Insatiable Chip Lust

My favorite kind of chip is Baked Barbeque.  Holy crap try them, they're amazing.

Tied for second place is Cooler Ranch Doritos, Nacho Cheese Doritos, Cheetos (do those count?), and Barbeque chips.  Third place is every other kind of chip except Fritos.

Last is Fritos.

Anyways, while going about my auditishness business last night, I noticed a bag of BBQ chips next to the guest computers.  It was folded over.  Meaning they probably weren't even stale.  I thought about these chips ALL NIGHT.

I wanted one.  Or all of them.  Would anyone notice?  They were just left there, unwanted and unloved.  Deep in my hobo-esque heart I desperately wanted to tuck them safely away in my bag, and then my belly.

I was ready to make my move in the early morning hours, ready to pounce like a wild cat on unsuspecting prey.

Then this fellow came walking down the hall, bucket of ice in hand.  He was giant.  This fellow was the second largest human being I'd ever seen, second only to memories of my obese grandparents (I'm pretty sure their weight was a little exaggerated from the mind of a six-year-old).  Okay, I'm not trying to be mean here - he was a very nice fellow who said hello and went on his way.  He made me think, though - whose hands were IN that chip bag before?  Were they sweaty?  Did they just pick their nose?  Were they sticky from licking off the bbq dusting?  If I continued to eat chips like I have a disease and chips are the cure, would my "few pounds higher than the number I want" turn into "few hundred pounds higher than the number I want?"


I left the chips alone.


I'm pretty sure that revelation's gonna leave me by the next time I go grocery shopping, but hey, I'll wash my hands first.

-Wednesday