The Cheeto Road

Google Maps won’t show you The Cheeto Road, so I will. It’s the road you take when you live in a small, organic town and you want to Hoover down a bag of chips you impulsively bought at the gas station. Chips you want to eat in peace.

You see, in a small, organic town, being spied eating a bag of Cheetos in your car carries the same social death sentence as picking your nose. You will be seen, whether you realize it in real time or not. If the witness is male, he’ll likely respond with an awkward smile through the window, and call you “Cheeto” the next time he sees you at Whole Foods. If the acquaintance is female, she’ll shoot you the I-thought-I-knew-you look (which she’ll revive when she next runs into you…at Whole Foods.)

Here’s the code for The Cheeto Road: it’s no road. It’s a parking spot. That’s right, don’t drive and eat. You must remain in situ at the gas station where you went off the rails in the first place, or relocate to a place where no one will spot you. A church parking lot on Monday. A curb by a fraternity. A dance club at noon.

Now some may say, c’mon, Coco, who cares? You’re a healthy eater; enjoy your fried-orange-finger-food with pride. And I would agree. However, I don’t want the occasional bag of chips to define me. When someone passes you in a car, there’s no way to explain your fall from grace: the busy morning, the growling stomach, the half-off rack at Gulf. All he sees is your powder-coated fingers smudging the glass as you wave. Where is the Windex for unfair judgment (I mean the Seventh Generation biodegradable citrus window cleaner)?

The good news is two-fold: 1) Virtue’s goalposts are constantly moving. Organic’s out, local’s in, etc. Being bad just might be the new good. 2) People respect authenticity. Do you prefer PBR to the local microbrew? Or live for the now-endangered Sno Balls? Put it out there! Go ahead and order a Coke at the hipster gastropub if it’s what you really want. Unapologetic self-assertion can circumvent criticism and inspire others to be themselves. But it works best in person. The ‘noble iconoclast’ vibe doesn’t transmit through windshields and across traffic lanes. To detour local norms on the go, take The Cheeto Road. And let the chips fall where they may.