man in cowboy hat, eating cheetos in walmart

I admit it.

I had junk food for breakfast.

While I usually sit down to breakfast (Go, me!), today I wanted the extra rest and slept till the last minute. Since I’m a starving mess in the morning, which is why I sit down to breakfast every day, I stopped at the store for something breakfast-y.

I knew I wasn’t there for a banana and a V-8.

I quickly narrowed down the choices and then debated: Cheetos or an Almond Joy?

I got both.

I had the self-restraint to pass on the “Big Grab” of Cheetos and get the “2 for $1″ tiny size, so that made me feel sort of under control. And I didn’t get the king-sized Almond Joy, either, but that was not by choice—they just didn’t have it.

I paid up, rounded out my poor choices with a Diet Pepsi from the machine outside, and left.

I had to eat quickly because the drive to work was all of maybe seven minutes, and I surely didn’t want to arrive looking like the junkie I was feeling like.

What I didn’t know was that I’d picked up Flamin’ Hot Cheetos instead of the regular ones.

Since I was driving stick shift, which means using pretty much all your limbs, and trying to drive responsibly by not taking my eyes off the road, I was taken by surprise when I poured in a mouthful of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.

At that point I was glad I hadn’t bought the “Big Grab” because I ate the whole bag anyway.

I’d planned to save half of the Almond Joy for later but after that surprise Cheeto attack, I felt justified in eating the whole thing.

I finished my radioactive breakfast right up, stuffed the trash in the bag, stuffed the bag under the seat, checked my teeth in the rear-view mirror, parked the car, and went inside to work.

Like everyone else at the morning meeting, I smiled and passed myself off as ordinary.

But really, I emerged this steamy summer morning from my old and un-airconditioned car with fire on my breath and chemicals in my system, in possession of a secret life. I was indulgent, extravagant, and rebellious, having thrown caution and good judgment to the wind, all before 9 AM on a workday.

Sometimes it just doesn’t get any better.

 

 



 

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