Drying Out in the Desert

It's not often I get on a health kick. But now and then, I get a little burst of enthusiasm. I recently took a look at my life and decided to try and improve my nutrition. No, I won't be giving up mashed potatoes. Or donuts, if I could find any decent ones. I decided to go right the for the big one, the one they said I couldn't do. I decided to give up Diet Coke.

Not that it would be easy. I know where every fast food restaurant in Los Angeles is, and how much the biggest Diet Coke costs, including tax. Your Super Quencher will be $1.61 at Jack in the Box. Extra-large (ask for "the 44-oz.") is the same at Carl's Jr., except occasionally they bump the price back to $1.50 for some reason. Don't bother with McDonald's unless it's summer--the rest of the time they only have large, not extra large. I have been known to choose my cars based largely on the quality and quantity of the cup holders available. Sorry, new Volvo convertible--you won't be coming home with me. In other words, I like my Diet Coke.

But I realize there's no nutrition there. All you're really guzzling are artificial flavors, artificial sweeteners, sodium and caffeine. Yum. Not to mention that $1.61 adds up, especially if you're really hot and busy and might have to get two in the same day. And there's the embarrassment factor if you have to give someone a ride and they see all the empties rolling around in the back seat. So it's a no-brainer, right? Give up the DC.

The first week wasn't that hard. My friend PK and I went out to La Salsa for lunch, and she offered not to drink one in front of me. Not a problem, I insisted, I am a rock. Plus it was Diet Pepsi, so not really a temptation. I hauled my Music water bottles everywhere. Looked the other way with stern resolve when passing Jack in the Box. It really wasn't all that hard. But then I hadn't really been tested yet.

I was headed to Two Bunch Palms for a relaxing week. My room there had a kitchen, but I wasn't bringing any soda, just healthy water. I rushed around a little getting ready, and was on the freeway on time. Until I hit Pomona, when the 10 freeway came to a complete halt. We sat there. It was hot out. No one was moving. And there, just up the freeway onramp, taunting me, was a Jack in the Box. In the afternoon light, it took on a slight glow. A reassuring, soothing aura. Up there, above the traffic, above the frayed tempers, it shone like a beacon. "Come to me," it called. "Come to me and be caffeinated." My Higher Power never stood a chance.

One soda, just to get me to the resort. That's all I got. It tasted like heaven. But I only needed one. I got off the freeway and drove proudly past the grocery store. No need to get a six-pack for the room, no need at all. But I went a mile out of the way to Carl's Jr. to get just one more. It was the last one, really.

From there it was just a short slide down the cola gutter. Every morning I woke, full of resolve. Every noon found me in the car on the way to Carl's Jr. I would not get a six-pack, I wouldn't, because I was really really quitting after this one. By the end of the week I was in the car, going through the drive-through wearing only a bathrobe and slippers, with leftover facial goop streaked across my face. I had no shame left. I was just grateful they had the drive-through.

I'll give up Diet Coke very soon. I'm almost ready. In the meantime, don't sell any of your Jack in the Box or Carl's Jr. stock, though.