“Bite in! I said. The sound of crackling. Eliza giggled in the back. Her parents did not allow her to eat Doritos. I was her drug dealer, in this way. See? I said. What does it taste like? A Dorito, said a smartass in the front row. Cheese, said someone else. Really? I said. They concentrated on their chips. That good dust stuff, said someone else. Exactly, I said. That good dust stuff.”
