By James Bates

A little bit of heaven right here on earth, that’s what it was, my love for Doritos, specifically Nacho Cheese. But that little bit of heaven came crashing down hard the day doctor Anderson gave me the test results.

            “Sorry, Jay, it’s bad news. You’ve got celiac sprue, a gluten intolerance. You can’t have any of that stuff you like to eat, especially Doritos. You’ve got to quit right now or they could kill you.” He shook his head, commiserating with me. “Maybe try, I don’t know, raisins?”

            Well, shit. From heaven to hell in the blink of an eye. It was the last thing I wanted to hear, however I had no desire to die, so I did as he asked. I even tried the raisins, but they didn’t hold a candle to my treasured Doritos. In short, I did my best.

            Until recently.

            I’d been Dorito free for nearly five years, doing a good job keeping my craving at bay. Had I been tempted at times? Sure, lots. But I’d stayed the course, diligently following my doctor’s orders, being a good boy. Or did, that was, until I unfortunately came across a stray bag in the back of an old stash cupboard in the garage. Bam! An explosion of overwhelming desire for those chips returned with such unexpected force, it almost brought me to my knees. The effect was immediate. I tried to turn away but couldn’t, drawn as I was to that red bag of crunchy goodness and cheesy delight. Oh, no, I silently screamed, don’t give in. I tried to hold fast, but couldn’t help myself. With trembling hands I reached for the bag, held it to my breast and caressed it, all the time thinking, just one won’t hurt, will it? Couldn’t I have just one little Nacho Cheese Dorito?

            Who was I kidding? The battle was short, and war was lost before it even began. I couldn’t help myself. Already salivating, I ripped the bag open, dug in and munched away to my heart’s content. I ended up eating them all, and you know what? They tasted even better than I had remembered. In fact, I’m heading for the store tomorrow to buy another bag, maybe two. I don’t care if they aren’t good for me, because there’s one thing I know for certain, I can quit anytime I want to. In the blink of an eye. Just like before. Probably.