the circumstances, is still at least a *little* flattering; and more importantly,

    b) YOU GOT EXTRA FRIES!

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