Sweatpants Nachos

There are public nachos and there are sweatpants nachos.

Public nachos care about layering. They think about distribution. They’re aware of witnesses. Sweatpants nachos do not acknowledge an audience.

These are not plated. They are assembled. Possibly on a baking sheet. Possibly on something that used to be a plate but is now a surface. The cheese situation is uneven and no one is correcting it.

No garnish. No spacing. No architectural ambition. If one chip absorbs too much heat and folds into itself, that’s between it and gravity.

You are horizontal. The lighting is low. The expectations are lower. You’re not chasing the perfect bite. You’re just reaching in and accepting whatever configuration the plate offers.

Sweatpants nachos don’t try to impress. They don’t try to last. They exist for the duration of the couch and then they’re gone.

And that’s enough.