Why corn chips is the debbil

Every morning, around 10:30, I'm starving. When I'm in my home office, it's no problem. I go to our break room, grab a bagel and I'm good until lunchtime.
But this morning, I had a meeting in a bureau office, so when the munchies hit, I had to depend on a foreign break room.
When we take a break, I head down to the snack machines and consider the choices:

1. Doritos. Cheesy, salty, dependable. I've made meals of Doritos more often than I like to admit. But I have a bag of them at home, and besides, they dye my fingers and nails the life preserver neon orange that washing can't remove.
2. Cheetos. Also cheesy, salty, dependable. But less filling than chips AND they have the same finger-dying properties as the Doritos. Besides, in our college newspaper office, we hung a Cheeto on the wall one September. By December, the grease stain around it was about the size of a CD. Sure, I still eat and love Cheetos, but that's an image that haunts me.
3. Corn chips. Oh, corn chips! Salty, versatile. And perfect.

I grab the bag and head back to the small conference room in which my six colleagues and I are meeting.
A side note now about corn chips and my stomach.
I love corn chips and use them to scoop cheese dips so thick they could patch holes in walls, salsas that could clean silver and chilis that MUST be toxic.
My stomach, however, sometimes stages a revolt, choosing to strike with rally cries of burps.
And anyone who's eaten corn chips knows there's nothing like a corn chip belch.
The first burp drops about 20 minutes after I started eating the corn chips.
I manage to stifle the sound with a coughing noise, but am suddenly horrified. What can I do about the SMELL?!
I hold it in my mouth for a bit, then breathe in through my mouth, hoping to tame it before releasing it into the room.
Looking around, I try to figure a path for the foul, corn-chipped air. There are people sitting across from me and to my right. It'll have to go to my left.
After holding my breath for what seems to be an eternity, I lean as far back in my chair as I can without toppling over and open the side of my mouth and exhale.
Thank goodness.
Over the next 45 minutes, I repeat this process eight times.
It's very hard to actively participate in a training discussion under these circumstances.