Soda Pop and Hostage Negotiation

I couldn’t do it tonight. I just could not. I did not have another hostage negotiation dinner in me tonight. 

So I got pizza and wings from Fat Daddy’s. I’ve never gotten their pizza, but I like their dry wing options. 

The pizza sauce was a little sweet for me. I’m still firmly in favor of Napolis violently overthrowing the pizza market in this town. It’s just the only acceptable pizza situation in this zip code. 

But for wings, Fat Daddy’s has me hooked. 

It was cheaper to get the pizza and wings deal than to buy the two separately, so that’s what we did. Thing is, it came with a two liter.

Soda. 

Ugh. 

I suffered from, I think, one of the world’s worst Coca-Cola addictions. Seriously. That shit is just as dangerous as crack. 

It’s just like drinking happiness. The dopamine receptors in my brain just start drooling and lighting up like pinball machines at the mention of an ice cold Coke. In the can, not the bottle. 

My grandma and grandpa, the hard-ass Germans I talk about in columns a lot? Coke for days in their fridge. 

Speaking of columns

My mom always had Diet Coke. I drank more diet Coke as a kid than water for sure.  Both were hardcore devotees of the can over the bottle. 

I never got down for the Diet Coke business. Something about the artificial sweeteners. I can’t do it. They give me headaches and it just tastes like someone forgot to sweeten the Coke but inexplicably remembered to crush up a bottle of asprin and dissolve it in the cooking vat. 

No thanks. 

I’d rather give up the day’s meals and enjoy a real Coke, thank you kindly. 

The girls do not ever get soda. If they’re sick, I’ll give them ginger ale. A little bit of it. But my kids get excited when they come home to find I’ve splurged on Gatorade. We have bottles of water in our fridge. Milk. 

Not gonna lie, I often have some orange juice and tonic to add to a little coconut rum after bedtime, if it’s been that kind of a day. And there is always a bottle of wine. 

Almost always, there is wine. 

But we don’t drink soda. 

So tonight I plated up their pizza and dumped a glass full of Pepsi in front of them. Just for the sake of science. 

It was pretty damn funny. Those blue glasses are about twice the amount of ginger ale I’d give them, plus change, if they were horking. 

I wondered what they’d do.

I swear to God I watched the dopamine drip into their brains. Like, their eyes perceptibly glazed over. 

It was sick. One glass is almost entirely full still. The other is just under half. I’m going to dump them in a few minutes, if they don’t remember they’re here. But I wanted to get their impressions of real cola (honestly, Pepsi is a gross bastardization of Coke, but you take what you can get). 

Behold, the results: ​

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