Flashback: 1995, After school in the science labs. R is working on a balsa wood tower, I'm studying rocks, mineral and fossils (and probably yelling at R for something) and Bri walks in with a large brown take out bag. We descend upon him like locusts. He has umpteen orders of cheese fries from Angelo's, the pizza/sub shop from across the street. Golden brown crinkle cut fries, covered in mozzarella, baked in a round aluminum takeout container. We eat happily, scraping the crispy baked on cheese from the side of the container when we are all done. This scene occurred pretty much every afternoon during science team season.
Yesterday, R and I are driving back from his parent's house, cruising up Broadway in Cambridge, going by Angelo's. Nostalgia grips us and we decide to indulge in some cheese fries. Louie is still working behind the counter, and he still remembers our names and greets us enthusiastically (although, he has always called R, “Fifi!” for whatever reason). We order cheese fries with olives and oregano on top. When we were in high school, the fries were $1.50, now they were $3.00. Hardly expensive, but another marker as to how much time has passed. The fries were just as I remember them: crispy, cheesy and so bad for you. Who says you can't go home?