What’s with the airline peanuts? You’re cruising at 30,000 feet, the air is dry, your ears are popping, and they hand you this *tiny* bag. A bag designed specifically to defy human attempts at opening. You tear at it, you rip it, you twist it, and then *poof*! Peanut dust everywhere. All for maybe, what, twelve peanuts? And they’re always the same kind! Where are the spicy ones? The honey roasted? Are we to believe that at this altitude, only plain, standard peanuts can survive? And then you’re left with this pathetic pile of crumbs in your lap. Is this sustenance? Or just a cruel joke from the sky?
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