A Matter of Do or Diet

Hello.  My name is Ken.  And I’m a sodaholic.  To be more precise, I’m a diet sodaholic.  For most of my adult life I have been hooked on Diet Coke, Diet Pepsi, Diet Mountain Dew, Diet Sprite, you name it.  If you wrote the word “diet” on a bottle of dish washing liquid I would be tempted to drink it.  “But there’s no sugar!” I would proudly proclaim.  I convinced myself diet soda was healthier, despite the fact the list of ingredients resembles a recipe for motor oil. 

My family doctor tells me I should stop.  So does my neurologist, my urologist, my podiatrist, my dentist, my auto mechanic, and a guy at the gym named Gus who washes the towels.  So, God help me, I’m doing it.  I’m going cold turkey.  No more diet soda.  Instead I am determined to drink (ugh) water.  I don’t like tea.  Milk is for kids.  Alcohol is fattening.  So it’s water.  Just plain old water. 

Problem is, I hate water.  You can squeeze lemon into it, or drop a packet of Splenda into it, but it’s still boring old water.  I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to eating a bacon cheeseburger and french fries, and washing them down with…..water?  (ugh again)  Or enjoying a giant slice of pepperoni pizza topped off with a big gulp of….water?  How about a good ole southern barbecue plate with pulled pork, baked beans, cole slaw and…..water?  Yikes.  This is going to be hard. 

As I write this, I am in the first week of my new life.  I’m doing pretty well.  I haven’t had a diet soda all week.  Of course, it’s Monday morning but you have to start somewhere.  I think I’m going to be okay here at home.  But Sharon and I love to go out for lunch, and we can be regularly seen at Trussville area restaurants.  Our favorites include Edgar’s, Moe’s, Chicken Salad Chick, Full Moon and Zaxby’s.   

What do these establishments all have in common?  All of them allow you to draw your own drink after you order.  You learn a lot about yourself doing this.  Just how much will power do you have?  I give the nice lady behind the counter my food order, then I hesitate, struggling to get the next words out of my mouth.  After what seems like several minutes, I manage to groan in a low, pathetic voice “and I’ll just have water to drink.”  She gives me my cup and off I go to the drink machine.  This is the moment of truth.  It is hard enough to order water.  Unfair torture to have to tap it yourself.  

It would be so easy to push that Diet Coke button.  To savor that wonderful, carbonated mess flowing freely into my cup.  To slink away to my table and revel in my guilty pleasure.  But no, I won’t do it.  What kind of man would I be?  Surely I possess the inner strength and courage of my conviction to handle this moment.  So I do the only thing a real man would do.  I give my cup to Sharon and tell her to draw my drink, while I find a place for us to sit.  Hey, we’re not all cut out to be heroes.   

On the plus side, I have noticed that ordering water does have its financial rewards.  Most eating places are charging between two and four dollars for a drink, but nothing for water.  This can’t last forever.  A tightwad such as me (I prefer the word “frugal”) needs to take advantage of this policy.  It’s almost worth enduring the lack of taste.  Almost. 

Bottom line is, all of my doctors say switching to water will make you feel better, give you more energy, help you think more clearly.   

Well, it’s been nearly a whole day now.  I’m still waiting.