An Open Letter to Doritos/Frito - Lay

What’s up Frito-Lay?  I have been a huge fan of your products for a very very long time and well, my dudes, we need to have a talk.   

I grew up in what I consider the golden age of junk food (aka the 80s). I have enjoyed almost all things Frito-Lay as long as I have been able to chew.  Unfortunately, I don’t get the pleasure of having the same metabolism that I did when I was a kid, so now in my 40s when I allow myself the treat of a bag of Doritos (the Taco flavor are legit my favorite), you can imagine my disappointment when I recently opened a snack-sized bag and there are a total of 6 regular sized tortillas and 22 smashed pieces in various sizes but each smaller than a normal tortilla chip. 

Now, I snagged these at Publix.  It was an impulse purchase this morning on my way to host an Open House.  It was a 2 for $1 promo at the POS.  I had wanted some earlier in the week but was unable to grab any, so I grabbed these two bags as I purchased my open-house snacks as well. I didn’t want to get cheesy before my open house so figured I’d have them with the hamburgers my dad was going to grill for dinner.  I figured we could both have a bag (he’s visiting for the week, 81, and deserved a treat too). 

My dad was able to have his burger before me, so he ate his bag first.  I honestly have no idea how many chips were in his bag.  I didn’t ask or bother to look.  It’s not something you really think about.  Well, about two minutes ago now, I finally sit down for dinner and open up my bag of Doritos and I look inside.   

I have attached a picture of the disappointment that I found inside.  I have since counted, and as I stated above, there were 6 full-sized tortilla chips and 22 smashed pieces in various sizes yet all smaller (much smaller in some cases) than the regular Doritos-sized tortilla chips.  

When I was growing up, the worst thing my Dad could say to me was “Jessie, I’m very disappointed in you.”  Seriously, those words were devastating to me.  Instant regret, lesson learned, I will never do whatever it is I did ever again.   Frito-Lay, I say this because I love you and I want the best for you.  I say what I am about to say because I want you to change and above all I want you to WANT to change.   I never understood the need for the extra air in the bag of chips when I was younger but I will say this much: when we opened those bags as wussy little 8-year-olds at summer camp, those amazing, cheesy Doritos would pop open and spill out.  

There was air in the bag, but they would STILL pop out and you’d want to open them over your tray so they didn’t end up on the floor or the ground.  

Doritos, Frito-Lay, I am VERY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU.  This world sucks enough.  People are mean all over the place, the price of gas is stupidly high. Mortgages, rent, electricity, the cost of living is going up and up and up.  People are lying, people are dying, people seem to hate everything and everyone.  Everyone says that we should help one another and yet no one seems to. What little I have I share with whomever I can.  Like I said, I got 2 for $1 at Publix.  I gave the other bag to my Dad. (He just drove 14 hours from Kentucky to visit me.  He’s 81 by the way.  How awesome is that? But, I digress.) 

I open this bag of Doritos nacho cheese and look in the bag. It is decidedly light.  And then, because I’m neuro-spicy and partially because I’ve had a really rough 6 months and am kinda tired of the little guy getting crapped on, I decided that I would write this letter.  

Call me a Karen, whatever.  I prefer Veronica (as in Veronica in the movie Heather’s). Because it really shouldn’t be Karen, it should be Heather because that is just where we are.   Karen is old news.  Karen is in a 55+ community, living it up in central Florida complaining about the heat, humidity, gas, and insurance prices.   Heather is the new Karen.  But yeah, call me Veronica if you want but I just have to say: I expected so much better than this from you. 

Six tortilla chips.  And these tortilla chips, by the way, have been shrinking in size a whole bunch.  I remember these chips being much bigger just a few years ago.  Then there are the bits and pieces that were scattered in.   There are 22 of those pieces.   I’ve included pics of that too for ya.  

I’m not saying that I’m never gonna buy another bag of Doritos ever again.   That’d be dumb and I’d be lying.  I won’t be like some people out there that say they’re gonna never buy a product again because they’re disappointed. I’m not that dumb. I’m gonna keep buying Doritos and Cheetos and all the other things I love to munch on in your product line-up (Taco Doritos are my current favorite, FYI). I just want to tell you that six Doritos do not make a satisfactory munch session.  

I’m not asking for much, I just think that y’all could do a little better.  I want to open a bag of Doritos and get a small burst of dopamine, not the “aw man!” Feeling that I got when I opened this bag.  I was so disappointed!  And that was when the childhood trauma kicked in and the “oh man, Mom’s gonna think I ate half of em already!” feeling.  Double the disappointment with a side of guilt? I swear it makes sense in my brain.  

The point is, help us out, okay? Throw us a bone. We give you millions a year.   Maybe you could give us a few more chips?  We would definitely be grateful. 

XOXO,

Jess