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.
What’ll it be?
My journey to become a stand up comedian leads me to bars 5-6 times per week, and I don’t want to be drinking almost everyday of the week for both health and personal finance-related reasons, and so I order a Coke. That’ll impress the ladies, eh? What are you having? A Heineken. You? A coke with ice and this nifty pinstriped bendy straw.
Damn you, Obsolete iPhone!
I never liked beer. The taste made me wince when I was a kid; I figure that’s our evolutionary physical response saying, ‘Stop that shit right now.’ But then again, Big Mac’s taste exquisite…
I remember a job interview I had with the owners of a start-up IT consulting firm. Our last meeting was in a bar at 2pm on a Thursday, and I was the first to order. I ordered a Coke, and the other 3 partners ordered in quick succession, “Rickard’s Red, Rickard’s Red, Rickard’s Red”. I thought I lost the job right there and then. I said to myself, “That’s as good as ordering chocolate milk, you idiot…” I got the job. Coke, it turns out, is the modern man’s scotch.
Little did I know that the Coke was $4.00. Perhaps if I had the iPhone 4s with the personal assistant, Siri, I would’ve known that ahead of time and got more bang for my buck.
Master that Rubber Guard Fucko (kudos to Joey Diaz for that one)