If Snacks Were People You Knew And Tried To Love

Let’s play a game. It’s called “if snacks were people you knew and tried to love.” It’s a really easy game, and you already know the rules, so I’m not going to explain them. This is the kind of game you play with only your closest friends because they know you already and won’t refer you to a psychologist to manage your hallucinations. These are not hallucinations. It’s called creativity, and even boring capitalists are allowed to occasionally enjoy being this playful and free. Plus, whatever, I’m hungry.

Why can’t we just be ourselves and play silly games where we personify snacks and laugh and laugh and laugh? You think I can just run ultramarathons without mountains of snacks and being entertained by ridiculous games I play in my own head?

Anyway, let’s get on with it. IT’S SNACK TIME.

Trail Mix

Trail Mix is the prettiest girl in school, who got asked to the prom by like 50 guys who aren’t friends with each other, or who are “friends” because they played on the same Little League team together in elementary school and their moms sometimes ask “How’s Chris Pittman doing?” But they’re not really friends. And if it came to blows over who got to date her, these dudes would get brolic over Trail Mix.

Look, man, I get it. Trail mix is so pretty, and everyone loves her. Everyone wants to be with Trail Mix. She’s got everything you ever wanted. She’s the whole package. It’s a shame there aren’t more snacks like Trail Mix because honestly, world peace might be possible if the boys in high school didn’t have to compete over girls and they could all just have Trail Mix. Or at least that’s what we’ve been led to believe. It’s the same reason girls aren’t allowed to wear tank tops, I think.

Apples

You used to have a thing for Apples. So wholesome, so nice, so pure. But you realized that Apples are kinda boring, kinda bland, not bringing all that much to the table. Have you tried Mango? Dried Mango or raw Mango or Mango on a stick with chili powder all over it, it doesn’t really matter. Once you’ve had Mango, you can’t really look at Apples and be like, “Yup, that’s who I want to end up with.” But you and Apples could have something really nice. It could be special if you put in the work. You could add some cinnamon or peanut butter, and then all of a sudden, Apples are a brand new snack. And maybe you love Apples again?

You do love Apples. But sometimes Apples let themselves go, and they get mealy and flavorless and really let themselves go. So, sometimes it’s hard with Apples. They have to want this too. You can’t be the only one trying.

Chips

Chips are hot jocks who make poor choices. We all know this, and yet, here we are in the Chip aisle again, wasting our goddamn time. Yes, they’re fun when you’re with them, but it never leads anywhere and it’s never satisfying. Maybe it’s fun for a while—I don’t doubt it—but maybe you’re cheapening your OWN value when you spend time with Chips. Maybe your friends tell you that because they’ve been there too, but maybe you need to learn these lessons on your own, kid. Maybe you don’t learn things until you learn them the hard way.

Chips are greasy and crummy and not worth your time. I know. They’re very hard to resist. Everyone winds up with Chips for a while, but in the end, there’s always an end. And that’s for the best.

Granola Bars

Theeeeese lyin ass motherfuckers. Granola Bars want you to think they’re these stand-up guys with good values. A hearty, foundational snack. Good for the kids! Put ’em in a lunchbox! Pack ’em for a hike! Share them with your family! They’ve got good, stable jobs, right? They’re packaged well, right? They’re gluten-free and that has to count for something, right?

But if you’ve had Granola Bars for a while, you already know. These clowns are a dime a dozen. They don’t taste good. They’re not good for you. All they do is sow their wild oats and fuck up your Saturday plans. They’ve done nothing, brought nothing. And now you’re still hungry, covered in their dumb-ass oaty crumbs, and wondering why you even wasted your time.

Cheez It

Your friends set you up with Cheez Its. They thought you’d be compatible. You love cheese! They are cheese! They are shelf stable and available, and in this crazy, mixed-up world, maybe that’s enough. Your friends love you and just want you to be happy for once. Maybe this could be it. Maybe this could be a perfect match.

So you meet Cheez Its, and they tell you “Actually, it’s Cheez It, singular,” and you apologize and say “Sorry, Cheez It,” and it’s only a little awkward, but you push past it and keep trying because you care about your friends who care about you, and you want to see if this could work. Give it the ol’ college try, or whatever. And you do. You honestly try with Cheez It. And yes, so many people tell you how GREAT they are, how great you are together and what-not. But you’re just kinda not into Cheez It. Years later, you see Cheez It having a great time at a party and everyone is just LOVING them, and they look so happy and you’re happy for them. Because even though you’re alone, you know you made the right choice. You can’t force love, ya know?

15-30 Spoonfuls of Crunchy Peanut Butter

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You had big dreams. You had self-esteem. You wanted to be somebody. But now here you are, standing at your kitchen counter with a full-size spoon—like a whole-ass soup spoon, not a dainty little dessert spoon—and just shoveling Crunchy Peanut Butter into your face. You can’t stop yourself.

Fancy people have told you to try Almonds. But you’re not made of fucking money. And you’re not fancy, either. You love Peanut Butter. Who needs snobby, gallon-chugging Almonds when you could just have America’s Sweetheart? They were good enough for Jimmy Carter, and they’re good enough for you.

You thought maybe you could have just one spoonful. You thought it was just an innocent spoonful, something you could try once. You thought you could enjoy it casually and then move on with your life. But now you’re double-dipping your spittle-riddled spoon into the same jar over and over again. You’re fucking shameless, you know that? A total mess. But maybe you just love too hard. Is that a crime?