Coca Light…Really light

The Europeans just don’t cotton to America’s Big Gulp mentality.

I’ve written a great deal about my travel over the years, but I, either for fear of seeming much-too American or far-too-less worldly, have not mentioned this cultural difference. It’s impossible to get a decent-sized soda over here.

I’ll admit, I’m a soda drinker. Diet Coke usually. When morning comes, I usually cast aside offers of coffee and grab a can or six of aspartame goodness. It’s not good for my teeth. It’s not really good for anything. But it’s what I do and I don’t see myself stopping any time soon. I like a cup of coffee after a big meal or on a cold morning, but in the middle of summer, give me caffeine in a can, man. In fact, I just had a fond memory of my buddy Cappy turning to me out of nowhere in college and saying, “Big soda?” And off we’d go to Sonic for a Route 44.

And so it happens that I again find myself in Europe. I’m usually tired and working late hours. Whether it’s to keep me up burning some midnight oil or get me up and get me back into the fray, I go in search of Diet Coke. Of course, here, Diet Coke is Coca Cola Light–Coca Light for short. I’m always left wanting.

The print on the bottle is so small, I can’t read how much Coke I’m getting, but if memory serves, the bottle is about eight ounces. For reference, here’s my little Motorola flip phone (which has GSM capability and lets me call home for an insane price from Monte Carlo) next to the bottle.

So far this morning, I’ve had two bottles of it (holy shit, did I just pay $8 a pop for those?). I’m still sleepy. If it weren’t for the fact a sea breeze was blowing through my window (and I have to go to work soon), I’d crawl back under the blankets and go to sleep.

I’m not a big defender of the Biggie Fries, Quadruple-Decker Coronary Burgers, or 36 ounce ice cream orgasms, but I can’t help but long for a Sonic Route 44 Diet Coke right now.

“Big soda?”

Labels: Travel