You're in a nice hotel. A luxury hotel. It's evening, perhaps after a long day of meetings followed by "dinner with colleagues" (shoot me now), and all you want to do is jump into that clean, beautiful, luxurious queen bed, kick the covers loose, and lie splayed across and diagonal.
You're finishing up in the bathroom. You're washed and moisturized and perhaps wearing something light to sleep in. Your teeth are brushed—the final step. Ahh! Smack, smack.
You trip lightheartedly out to your bed and... on the pillow... there's a... mint. Noooooo, not a miiiiiinnnt.... Ohhhhhh.... An Andes mint. (Are these manufactured solely to be put on pillows in hotels?)
Of course you want the mint. It's minty, chocolatey. It's lying on your pillow, beckoning. Hoping to get intimate with your freshly brushed teeth. The amount of calories in it couldn't possibly hurt you.
I've never been able to resist the mint. Then later I give in to the internal pressures and brush my teeth again. I'm complex like that.