Picture this: It's 1997 in the local shopping mall. I'm innocently out, shopping with my friends. We had lots of stores to hit, our tummy's were rumbling, and there was a huge line-up in the drug store I needed to go into.
"I'll meet you at the foodcourt," I said to my friends, "and we can get some A&W".
I made my way to the drugstore.
And waited in line for about an hour.
At this point, I was sure I was going to die. I was extremely famished, absolutely parched, and overheating after standing in line with my winter jacket on, next to people with questionable personal hygiene.
Upon the completion of my purchase, I made my way to the foodcourt.
I found my friends, and sat at their table with a dramatic thud.
"Oh my GAWD," I said, "that was a crazy line up, and I'm so totally dying of dehydration." I saw their A&W cup on the table, and rudely grabbed it, taking a long, exaggerated drink to prove my point.
As I gulped down the syrupy goodness, my friends looked at me in horror. They must've thought I was so rude, enthusiastically polishing off their drink without even asking, but I was thirsty.
|Delicious Root Beer.|
My friends looked at each other with disgusted looks on their faces.
"Patti," one said, sadly, "that drink was here when we sat down. It wasn't ours."
I drank random mystery A&W rootbeer footcourt WASTE, and down to the last drop.
Yeah. That happened.
I thought I should share my story with you, because that was an experience that still turns my stomach, and it'd be nice of me to ensure that you, dear reader, never have to share that fate. Consider it my gift to you. Merry Christmas.
Incidentally, I have not had A&W rootbeer, since.