Funny that two things I only kind of like create something I don’t like. I was talking to a Pakistani friend of mine at his gas station about an acquisition he’s interested in. It’s quite a purchase, and he asked me if it would be “good for [his] future,” or if I could find out… Like all I had to do was go ask the real estate agent. We talked for a while about some things, and some other things, and he had a customer come in, so I quickly stepped aside. When I did, I was met with this. I had heard about it, but never did really think twice about spending one and a half of my hard-earned dollars on one of these bad boys. Until it stared me in the face from it’s teeny tiny fridgy thing atop the counter next to the soft drinks, and I told it “you look cold, and it’s hot outside; may I buy you?” and it said “of course,” but in a more uncouth way, because I don’t see Coca Cola Blak saying anything like “most certainly,” or anything. My friend and I spoke a little longer, and he asked me to keep my eye out for land for sale. I told him I would and I was on my way. The bottle, covered in a plastic label shrunk so tight you couldn’t even tell it was there, was cold to the touch, and I cracked it open. It did a dramatic steam, bubble thing, like you’d expect to come out of the three witches’ cauldron in the first act of Macbeth. I took a sip, and that alone did not change my mind. I took another, and contemplated, but the simple fact was that the complex flavors and tastes were not being released because the beverage was too warm. I got in the car and had a Chick-Fil-A cup with only the ice left in it, and poured it in and stirred. Once colder, the essence of the drink came to be, and it tasted less like an exact mix of 50% coffee and 50% regular coke as much as it tasted like a coffee jelly bean. I don’t know, but it certainly can’t touch the Thai tea that Horse’n’Buggy thinks tastes like sticks. It’s nowhere near as good. So, after drinking nearly the entire bottle in an effort to like it, (as I was not repulsed by it so much as confused) I was home and poured the rest down the drain. I set the bottle next to the sink, though, because it looked cool. I kept the cup, as it was Styrofoam, and filled it with ice, poured a healthy portion of half and half over the ice, topped that with a few packets of Splenda ®, as it dissolves in cold beverages and sugar does not (no matter how much you stir), and poured the remainder of that morning’s lukewarm coffee over this concoction. I was left with a delightful iced coffee drink. It pleased me, and eliminated the jelly bean-ness left over from the other drink.
The conclusion of this is, as I stated at the beginning, and repeat (as any convincing writer does at the end of a persuasive dissertation) that Coke, which I only like on certain occasions (mostly when someone else is drinking one and it’s chilled and somewhat diluted [and only matched with the perfect meal]), and coffee, which I’m trying to convince myself to like (but can’t because I’m told that the coffee I drink looks like melted vanilla ice cream: just as sweet, and just as light), together make something I am not fond of. I should have known this from the beginning. A lesson learned.