The vending machine was out of root beer. I didn’t feel like taking a ride on the elevator to the basement to buy an overpriced root beer from the cafe in the basement.
I hit the button for Coke.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a Coke. Funny, that. The red aluminum can, so iconic in its calligraphic stylings, had passed completely from my life.
I popped the top. I heard the comfortable snap/fiss of an aluminium can opening.
I took a sip.
A strange taste, that! Why, it was… bitter. I could not recall Coke ever having been bitter before.
I took a swallow.
Why! This seemed lifeless. Was Coke lifeless?
Where was the excitement? There was nothing here. Not the sharpness of a root beer. Not the goodness of a cream soda. Have I outgrown the taste of the cola bean? I wondered.
It was a natural question.
I finished off the Coke. It never excited me. It was like meeting an old friend I’d realized I’d outgrown. We’d had good times once, but we’d gone our separate ways. I’d found a new crowd to hang with, and Coke wasn’t as daring or as edgy as he’d once been.
Life goes on.