Ok… I mentioned this briefly in a previous post, but I always wanted to tell the story in more detail:
One of the things I love about working where I work is that they provide us with free cans of soda. I’m a Coke-drinker… pretty much exclusively. One mid-afternoon in January, I was enjoying a nice cold can of Coke, snuggled into my comfy Papasan chair in my office, working on my laptop. I put the Coke on my rug, next to me and would take a swig every so often.
You know how it is: when you first crack the can open and that glorious mist pops up… you take that first sip and it’s like you’ve stolen a drink from the nectar of the gods. From that point on, if you don’t finish it all in one sitting, the fizz starts to go flat and each sip over time becomes less and less satisfying. Finally, by the time you’re to the bottom of the can, you’re pretty much just chugging it to be finished with the experience and get it over with.
Such is the case with any soda. We’ve all just come to accept it and live with it.
This particular afternoon was different. It started out like any ordinary delightful Coke experience does, but over the course of the afternoon, the TASTE of the Coke seemed to change, not just the lack of fizz. By the end of the work-day, I figured, “let’s just chug the rest of this thing and go home.” By the weight of it, it felt like there was maybe a good quarter of the can left.
When I went for the last chug, the experience was unlike any other: It sort of felt like I was dumping a handful of delicious cupcake sprinkles into my mouth, but rather than accept their fate, THESE cupcake sprinkles decided to make a break for it and crawl desperately out of my mouth.
Ok… firstly, you’re probably wondering why there were sprinkles in my Coke. Secondly, you’re thinking, “how are they crawling out of your mouth? That sounds disgusting.” Both thoughts were running through my brain as the “sprinkles” proceeded to run out of my mouth and down my shirt.
As it turned out, they were ants… hundreds of them. Apparently, in a matter of two hours and in the dead of winter, an entire colony of ants had managed to find my can of Coke on the floor, tell all their friends in the county and crawl into my can, drowning themselves and unable to crawl back out. I never saw them crawl in, but as surely as you just threw up a little in your mouth, I saw them trying to get out.
I jumped up and down a few times, spit as many of them as I could into the trash and immediately began trying to condition myself psychologically that I wasn’t going to disown Coke as a result.
…I told you that story to tell you this one:
This evening I spent some time on the front patio, talking with my wife in-between her numerous daily phone calls, enjoying the nice weather and, naturally, a delicious Coke.
We came inside to watch some TV and I remembered that my Coke was still outside, sitting in its cup-holder on my chair. Two episodes of Arrested Development and one episode of Battlestar Galactica later, as I was taking my final swig, something smooth, about the size of a cigarette butt slipped into my mouth.
I spit the thing out and it started to vibrate in desperation. Once again, I had poured an insect into my mouth. This time, it was a poor, unsuspecting moth, drawn to the sweet smells emanating from the nectar of the gods.
That being said, if you mess around with their drink, don’t turn your back on it or you’re sure to find yourself prey to one of their practical jokes.
I’m sure Zeus and Hades are yuckin’ it up.