Hot licks

I need you, dear reader, to help me solve a mystery.

The curiosity I need you to ponder revolves around one of my fellow commuters, who every morning catches the train from Harrow-on-the-Hill to Uxbridge. This girl, who I would guess is in her mid-20s, clearly lives a very busy life, as she does not appear to have time to eat breakfast at home, but instead must eat on the go while sat on the Metropolitan line.

However, no Honeynut Loops or croissant and jam for our peckish passenger, oh no, for this coach-class connoisseur likes nothing more than to tuck into crisps for her morning sustenance. You may now be thinking that although it's not necessarily your choice of morning nutrition, you are happy to live and let live, and a packet of crisps is not that objectionable a petit dejeuner. But of course there is more.

It is not just one packet of crisps our subject gets through in the course of her journey, but several. Fine, I hear you say, people are often very hungry in the morning, after all breakfast is the meal which sets you up for the day. But here's the twist you've all been waiting for (and hold on to your own breakfasts folks because it's not a pretty picture), this traveling taster does not swallow a single crisp, but instead licks them thoroughly clean of flavour before disposing of them in a bag.

We're not talking modest little lapping here, or a gentle sucking, this is a full-on Gene Simmons tongue out, tiger cleaning its cubs lick-fest. Occasionally she does pouch one of the crisps, perhaps in an attempt to fool the casual observer into thinking she is prone to swallow, but without fail the fried spud slice reappears moments later as a repugnant soggy mulch, and is spat methodically on top of the others.

If you are a commuter you will know being slowly dragged towards your workplace through a sea of delays and sweaty packed tubes is never a pleasant morning experience, but this really takes the crisp. As my good friend and fellow witness to the saliva spectacle put it: "I'd rather watch a pigeon eating sick than her licking crisps with her lizard tongue."

I'm not picking on her, and in the words of Winston Churchill: "She started it." If she was going to keep her tongue tasting firmly behind closed doors I would have no problem, but to do it somewhere so public is to positively invite comment.

So, dear reader, here's the rub - why does she do it? What can she possibly be getting out of the bizarre practice? So far I have postulated the following theories:

- She is a crisp flavour developer who has found a way to work outside the office / lab.
- She has a child who loves crisps but is allergic to salt or artificial flavourings and she is an incredibly dedicated mother.
- She is hunting for the mythical Crisp of Parnassus, which legend says tastes like Jesus's beard and was hidden amongst the world's crisps by a secret covenant of monks led by Gary Lineker.

So which is it? I need your help - I am equally disgusted and fascinated and I cannot quell my curiosity until I know her motivation. Answers on a postcard (or the form below) and maybe I'll buy the best suggestion some kettle chips (flavour still on).