Blog: Seeking Cheetos

I had this entire bit about escaping a war-zone, having XXTra Flamin’ Hot Cheetos as the prize, then trying one with you, the reader. My wife said it wasn’t the jam, so I cut it. If you’re wondering why this blog about chasing Cheetos doesn’t have explosions, blame her.

Finding and eating spicy Cheetos has been an obsession for weeks now. I blame “Agent P,” a fellow homeschooling survivor. He fired off the challenge nonchalantly: review Spicy Hot Cheetos. Without thinking, I agreed. It turns out he’s the guy who uses Hot One’s The Last Dab sauce willy nilly, but I knew nothing about his dark obsession then.

It began innocently enough. Hot Cheetos were easy to find. I popped the bag, firm in the faith that I could handle them. I took a handful and slammed it in my gob, then waited. I chewed more, swallowed, and awaited destiny. Finally, I shrugged. The heat wasn’t even unpleasant, just a warming tingle on my tongue.

This “hot” was less than demanding on my toughness. My masculinity received no dings, no scratches. I stood tall, honestly surprised by my own tolerance.

Next came Flamin’ Hot Limon and to be fair, the sting and little dash of flavor brought me a different experience; one of understanding, maybe humility. I didn’t find the first bite a problem, but I inhaled through a mouthful of spicy, puffy bits. There I felt the wrath; Limon came ready to rumble. I finally understood that moment, in so many Hot Ones episodes, where the guest grasps the sheer infinite spice-scape. It burned, far past warm tingling, and I had to breathe during the internal inferno, making it spiral inside like some spicy, spectral screwdriver.

This, friends, is where my journey became DESTINY weird. (For the uninitiated, Destiny is a free game that costs almost $200, somehow defying reality.)

There was a literal blizzard coming as I headed out to complete my quest. The temperatures with wind chill went as high as -40 degrees Fahrenheit for a day or two. This dip in degrees led to people overreacting, and it showed, like someone’s shock in a Sunday comic strip.

I walked into the nearest Walgreens with high hopes. I’d seen XXTra Flamin’ Hot Cheetos there before. Rounding the last corner, I saw a kid stealing, or maybe just texting something embarrassing. Another kid, one aisle away, was holding a stuffed animal so big it was literally impossible to steal, and they weren’t embarrassed at all. Oddly, there were NO XXTra Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. The weather was falling apart as I went to the gas station nearby. I knew it would sate me: gas stations have something for everyone, that’s how their magic works. The wet bathrooms are just a by-product of greatness.

Denied again. Target was minutes away, and the temp was descending towards madness. Icy hell grew in strength all around me. I was running out of time.

The puff of orange pain beckoned me even further into the cold. Defying fear, I felt a tiny spark inside me, something beyond crackling snack bags. Strange, but I’ve seen weirder things. I don’t judge stuff like I used to.

Target was my last shot of the night. The city was closing up for the bitter chill. People were scuttering around with worried faces on. My joints creaked like a the Tin Man in Wizard of Oz as I shuffled inside. Slamming me was this weird emotion. Something both negative and positive. I almost knew, there and then, that XXTra Flamin’ Hot Cheetos were sold out. I wasn’t expecting totally empty shelves, but they stared back at me. Blizzard buyers had annihilated the whole chip aisle, fearing the icy end times. 

I was too late.

Or perhaps I was right on time to miss those burning orange treats. Destiny NEEDS losers. Staring at shelf after shelf of chip oblivion, I knew this wouldn’t be so easy. I walked to my car filled with inner warmth, blessed by something greater than chips. I had a silly mission.

XXTra Flamin’ Hot Cheetos became my white whale, my one-armed man. A few days after the super-freeze, people said they had XXTra Flamin’ Hot suffering for me, but didn’t. I went to store after store finding that out for myself. I set hunt boundaries in response: I would not order the puff and have it delivered by Amazon or eBay, even DoorDash. I began checking the big store apps regularly. Target said “It’s out of stock AND can’t be ordered.” All my local spots hadn’t gotten fresh bags either.

Walmart seemed an option online, so I tried in person. The Blue and Yellow fellows swore they had my needed snack. I dared to hope. I looked everywhere, end caps and small snack aisles, traipsing all over the Big W. No XXTra agony puffs, and no news on when they’d be back in stock. No XXTra Flamin’ Hot spots anywhere.

No hope.

I began staking out Target and Bakers next. I’d check one store, then the next, night after night, casing both. Yes, I began stalking the product, walking those aisles like a time-travelling robot. Speaking of, I still haven’t seen Terminator.

Bored by defeat, I even started a Hot Sauce testing journey because I felt so defeated by XXTra Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. Sauces quickly filled the hole where XXTra belonged, and I slowly let go of the chase. Frank's Hot Sauce and some Black Truffle sauce made me feel warm inside, and not just from Scoville units gracing my guts.

When I’d finally forgotten about the Cheetos, by two or three days, I finally saw them. Like romantic love, or creative ideas about blogs, one must let go to catch the dream.  Strolling Target with my family, the hot sauce aisle called to me. Of course it offered me options for my brand-new sauce quest, but didn’t pull my hands from my pockets. I was content to look around.

My feet took me past the chip aisle on the way out. The same one ransacked during the blizzard. It was overflowing, bags upon bags sticking out. I bolted over in a sudden change of pace, doubtful but overcome by childlike curiosity. Maybe all this new stock carried an end for my old quest.

There, stuffed between other bags and flavors, I saw the colors I’d been hunting for days. To my surprise, my heart didn’t jump. It just kept up normal beating. All was well in my world, and I’d already let go. That moment in Target, all was well with my soul, and I knew I was whole without XXTra Hot Flamin’ Cheetos. Encouraged by my family, I grabbed them anyway, just so I could write this fully.

This blog is immediately outdated.

I felt honored to do something so simple, so small.

Perhaps it’s proof that if you say “yes” to even tiny quests, you might find reasons to smile. There’s stuff we should all say “nope” to: (insert your favorite hated thing here), but maybe a chip quest is just the right speed for you. Maybe someone you know needs to hunt down a very specific snack cake.

Some obscure bean dip.

We could all use a smile, right? I got mine from hugging a crinkly bag full of pure, salty suffering.

Good talk.