Remember being a kid? No? Then you’re probably old enough to appreciate this.

Growing up and being shoved vegetables in my face always seemed like it would be the least pleasant experience I’d ever go through from the perspective of prepubescent, sixteen-year-old me. I always dreamed of an escape from the dinner table and that sort of culinary water boarding.

I always dreamed of a land with candy cane lampposts and gum drop buttons. I drooled at the idea of whole day’s meals composed only of sugar and sweets. Little did I know that land of lore was no lie – it was very real.

And its name is the Craft Service table.

On nearly every set, you will find, without fail, a simple table topped with all variety of snacks. It’s meant to keep people fueled throughout the shoot, something to supplement the meal in the middle of the day.

Sure, every so often you’ll have a health-conscious Craft Service table, but that’s the exception to the rule.

That rule is that every thing on that table must be addictive and bad for you.

The usual suspects include that variety box of Frito-Lay potato chips that have more Nacho Cheese Doritos than Cool Ranch which makes no sense whatsoever because everyone knows Cool Ranch is better; cookies that aren’t from Bristol Farms or Whole Foods and will thus make you feel guilty about consuming them even though they’re made from the same stuff; and Quaker granola bars which only seem healthy because it has the word ‘granola’ in it.

Yes, there’s also a cooler full of soda (it’s always Coca-Cola, never Pepsi) but that’s not technically on the table. But yeah – diabetes.

Look, I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. It’s always nice working on a set with a well-stocked craft service table; those tables are an easy way to make your crew feel appreciated. The little things: there’s nothing bigger.

Uh-huh, that line was from Vanilla Sky. But that doesn’t make it any less true. And that line was sort of cribbed from The Social Network. I digress…

I love snacks. As I mentioned before, that table – it’s a childhood fantasy, realized. When that sort of thing is set out before you, how can you be expected to resist, really? It’s like someone is out to kill me in the least conspicuous way possible.

Inevitably, on any set that I’m on, if there is any window of time – however slight – I will drift back to that table and grab something to vacuum into my system. Disgusting. Yet absolutely delicious. I hate it, but I love it.

In short, working on movies will make you fat.

Oh, and keep that bag of Doritos away from me – I will eat it out of your fucking hands.