When I first roll out of bed, it nags at me like a hangnail.
“Come get me, you know you need me. You know you can’t make it an hour without me,” it whispers knowingly in the back of my mind.
I look around my house in odd corners hoping to find a couple of quarters or dimes. If I can’t find enough there, I lift up my car seats and scour underneath to find the right amount to pay for my it.
Once I find enough change, I get into the car. I don’t brush my teeth, I don’t bathe, I simply put the car in drive and get there as quickly as possible.
Please no red lights this time, I’m running out of time. Oh shit, I forgot to pee when I got out of bed. Yes, my addiction is so strong, it makes me forget the incredible urge of first morning pee.
I pull in, there are a few people in line and I hope it doesn’t take long. I rudely bump into someone as I make my way.
No time for “pleasantries” or “excuse me,” I must get there before I have to wait any longer. My head is beginning to ache and my body withdrawals since my last visit.
There it is, I grab the shell and begin to fill it with a cascade of chunky coldness. Once half full and freezing, I place it underneath and press the magic lever.
Out rolls a beautiful stream of fluorescent nectar that fills the shell to the very top. I securely place on the plastic lid and insert the straw.
Finally, transported to another world where no one cries and everyone is happy.
Dear God, dear Allah, dear Krishna, dear Zeus, I can’t stop. I love you Mountain Dew, you are my everything.
Hello, my name is Duh’Merica and I have a problem.
(For a tribute I wrote a while ago, please click on this: Ode to Mountain Dew, I promise it will make you laugh.)