When I was in high school, there was an older kid who ran around with us; he was funny as hell and he had the ability to buy “party supplies” legally, so he was extra useful. He was also a bit of a thief, so you had to keep an eye on him. Most people tolerated his indiscretions, and just sort of kept one hand on their wallet if he was around. I’ll call him Gappy in honor of the missing front tooth someone less tolerant gave him.
Gappy was also known for his gargantuan appetite. “You gonna finish that?” should be written on his grave, there’s a small chance those were his last words.
Being broke and hungry is rough, especially if you smoke a lot of ditch weed. Because of this, he had one trick he would inevitably pull the first time we were hanging out at a new delinquent’s house.
Gappy would be hanging around with the rest of the fellas, when he would turn to his new friend.
“Hey, I’m a little hungry, so I was thinking, would it be cool if I made a mayonnaise sandwich?”
“A mayonnaise sandwich?” the new kid would ask, puzzled. Bare in mind, most of us were forbidden to let our fellow teenager friends pillage our kitchens because the parents were sick of subsidizing massive attacks of the munchies. Gappy, in particular, was forbidden even from entering most of our houses, as his sticky fingered reputation preceded him. The rest of us, who had all been victims of this scam, would roll our eyes and go back to arguing if Guns and Roses or Motley Crue would win in a bar fight.
“Yeah, just two slices of bread with some mayo, and maybe a slice of cheese” Gappy would pitch.
“Sure, go for it” New kid would be halfway through saying that and Gappy would already be in his kitchen.
Usually the new kid would rejoin the conversation, unaware that a royal pillaging of his fridge and pantry was going on. When Gappy reappeared, he would be carrying a proper Dagwood sandwich of cartoon proportions. All the meats, all the cheeses, whatever chips were handy, a few veggies for color, maybe part of a leftover lasagna. The new kid’s jaw would drop and the rest of us couldn’t help admire not only the sandwich, but the speed with which Gappy was consuming it. It was as if he channeled Garfield, Jughead, and the good cast members from Scooby Doo.
If questioned about how a “mayonnaise sandwich” became Thanksgiving on bread he would give the “If you give a pig a pancake” excuse as to how the sandwich just got out of hand and snowballed. After he finished his week’s worth of meals, he would suddenly have business elsewhere, and the new guy was probably short a few CD’s.
Then we’d all be banned from yet another house.
One time a friend’s family was remodeling their kitchen and they set up an outside temporary one, it was all of Gappy’s dreams come true. On more than one occasion the family walked outside rubbing the sleep from their eyes only to discover Gappy mid-omelette or worse in the midst of creating a mayonnaise sandwich.
The final tale I will spin is this. Gappy and another guy were at the other guy’s girlfriends house who was cutting school. The other guy who is a legend in his own tales was upstairs with the young lady, um let’s say studying biology. Gappy took the opportunity to take a shower, and wash the clothes on his back. While the clothes were in the dryer Gappy went to make a snack of Gappy proportions.
The girl’s father had been called by the school to mention that she had failed to show up once again, and he left work to see if he could surprise his teenager and teach her a lesson. I’m pretty sure he was the one who got surprised. When he walked into his house, Gappy was in his white briefs totally rocking out with his (the dad’s) Walkman. Of course he was making the kind of epic Mayonnaise sandwich he normally never had the time to perfect. They stared at each other briefly until they both heard the sounds of some enthusiastic studying. Gappy just pointed at the staircase and shrugged his shoulders. A vein pulsed on the father’s forehead.
The enraged father ran upstairs to continue the chain of surprises, which bought Gappy just enough time to grab his sandwich, get his clothes from the dryer and run to beat hell and hide in some bushes to get dressed. And of course to admire his new Walkman.