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Jeremy and his wife Katheryn, a couple in their mid 30′s, were parked at the curb of a fifties style drive in restaurant eating their burgers and fries. On a tray designed to sit on a partially open car window, sat a rootbeer float in a frost covered glass with ice cream melting down the sides. Jeremy and Katheryn were enjoying their meal when a car two parking places over started to blast their music.

Jeremy considered asking them to turn their music down but it seemed inappropriate to do so. Asking for some reason would be even more inappropriate than the current volume of their music. Telling them to “turn it down,” would have to be the responsibility of the restaurant staff.

There were several other customers parked at the curb and Jeremy could tell by their their facial expressions that they were bothered by the loud techno music. He joked with Katheryn, “Honey will you go tell them to turn their music down?” She gave him a funny look.

The car blasting the loud music was a 2009 gray Cadillac. Inside were four kids in their mid-twenties. A guy with a bleach blonde fro-hawk and designer shades sat in the driver’s seat. A blond girl with Gucci sunglasses and a tank top sat shotgun. A slender pair of women’s feet stuck out an open window in the back seat. In the other back seat was a young man with a crewcut and a tattoo of a lions head on his left shoulder.

At this particular drive-in restaurant, when you wanted the attention of the servers, it was as simple as turning on the headlights in your car. There was a big sign in front that said “Turn on your lights for service.” It worked well. Jeremy used it when he wanted a few extra napkins and the waitress brought him a ton. “Maybe it works too well,” he thought, holding the wad of extra napkins in his right hand.

However the driver of the gray Cadillac clearly had overlooked the sign. He decided it would be better to shout and whistle at the two young waitresses. He used this method for several verbal exchanges, one of which was a complaint that they brought him the wrong burger.

Jeremy couldn’t believe the rudeness of these people, it seemed to go from bad to worse. The thought of a large cup of orange fry sauce hurling through a blue sky, spilling over the edges and heading their direction made him laugh. It was just a thought, but one that soon materialized when he heard the words.

“Hurry it up, Bitch!” come out of fro-hawks mouth.

Subtly, Jeremy lobbed a half open but full container of fry sauce high into the air, aiming for the Cadillac. The fry sauce’s trajectory took a high arc that the universe would certainly help guide to splatter upon the Cadillac’s windshield. “They won’t have any idea who threw it and I will deny knowing anything about it.” Jeremy thought. He would not let his wife in on this little secret either.

However, the fry sauce didn’t land on their windshield, instead it floated through their open sunroof and exploded in the drivers bleach blonde fro-hawk. The orange goop was all over his hair, clothes, and a big glob of it draped over the lens of his designer sunglasses.

Fro-hawk was pissed and he stepped out of his car mad as hell. “WHO THREW IT!” Fro-hawk yelled aloud as if he was talking to everybody parked in the drive in. He marched up and down the aisles of cars and kicked a few random bumpers. One big guy got out of his truck and started yelling at him. Clearly at a disadvantage, Fro-hawk backed down from the fight. He got back in his car and the four pealed out upon leaving the drive-in.

The whole scene was incredibly entertaining and Jeremy was proud of himself for creating it and not taking credit. Kathryn had no idea that Jeremy threw the fry sauce, and he intended to keep it this way until long after the incident was over. Otherwise she might turn him in. Her sense of universal justice did not match that of his own. It was a difference that could spawn an argument now and then, but at the same time helped keep them together.

One of the cooks behind the grill however saw the whole fry sauce incident. He stared at Jeremy with a grin and nodded in approval when he caught his eye. As Jeremy left the parking lot, he turned the corner and another open container of fry sauce came sliding off the center console and into his lap. It got all over his new pair of pants. Amidst all the excitement, Jeremy had forgotten that there was another open container of fry sauce sitting on the center console.

He supposed it was the universe showing it’s sense of humor, though he didn’t find it nearly as funny when the joke was on him. Did you put that fry sauce on the center console he asked Katheryn?  She did not put it there, at least she didn’t think she did. For all Jeremy knew, it was he who put it there and forgot about it.

Luckily, they had a lot of extra napkins in the car to clean up the mess.