Earlier this month, I lamented my dependency on caffeine. If I didn’t have such an extreme love for Coke, I shared, I’d ditch the drug completely.
I’ve successfully cut back — which isn’t that hard to do — and had my first bit of Coke in like a week yesterday.
Now, before I share this story, you have to know something about my brother, Joey. I’ve said before how much he loves regular Coke. In fact, if he could put a twisty straw in a 2-liter, that thing would be empty in less time than it’d take you to go pee. He’s a machine, so much so that Mom only gives him caffeine-free diet. Otherwise, he’d be 382 pounds and shaking like a cerebral palsy patient all. The. Time. Instead, he only shakes when I visit, because I drink caffeinated regular, and you can’t drink the good stuff in front of him without giving him some.
Now, Joey loves it when my parents have company, in large part to this fact: He gets the good stuff when everyone comes over. He especially likes it when new people come over. He knows they won’t guard their drinks, and it will be easier to:
- Steal their drink when they are not looking (this is how he welcomed my uncle Gary to the family) or
- Go “Eh?” as he holds out his empty cup and points to the regular Coke the newbie is drinking, only to have his cup filled from the newbie’s own beverage. He has done this with my boyfriend and my cousin’s boyfriend.
So yesterday I’m at the beau’s, and he has a fresh, new, bright and shiny 2-liter of Coke sitting there. “Why do you do this to me?” I asked him as I cradled the 2-liter. “You know I’m trying to cut back.”
“Yes, and that’s why you’re trying to cut back,” he said, pointing out that I had started to make out with the bottle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and I poured myself a small glass of Coke. Just one. And I finished it in record speed. I mean, this time might have put Joey’s time to shame.
At this point, I went into the living room to flip on “The Big Bang Theory,” and the beau called, “Are you done?” I said I was, and I went back in the kitchen a few seconds later.
I saw a cup with a few sips left in it. This exact thought-process went through my head: “Huh, I thought I finished mine. And where did all my ice go? I had put way more than three pieces in there. Whatever. Apparently, I left some, and that makes me a happy Jaclyn,” and I threw back the last sip or two.
As I was putting the cup down on the counter, the beau says, “Did you just drink the rest of my pop?”
Oh … that was yours? “At least Joey comes by it honestly,” I said.
I relayed the above story to my mother in an e-mail. Her response cemented that I will never give up Coke:
“The one thing (and maybe the only thing ever) you and Joey have in common is your love for Coke.”
Not true, Mother: We also have our unGodly big noses ❤