Sidewalk Stories: Flamin’ Hot Lovers Spat

Every picture tells a story — but sometimes you have to imagine it. Right now, spring is in full bloom. And so are heated lovers spats involving Flamin’ Hot Cheetos stomped into the sidewalk — a metaphor for the ages, indicative of a fiery passion that burned out of control.

At least, I think that’s what happened.

Unsolved Mysteries with Snack Foods

I was looking down at the ground as I normally do while trucking down the street on my morning Wawa walk. Nothing like squeezing in a half-assed attempt at exercise while getting a 24 oz. coffee!

That’s when I saw it: a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, mashed into the sidewalk. A crumbled cellophane bag lay several feet away from the scattered-and-brutally-battered contents.

Being an inquisitive sort, I wondered what chain of events led to such snack food savagery? My mind went wild, imagining plausible scenarios. Who defiles a perfectly good bag of crunchy, cheesy deliciousness with a kick, and then grinds these palatable puffs into dust on the concrete pavement? Was this an accident? Or an act of sheer malice?

Love Gone Stale: Snack Food Scenario Speculation

We’ll never know the true tale, lest some objective party come forth and spill the beans… Or snack foods, as it were. But we can speculate like Robert Stack coming out of the mist while ominous music plays.

Scenario 1: A Wrong Turn at Flavortown

At its most innocuous level, perhaps someone made a mistaken purchase, thinking they were plain Crunchy Cheetos. It’s an easy mistake, especially for a snack food novice. However, to have so violent a reaction as to empty the bag and pummel the offending snacks with brute force? Look, we’ve all had our share of disappointments in life. Hell, I’ll cop to having had a minor Menty B when Wawa was out of Gummy Peach Rings one time. But this?! This was a seriously unhinged response to purchasing the wrong type of Cheetos.

Scenario 2: Love Means Never Having to Share Your Snacks

Then it hit me like a gust of spring air: this act of wanton Cheeto destruction could only be the result of a lover’s quarrel. What else could provoke such a volatile response, prompting a crime of passion inflicted upon a hapless bag of snack foods?

I theorized that one member of the sidewalk super couple got pissed that the other possibly used the last of their debit card funds to selfishly purchase a flavor that only they liked. Does love truly mean never having to say you’re sorry, unless it involves purchasing Cool Ranch Doritos instead of Original Nacho Cheese flavor?

Scenario 3: Body Shaming-Induced Rage

Then there’s the possibility of low key emotional abuse and body shaming. Picture it: One of these lovebirds is happily munching away. The other looks over and says, “You really shouldn’t be eating those.”

Perhaps it was a well-intended remark, meant from a place of concern for their beloved’s blood pressure and sodium levels. That’s unlikely, as Flamin’ Hot Cheetos are typically the province of the young. We geezers know better and aren’t tossing spicy snacks down our gullets while out for a moonlight stroll.

It’s more likely that this (hypothetical, mind you) comment was a subtle dig at their partner’s weight. So, maybe they put on a few pounds? Fer chrissakes, we’re all just emerging from winter and everyone likely has some extra chub clinging to them right now. There’s no need to be fucking rude about it!

This is where I imagine the let-down lover turning to their partner, smiling sweetly and saying, “You’re right,” before absolutely losing their shit, showering their snarky sweetie with a hail of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. Orange dust, spittle, and a string of expletives punctured the late night air as the spurned snacker proceeded to angrily ball up the bag and then stomp the Cheetos into the pavement, much like their heart after their partner’s callous comments.

Scenario 4: Nothing Ruins the Mood Like Cheeto Fingers

Or did one half of the romantic pair attempt to hold hands with the other while their fingers were coated in Cheeto dust? That’s a definite boner deflator. Unless they let you lick the Cheeto dust off them first. (Kinky!)

Considering most folks don’t have weird food fetishes, this scenario likely turned even uglier if the Cheeto-chomper’s partner was a neat freak. You think you’re getting a tender moment under the stars as your beloved interlaces their fingers with yours, only to feel sticky Cheeto grit ground into the webbing between your digits.

Then, like the bastard offspring of Felix Unger and Elizabeth Taylor’s character in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, the skeeved-out sweetheart began howling with rage. They rip the bag from their paramour’s hands and empty its contents onto the sidewalk, grinding the mood-killing corn puffs into dust.

Lovers Spat: Unsolved Snack Snafus

The theories proffered here are mere speculation. Which story is closest to the truth? No one besides those present that fateful evening will really know what happened — kind of like Rashomon, but with processed cheese snacks. All we can hope is that these two crazy kids find a way to work things out before summer.

And as dawn breaks over a quiet Northeast Philly sidewalk, squirrels nibble at the scattered remains of a flamin’ hot love gone cold, enjoying a spicy start to spring.

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