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Tell me about it, spud.
1. When you order just fries at a restaurant and someone says "That's all you're going to eat?"
This is all I want to eat. You ordered what you wanted, and I ordered what I wanted, so let's just leave it alone, k?
2. When someone asks for some of your fries.
True French fry lovers do not like to share, but at risk of looking like an impolite, greedy a**hole, we begrudgingly oblige. Then I sit there thinking about that one less fry I didn't get to eat. It hurts.
3. Friends who want to split the bill evenly when you only ordered fries.
I still stand by what I said earlier—I'm happy with my order of only fries; I am full and satisfied. But I'm not paying more than $10 for a side of fries.
4. Being judged for liking cold fries.
My connection with fries runs deep. I don't just a spud based on it's size, shape or color, and I definitely don't discriminate based on temperature. But non-French fry lovers can't seem to understand this, and they accuse me of being weird and barbaric. I ignore them. They are lost souls.
5. Going to a restaurant that doesn't have fries on the menu.
Instant panic ensues. This place is obviously too fancy for me and I need to leave ASAP.
6. Being seated at table with a basically empty ketchup bottle.
Great, now I have to awkwardly ask the waitress for a new bottle of ketchup, or go steal one from another table (which always feels like you're committing a small felony).
7. Having the choice between waffle fries and curly fries.
How does one choose? It's like choosing a favorite kid.
8. Hearing "You're a cheap date!" at least once a month.
Ha, ha. So funny. Watch me order four glasses of wine.

 
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