While this could be a post about my recent visit to the doctor and the ensuing dietary recommendations, I’m not feeling particularly grrouchy, so I don’t see why I should make you endure a post complaining about not eating potato chips (at least not in my former quantity).
Instead, I’ll make you endure a post complaining about the difficulty in eating potato chips (quantity irrelevant). Confused? Conflicted? Confident? (yeah, dopey, but I needed another “conf” word and that’s what came to mind; work with me).
I don’t think I’m being revelatory when I tell you about the frustration I have with big bags of potato chips. Invariably, as you get about three quarters through the bag, the chips start getting smaller and smaller. It’s not that they are shrinking (a devious plan that would be!), it’s that they are more and more crushed and crumbled. By the time you hit about 80% in, there’s unlikely more than a few “real” chips left. That’s an awful lot of useless chips that I paid for!
I understand the nature of both the chip and the packaging combine to create the effect. Recogonizing the cause doesn’t diminish the frustration. If I have a big bowl of dip, I want my chips…all of them…to dip into it. As a classic lover of Lipton onion soup mix and sour cream as my dip of choice, there are not a lot of other uses for my limited shelf life dairy product other than those missing chips. It’s unacceptable.
It’s also uncanny that the crumbling happens almost exclusively in the big bags of chips. Buy the multi-packs of vending machine size bags and you get a near 100% return on your investment. But opening 8 bags in a row to get your required chip volume is silly. So it’s back to big bags of crumbled chips or (doctor recommended!) just saying “No!” to chips.
Which would make the bag I currently have in the pantry my final bag. Except for barbecues (where all doctor’s orders are suspended), it seems I’ll soon be down to my last chip!