The whole thing is pretty bizarre, really. I
know I'm only one in a million who share in the addiction, but I can trace my involvement with Diet Coke back to before my birth. The story is that my grandma -- back when her children were still children -- had a magic trick played on her, a trick in which a cockroach crawled out of a Pepsi bottle. It grossed her out, and my family has since favored only Coca-Cola.
I grew up in the days of "New Coke" ("Coke II"), when Coca-Cola modified its recipe, and my father, if I remember correctly, hoarded bottles of the original Coke in our kitchen and closets, in fear of its disappearance. I grew up on Coke; and with the exception of a few bouts with orange soda, I never looked beyond it for the ideal beverage.
The first time I sensed something was amiss was during my first year here at Dartmouth. Both of us clearly prone to sweetness, bubbles and caramel coloring, my roommate and I put our excessive Diet Coke and Coke drinking (respectively) to good use. We used the empty boxes to make striped wallpaper: red, silver, red, silver.
And sadly, that's when I realized I was in the minority. Pepsi no longer an issue, the debate became one over sugar or sweeteners, red or silver, diet or regular. The girls in my hall, who were eager to help with the wallpaper, unanimously endorsed diet, while I struggled to pull my weight in red, regular boxes. Eventually the wallpaper became so unbalanced that I decided to turn in my resignation.
The wallpaper, combined with my mother's fears of me drinking too much sugar, pushed me to do an experiment, to try drinking the hideous lesser-than, the artificially sweetened Diet Coke. And although it was tough for awhile, I eventually grew immune to the aftertaste and made Diet Coke my own.
Now, I would never imagine drinking anything else, for I am forced to believe that Diet Coke is none other than the nectar of the gods, the only thing that remains of past mystery and luxury, the only part of a superior future yet to make itself known on earth.
So I think it's pretty crappy when people refer to it as "gross" or "an addiction" or "something you're not supposed to drink for breakfast."
Even though I've never been able to actually quit drinking it, I'm convinced that Diet Coke cannot be addictive, at least not in the negative sense. It's not just the caffeine; anyone who's tried to quit the Diet Coke knows that you'll just as easily get sucked into caffeine-free Diet Coke. It's not just the flavor; there are lots of similarly flavored sodas out there, none of which provoke the same devotion. The list could go on and on. Diet Coke is a whole that cannot be broken into parts. It shouldn't be.
It's also important that everyone realize that Diet Coke is a perfectly acceptable part of breakfast. I often wake up looking forward to that cool refreshment, just as many people look forward to warm, soothing coffee. It's the same thing. And it's not gross, I swear. It's not an addiction. It's a passion.
Since jumping on board the Diet Coke train, I've made and cemented such strong friendships with people I may never have had the opportunity to get to know so well. And I thank Diet Coke. If you've ever maniacally run to the store for a Diet Coke, or if you've hidden a few in the back of a refrigerator to prevent anyone else from stealing one, then you will understand a little bit about how someone standing around with a Diet Coke in hand is feeling.
Last year, I lived with a friend whose stash of the manufactured, sugar-free nectar stood next to mine. (We rarely shared because it can get stressful if one person is having a bad week and thus a high-consumption week, and also because she prefers the 20-ounce bottles whereas I like the 16.9-ouncers. We think there's a flavor difference.)
Anyway, this friend of mine was always there (with a Diet Coke) when it mattered. She knew the odds for all under-the-cap contests and had wonderful visions of a goal to move from one Diet Coke to the next all with under-the-cap free-soda winners. We stood up for each other when people accused us of "drinking too much of it" or for "being nasty" with all of the diet soda.
We were friends. Diet Coke friends. Partners in nastiness (because really, very little is more disgusting than artificially sweetened, caffeine filled, chemically flavored carbonated water), we learned to cope with life not only by drinking Diet Coke, but by drinking it with each other.
And in that vein, I will continue to smile at fellow Diet Coke holders. And I hope they will do the same. For Diet Coke is a special kind of soda with a special breed of consumer. We're stressed. We're loyal. We can't handle anything (which is why we often waste so much time overanalyzing soda). And we're thirsty. We're the descendants of gods, the forerunners of the future.