SHMOOTZ ON MY JAMMY-JAMS

I'm a sucker for chips and salsa. I find their siren song irresistable. I was at a party recently when I spied a bowl of the spicy condiment and an abundant supply of tortilla chips set out on the kitchen counter like a cornucopia of spicy, salty plenty. Without hesitation I crossed the room, strategically selected a chip with a slight bend and bowl shaped depression at one of its three corners, and then greedily dipped it into the bowl of salsa. As the chip emerged with its pay load of mouthwatering salsa I was faced with a difficult decision. Clearly I had dangerously overloaded the chip, and I could either return some of the salsa to the bowl or bring it to my mouth as quickly as possible before any of the precariously balanced goodness could slide off. This maneuver, which I call "the scoop and swoop," is the riskiest that chip eaters can attempt. Research is inconclusive, but most experts believe that the scoop and swoop is only succesful 60% of the time. Clearly it's not for beginners, but I am no neophyte, and 60% odds aren't terrible. I decided to give it a go!

I did the scoop and swoop by the book. I cupped one hand underneath to catch any dribbles, and then moved the chip toward my salivating mouth with the speed of a rocket in flight. However, to my great shame the manuever failed. Three distinct dribbles, like a reddish-orange archipelago, landed dishearteningly onto the front of my blue shirt. I grabbed a napkin and rushed to the sink. Dab. Dab. Dab. Surprisingly, although I am considered expert when it comes to the business of eating chips I have never mastered the art of stain removal- two areas that my experience tells me should go hand in hand. Not since Lady MacBeth has anyone experienced such difficulties in the area of stain removal. I returned to the party with the salsa stain screaming shame like a scarlet letter to all I encountered. I greeted a friend, and his eyes drifted involuntarily to the shmootz on my jammy-jams. Oh, the shame!