Through college, my best friend Mon and I made daily jaunts between work, class, home and back again, and occasionally we would stop to get Micky D's Happy Meals...yes, because college kids with little to no financial assistance who work full-time jobs while carrying full class loads are dirt poor and that's when Happy Meals were still under $2. Anywhoo...cruising along in the Blue Bug, as her powder blue Escort was called, I usually rode shotgun which meant I dispensed food, beverage, chocolate, Tums, and tissues as well as the occasional scream in fear of my life or to warn pedestrians to run to the next county!
On one of these trips for a quick late lunch, we pulled out of the drive-thru and I passed her fries to her first (which is bizarre-Mr. FixIt wants his fries first too. They are somehow twins in former life) then unwrapped her burger and handed to her. We went about our way, I drank my drink, and we made our stops. We ended up at my grandma's house where I (we at times) had been living for most of our college lives. Day went on and evening came, we started to head out again. I was feeling a bit hungry, but too busy to really do anything about it. We had classwork, homework, projects, teaching assignments to make up and 5 million other things per day to do such as coloring our hair using screw drivers. Don't ask.
Because we were usually so busy, I don't remember the exact details of what happened next, but I believe we were leaving my grandma's for an evening class, it wasn't quite dark yet, jump back in the Blue Bug and "My brake won't go down." "Mother(*&#$@#$%@@# my park brake WON'T $@*(?*&?@#$ go down!!" We were both perplexed. She pulled it up just fine earlier and on our rounds, when leaving had no problem releasing it to the down position. "It feels mushy....do you smell THAT??" --Um no, but I'm a little hungry. She gets it down with a mash and off we go. When we return later, now dark, "There's something IN there!" as she pulls the brake up to set it. "What the....Oh my god!! Where did this come from??" as she pulled up part of a hamburger, slightly mangled. I replied, "I dunno. It's not mine!"
"Yeah! It's not mine!"
"Well it's not MINE!"
"I ate my sandwich. I know I did! I had to!"
"Where'd this come from then, you handed mine to me. I know I ATE mine!"
"Well, it's NOT mine either!"
By now we are both giggling hysterically in the car, in the driveway in the dark, having drug out a flashlight and tongs from the house to dig the remnants of smushed bun and burger with splashes of ketchup out of the park brake. I was really thinking, "I did eat my hamburger, didn't I? I mean, I think I did!" Then I remembered being hungry before we'd left the house the last time. Oh sh!t.
More giggling and swearing, things along the lines of "You dumbass! You ruined my park brake. My car's gonna stink!"
Apparently I had pulled my burger out between getting her fries and her burger to hand over. I must have set it down on my lap and a couple of crazy curves later, it was gone from my lap and, in such a rush with things to do, forgotten. Though I must have had a good bit of my soda to fill me up because I really did think I had eaten lunch.
Poor Blue Bug did always have a touch of a musty grilled odor after that. She sold it not long afterwards.
*edited to add link to Mon--whoops, forgot that :-D