For want of a Subway straw

I’ve been staying up pretty late at night recently. It’s mainly because me and my girlfriend talk at night, and when we hang up I have to make up for the wasted time on my new PC game.

The best part about staying up late is how your body converts the need for sleep into the urge for a midnight snack. For me, this urge has recently taken the form of ice cream. So when I started screaming for ice cream the other night (then apologizing to my angrily-awakened roommate), I decided to take my last can of soda (or “pop”, if you will) and use some of my roommate’s ice cream (who was conveniently awake so I could ask for permission) to create a Coke float. Which I made with Pepsi.

The soda poured down on the ice cream, creating that deliciously amazing perma-foam that can be eaten with a spoon or a finger. Raising the glass to my lips to take a sip, I savored every drop of the ice-cream-intensified soda that danced across my tongue, past my uvula, and into my throat. Setting my glass down to vocalize my delight with an “ahhhhhhh”, I went cross-eyed to observe some of the perma-foam on my nose.

I reached and reached with my tongue but to no avail. I was not Gene Simmons. So I shed a tear as I wiped away the perma-foam, never to be eaten, and decided I needed to find a straw. I tore through cabinets and drawers, only to come up empty handed. Time was of the essence as the ice cream slowly lost its solid state due the soda’s warmth and Newton’s Law of Cooling.

Fearing none of my other floor-mates would have straws either, I ran sock-footed to Subway. I nonchalantly stepped through the door. At 11:40, the place tends to be rather sparse and I feared the lone, bored employee at the front counter might call me on my lack of shoes. But I didn’t want service; I only wanted a straw.

Our eyes locked, and I moved slowly towards him. I could see disappointment at actually having to serve someone welling up inside of him. I crept a couple of steps closer and looked quickly out the window. This was enough to draw his eyes off of me and I grabbed a straw and turned and ran out the door. As soon as I left his line of sight, it occurred to me I’d have to do this again if I ever wanted another Coke float, so I ran in again, with no heed for him noticing me, and grabbed a handful before running out the door again.

That straw delivered the tasty goodness of my float directly to my mouth without worries of losing the precious perma-foam. Mission deliciously accomplished.