Something I should probably not admit
Last night, I flew from Seattle back to Nashville. If there is one thing that I love about Southwest Airlines, it is the little travel snack box that they pass out to passengers. It is here, and only here, that I allow myself to indulge my secret shame.
Ritz. Cracker. Cheese. Sandwiches.
Oh yes, you know what I am talking about. The crispy, buttery, mouthwatering flavor of Ritz Crackers, coupled with cheese that has a texture akin to the dust from a moth’s wings. The packaging boldly claims, “MADE WITH REAL CHEESE!” but I know better. There is nothing legitimately “cheesish” about the filling, aside from the color – and even that is a bit too complex a shade of orange to be genuine.
I do the math, and I realize that each sandwich is worth 33 calories. I tell myself, “I will eat just one,” but it never turns out that way. I borderline inhale all 6 sandwiches, bringing me to a grand total of 200 calories of poison.
Crackers? Try crack.
And that is why I fly Southwest. Ding!