Dear Olives,

Yes, Chris sliced our cheese with a spork. On the flight back to San Francisco our picnic was a bunch of Dunkin Donuts. It didn’t look as classy, but it was TEN TIMES AS AWESOME. 

Last week I read this article about packing a picnic for your flight. So for an upcoming trip to Chicago, I went into my favorite Italian grocery store, and I bought crackers, pepper jack, fancy chocolates, and you – you salty, wonderful, scrumptious, perfect olives. And I guess I'm writing to apologize that you didn’t make it to the airport. You didn’t even make through the seven minute walk to my apartment. You looked too tasty. I had to eat you. Maybe you’ll make it on next weekend’s flight to Utah

(unlikely).

I love you,

the impatient eater