When people do it, I have to resist the urge to slap them. It
defies culinary etiquette and societal conventions in general.
I’m talking about people who steal fries off of my
plate.
It’s not that I want them to go hungry ““ au
contraire, I fully support eating in college.
But mooching is an art that takes months, if not years, to
perfect.
I’ve taken more than my share of Diddy Riese cookies from
my sorority sisters and innumerable six-packs’ worth of Cokes
from my boyfriend (not to mention all of those fancy dinners at
Enzo’s).
But after years of study under my brother’s tutelage, I
now know how to do it in style.
The inexperienced moocher will grab a handful of fries without
even asking, coming across as ravenous, rapacious and rude.
Case in point: As I was writing this column, I was munching on a
fresh batch of fries from the Cooperage.
Without warning, several people walked up to me and swarmed over
my fries like vultures circling a lion carcass.
Half of the fries were gone in 60 seconds, destroyed at the
hands of maniacal moochers.
Experienced moochers, on the other hand, are sneaky and
smart.
When I’m dining out with my family and my brother wants my
fries, he’ll point wildly and exclaim, “Look, Julianne,
your friend Becky just walked in,” and then quickly grab a
fistful of fries while I turn around to look.
It’s gotten to the point where I’ll get up to go to
the restroom and return minutes later only to find my plate
mysteriously less full than it was before I left.
I’m pretty sure I know who the culprit is, but like the
Others on “Lost,” he never leaves a trace.
Sometimes, though, my brother does what I call “reverse
mooching” when he’s too full to finish what’s on
his plate.
He’ll morph into the Robin Hood of moochers, giving back
to those less fortunate (or just less observant) than he.
Last weekend at dinner, when my mom wasn’t looking, my
brother stealthily added a pile of green beans to her plate.
My mom, being the veggie lover that she is, didn’t even
notice that her heap had grown exponentially.
With all of the secretive tactics that clever moochers use,
it’s a perfect training ground for America’s next batch
of top-notch CIA and FBI agents.
Why, you don’t need to watch “Thunderball” or
“Diamonds are Forever” to learn spy moves.
Just practice stealing fries from your friends, and then
you’re well on your way to becoming the next James Bond.
Ironically, my brother wants to be a secret agent when he
graduates from college, and let me tell you, he’s a
natural.
Of course, mooching doesn’t have to be all about tactics
and trickery.
When my fellow assistant Arts & Entertainment editor asked
to have some fries, because of his polite approach, I gladly gave
some to him.
Here was a man who was open about his moochery, but that only
made me respect him more.
It didn’t matter that I had spent long hours working at
the Daily Bruin and used my paycheck to buy these fries only to
feed my coworkers with them.
Sharing my fries with him was more than that ““ it was like
coworker bonding, even if mooching was involved.
Everybody gets hungry, and the smell of fries may suck you in so
hard that you can’t resist eating them off of my plate.
But next time, before you mooch from me, think twice about
trying to be James Bond.
After all, if you ask, I just might let you take all of the
fries you want.
If you’ve always wanted to be a spy but didn’t
know you could learn so much from fries, e-mail Fylstra at
jfylstra@media.ucla.edu.