The Napkin Eater

"You're Becca—as in Becca the Napkin-eater?" Yes, my mom actually said that to my friend Becca when they met for the the first time a month or so ago.

That's because I had told my mom the napkin story, something that occurred months before but that had gone down in history.

Becca laughed good-naturedly and acknowledged that yes, she was the Napkin-eater. After this, I explained that my mom was among the people to whom I told this story.

You see, my friends like pranks. A LOT. I could tell you plenty of good ones involving lots of toilet paper, assailants, the police, and potatoes. But this one happened in the lunchroom when five or six of us were eating dinner with Becca.

It was a day for sandwiches. If Becca had not chosen a sandwich that day, she would have not made history the way she did on that unsuspecting day.

Also, it's important to note that recently there had been quite a prank battle between Becca and one of my other friends, Brian.

Becca left the table for a moment to go get more food or a drink or something, and she made the mistake of leaving her sandwich sitting on the table. I'm fairly certain the whole napkin thing was Brian's idea.

WHAT IF... we put a napkin in Becca's sandwich? Would she notice?

So we did it! We tore a napkin into a small enough square and then proceeded to squawk at Brian to hurry up and put the napkin square on the sandwich, because Becca was on her way back.

She didn't suspect a thing. We all laughed uncontrollably (I'm afraid I was most of the problem in that area), and we were very reluctant to explain what the problem was.

Still, Becca wasn't suspicious. My friends and I tried not to watch too closely as Becca reached for her sandwich.

I noticed with horror that the napkin was still kind of sticking out of the sandwich. She'd see it for sure.

But she didn't. She grabbed that sandwich and brought it to her mouth.

We waited.

I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.

And at last she took a bite. No surprise or concern etched itself on her face. In fact, it could have been the best sandwich in the world.

We all had huge smiles, and I burst into laughter again. But all of this did not alarm Becca. She calmly ate every bite of the sandwich, totally unaware that she'd just consumed a whole square of napkin.

We didn't tell her. Not until months later, anyway. It was one day at the cafeteria table, and someone spilled the beans. She wasn't mad.

The best part was when she demanded, "How many people knew that I ate a napkin before I knew!?"

More than 15 people raised their hands. And those were just the people at the table.

We sent packages of napkins to her in the college post office box for days.

And occasionally when my friends and I have a food party, I point to the napkins and say, "Becca snacks."

I love the fact that my friends are good sports.

This was legendary.