He grabs for the bottle, his mind starving for cheap sugar, the thought to pour down the cold, sweet liquid and the effect it will have on his brain when the sugar buzz sets in is almost as good as the real thing.
Cold plastic bottle in hand, condensation forming where his hand isn’t touching, he walks to the cashier, part of him already wants to twist open the bottle and take a deep, refreshing, sip, but holding off on it is part of the process.
He plunks the bottle down on the counter top, a softened “thud” confirms that the bottle has made contact with the glass material of the counter. For a moment he is disappointed, he still remembers the “cling” that the old glass bottles made. The Cashier turns the bottle, scans the barcode, the computer beeps in acknowledgment, numbers scroll by on the green LCD to show the final sum: $1.67 including deposit.
He fumbles in his pocket and produces a shiny, new two dollar coin, he hands it to the cashier who does not even seem to notice him, despite taking his money. A few seconds later he is handed the receipt and change with a “Thank you, come again.” His mind must be playing tricks, he thinks he is hearing Apu saying these words, but the kid behind the counter is clearly not east indian. He shakes his head to clear it, grabs the bottle and heads for the door.
Waiting, still waiting. One step, two steps….. The doors open with a swishing sound. He’s outside. He stands in the sun for a second, then opens the bottle. He hears the plastic rip, the CO2 escape with a hiss. He tears the bottle cap free of the little plastic piece that catches it.
He raises the bottle to his mouth, take a gulp, and the moment the liquid hits his tongue he knows something is wrong. He swallows, takes another slower sip.
“This doesn’t taste right” he thinks. He swallows it slowly, raises the bottle to his eyes and sees in big large letters:
“Sugar Free”
