I order Coke instead of beer when I go to comedy clubs because it would be way too expensive and beer tastes icky. Alas, it’s pretty much the most pussy thing you can do when sitting on a bar stool. This is a series of posts documenting my neurosis surrounding ordering Coke.
I get a Coke – jeez, what’s worse than a grown man alone in a bar? A grown man alone in a bar with a Coke with a straw in it. I wonder if I remove said straw I my cool meter would go up; but then I realize that there is ice in the glass. They don’t use post production cooling additives in mead.
Who’s better than you? (Thank Joey Diaz for that one; he’s a hero)