Hi, I’m Janet.
I’ve been commuting to and from work every day for 15 years, and I spend about 78% of that car-time munching on drive-through fries.
I know all the best drive-throughs to hit—who has the fastest lines, which locations are easiest to get in and out of, which fries are the crispiest, which employees hook you up with extra ketchup or barbecue sauce, and how you can upgrade to a super-size without getting charged.
This shouldn’t have happened to me.
But it did.
One day about a month ago, I pulled into one of my most favorite spots—a Sonic Drive-In about halfway between my house and the office. Everyone says McDonald’s has the best fries, but the line at their drive-through is always really long. Sonic is the best-kept secret of the fast food world. You can pull right up in your very own spot, and look at all the pictures of milkshakes while you wait for your fries. I like to sit there and think about those funny guys in the commercials.
And, the staff wear roller skates. Cool!
Anyway. This one morning (I like to start my day with fries because my job is really boring and I need a reason to leave the house in the morning) I was already running a little late for work, so I was kinda antsy to get going. I was already backing out of my space when they came out with my bag full of fries, complete with extra honey mustard for dipping.
I pulled back onto the highway, and got my standard setup going right away. Bag on the passenger seat. Then you get the honey mustard out so you can use both hands to open it up, while you steer with your knees. Gently—gently!—place the honey mustard in that little nook beneath the stereo, right in front of the gear stick.
Then, you reach back into the bag and spread a few napkins on your lap. Gingerly reach for your fries by the side of their cardboard container, and lift them out of the bag like the funny bone in Operation.
Place the fries in your crotch while you eat all the stragglers at the bottom of the bag. Then, it’s go time! Fries and honey mustard, all the way to the office.
I should have known something was wrong when I picked up that container.
One of its seams had come loose, and I had to hold the corners in place so it didn’t fall apart completely.
No big deal, I thought. I’ll keep it together with my thighs while I drive. It’s not like this is my first rodeo.
Then, it happened.
Just as I glanced down to make sure I got the longest, fattest fries first (I like to start with those and save the burnt-crispy ones for last), disaster.
The playlist I’d been enjoying that morning ended, and Barenaked Ladies came blaring through my speakers!
It’s been, one week since you looked at me…
Cocked your head to the side and said I’m angry
I hate this song so much, I had a physical reaction. I jerked back in my seat yelling, “AAARRRGH! THIS SONG IS THE WORST!”
But I forgot about the broken seam on my fry-box. My surprise and disgust made the fries jump out of my lap—and when they did, that seam finally split for good.
Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Fries, flying everywhere. Landing in my hair, pooling on the dash, disappearing into that dark crevasse between the driver’s seat and the console, leaving the coveted honey mustard sauce to gel and turn slimy.
It was my worst nightmare, come to life. I probably shouldn’t even have kept driving; I’m lucky I made it to work at all.
I shuffled into the office with grease spots on my pants and bits of salt still falling from my hair. I could tell I smelled like fries, because the person in the next cubicle wrinkled his nose when I sat down, and invented excuses to be away from his desk all morning long.
Whatever, I told myself. Shit happens! You’ll get more fries tonight. (I also like to eat fries on the way home, because it gives me something to look forward to all day, at my boring job.)
But no matter how I tried to cheer myself up—I even streamed some Sonic commercials at my desk—I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong.
How could I ever enjoy fries again, after the trauma of this morning? What would I tell my husband, next time he asked me to hit the drive-through and pick up dinner? How could I bring myself to clean all the fries out of my car, constantly reliving the horror of my spill?
I was afraid. I thought I’d never be able to enjoy car fries again.
During lunch that day, we had a big budget meeting. Lunch was provided.
I walked into the conference room and saw a big platter of food in the middle of the table. There were sandwiches, pickles, crudité, all kinds of soft drinks, and…
French fries.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I sat down in one of the chairs and started to cry.
“What’s wrong?” the senior VP asked me.
Finally, the whole story came spilling out of me like so many delicious french fries. I told her everything—my morning fry habit, my foolproof fries-while-driving system, Barenaked Ladies, and how I’d just left all the spilled fries in my car because I was too heartbroken to even look at them anymore.
The whole time, she sat next to me, studying my face. When I was done, her face broke into a puzzled smile.
“Oh, girl! Haven’t you heard of Fries on the Fly?”
I sniffed. “Huh?”
“Fries on the Fly! It’s a silicone container you can put your fries in, that fits in your cup holder! If you had that, this never would’ve happened!”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Surely, if such a product existed, I, the fries-while-driving expert, would know about it… right?
During our budget meeting, I pulled out my phone and did some stealth research on this seemingly too-good-to-be-true solution to my problem.
I have to admit, I was skeptical.
But with reviews like this…
“I don't know how I ever lived without this product. Prior to obtaining this Multi-Purpose Universal Car French Fry Holder, my vehicle was a salty potato graveyard.”
and
“5 Star for you, french fry friend”
and
“works like it's supposed to. holds the fries well and wasn't expensive”
I figured, what the hell. I was ready to try anything at that point.
It’s been 3 weeks since I’ve been using Fries on the Fly, and I can’t believe I ever tried to eat fries in the car without it.
Now, I have a whole new routine!
Instead of holding my fries with my crotch, I place them neatly in their sweet little holder—which, by the way, is big enough for a McDonald’s large. Score.
When a song comes on that I don’t like, I’m free to jerk back in disgust with NO FEAR of losing my fries. And best of all, the silicone even helps keep my fries hot for longer, so if I don’t finish all my morning fries, I can munch on a few during my evening commute, on my way to the drive-through to get more fries.
Being able to enjoy the things I love most (fries)...
Thanks, Fries on the Fly.
*Psst—this is not a real story, although the reviews are real. That said, Fries on the Fly is VERY real, and you can keep other stuff in it besides fries!
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