I Say Potato....

Spend the last 15 miles of the ride thinking about crisps, it's been a hot one, face caked in horse-sweat, and salts need replenishing.

Crisps.

And the greengrocers had a basket full of nearly out-of-date ready-salted by the door going cheap last I looked.
Crisps.
I can cycle to the door, grab a bag, throw them some money and be off without breaking cadence.
Crisps.
Roll up to the greengrocers door, crisps.
No crisps.
The basket of discount joy has disappeared.
No crisps.
Silent internal scream. Revert to suddenly formed Plan B.
Chips.
Pedal up the road to the chip shop. Chips are just bigger fatter crisps, right? And hotter. And maybe more of a meal than a snack... but that's all just semantics.
Chips.
"Open or wrapped?"
"Open please" Duh.
Chips.

Sat outside in the sunshine, oblivious to late-afternoon shoppers giving me a look, as the salt-drenched carboey goodness doesn't touch the sides.

Hmmm, chips.

Should have got large.