Saturday, July 24, 2004
I Hate Diet Coke
So, I had to go to work today. Stupid. And I stop at the Starbucks across the street from my office for a nice Vanilla Latte. I'm usually not a Starbucks girl. Actually, I prefer my coffee from the Sev. I can even drink the stuff they make at work, but hey - it's Saturday - the receptionist isn't around to make it, and I couldn't be bothered learning how to make myself a cup in the monster industrial coffee maker. So, as I am walking briskly across the street with my steaming cup of Joe, I look down for a second. Damn! Coffee on the boob. I always get coffee on the boob. It's like a little shelf - storing up crumbs and drops of liquid throughout the day just in case I get caught in a mudslide and have to live in a cave for a few days without food or water. At least then I can suck on my shirt for sustenance. But I didn't actually spill my coffee on the boob. Nor did it jump out of the little drink hole as I first suspected. No. It was a faulty lid. The damn thing leaked right at the rim. The point of a To-Go cup is the fact that you have a lid. A lid that holds the liquid in the cup. This lid sucked. But that's not all. At lunch, I drive through the El Pollo Loco. I order a twice grilled burrito and a large Coke. A REGULAR Coke. After getting my food, I drive back to the office with my Coke between my legs. This is of course because I drive a tiny sports car. Cup holders are apparently not cool enough for the car's manufacturers so I have to suffer through scorched thighs on a daily basis - but I digress. I park my car and grab my food. Bitches! Coke in the crotch. Seriously. A faulty lid. The Coke just leaked from the rim of the cup onto my lap as I drove. What's the point of the lid? Must I repeat it here? Now, this is twice in one day. I look like a lactating peeing freak. The kicker of it all is: it was Diet Coke. I hate Diet Coke.