This past summer was a hot one; I was in constant need of hydration. Chugging glass after glass of plain water quickly became boring, and soda is gross to me (and I live in a small home with little storage). I needed a different option if I was to survive the season with a proper water balance. Earlier, I’d discovered that instant calorie-free Crystal Light is sold in single-serving packets, each packing containing enough powder to convert a bottle of water into a flavorful refreshment. I purchased a few flavors with reckless abandon…all this variety and no calories! But, as with so many things in life, there was a problem. The artificial sugar gave me, let’s just say, issues. Look it up. ‘Nuff said.
My solution happened at Target, of all places, while I was purchasing some pens. I strolled down the aisle just browsing, when the Holy Grail of single-serving deliciousness caught my eye: Hawaiian Punch. You remember that, I’m sure…the bright red color that stained even black shirts, the funny-looking mascot who’d punch anything that moved, the metallic but delicious taste. I bought six whole boxes. It tasted just like my childhood (well, back then we ignored the instructions and added twice the liquid concentrate as was required to water, to intensify the sugary high). My addiction to the cure for summer dehydration had begun…I went to town all season on the stuff.
Late last summer, disaster stuck. I went to the store to replenish my supply, but there was nothing. My supplier had simply cut me off, and I could feel the withdrawal symptoms coming on. I searched around the aisle and then around the store. The manager told me, when I finally asked him, that the packets were a seasonal item. How could this be? Perhaps a villain had predicted my need and bought out the entire inventory. I left, outraged. And quickly formulated a new plan (they couldn’t keep me from my drink of choice). I looked online and found a box or two, but knew I’d never survive the fall and winter on such a meager supply. Someone, somewhere must have more…but no one, it seemed, could offer me a fix. I fell into a dehydration-induced depression. What was I to do? I never imagined that this day would come…my summer of Hawaiian Punch was over.
You might assume that I could simply go back to water and get over it. But I’d tasted the nectar of the Gods; how could I return to blandness? My tastes were now too refined. Every time I browsed the aisle at Target, my hopes rose. I’d get a little flighty knot in my stomach, my hands shaking slightly as I walked down the aisle as I frantically looked to see if a box had been shoved behind something else, perhaps. Each time, though, I’d leave empty-handed and crestfallen. What evil loser had already found the displaced boxes before I’d arrived? I was parched, grouchy, and couldn’t go on much longer.
And then one day, my luck changed. I found an entire case! The manager told me it had been in the stockroom (yeah right, those lying bastards, holding out on me…they knew I was suffering but didn’t care). As of this writing, I know that what I have won’t last me until next summer, when those “seasonal items” come back. I’m hoarding my crop as best I can until then…they’re in the back of the cabinet, where no one else will see them. No one else understands or appreciates those wonderful little packets.
Next summer, let global warming cook the planet: I will be prepared. Everyone else can dry up but I’ll be fully hydrated thanks to my imitation-flavored liquid love.