Open Letter To Red Bull
Dear Red Bull. I love you. I really do. I don’t mind your sugary, over-the-top sweet smell (which reminds so many people of some kind of cough syrup). I like your taste, and your bubbles makes my nose all fizzy and tinkly. I even like your colour, it’s very summery.
You have got me through some tough times, dear Red Bull. Sleepless nights studying for exams have been made more fun having you as my only companion. Boring afternoons at work have been perked up by your presence. Even some times, in a night out, asking for you at the bar ensures that I can last dancing like a monkey for some hours more that, otherwise, would have been spent in the corner, looking at the watch, and hoping we could all call it a night.
I do have a small complaint, handsome Red Bull. I tell you this with my hand in my heart, with all the love in the world, and I hope you don’t get too angry. See, this morning I was on a hurry on my way to work. I picked you up in my usual supermarket without looking, my hand automatically knowing where to find you. I paid for you and the three baguettes very quickly, without stopping to check that you were, in fact, more expensive than usual. I’m sure some people will point out that it was really my own fault, but I still think you should have made it more clear. I didn’t even notice the extra weight in my bag when I placed you, lovingly of course, inside.
And here is my conundrum. You are not my usual Red Bull. Today, you were not my cold, nice Red Bull can I am used to. And you are not because, hidden amongst the normal 250ml cans of Red Bull, I got you, 355ml can. I still love you, don’t get me wrong, but see, the problem is, my usual 250ml intake of Red Bull is enough for me to be like Speedy Gonzalez on speed. Or for me to become more aggitated than Hammy from Over The Hedge. So I sip my last drops of my 355ml of Red Bull (which, people, is almost a full pint glass!), I notice my normal Red Bull-induced twiches and palpitations multiplied by 20. I know I’m in for a fun ride… I can start to see life around me been filled with neon-colours, and my hands are typing at the speed of light.
So there you have it, Red Bull. I still love you, I do. And I don’t say those words easily! But I do think that, this time, you might have done me no favours. It is only 4pm, and I can forsee a sleepless night. Even more, in an hour, I am meeting someone for dinner and Eurovision second semi-final (now how would something as camp as that be seen through the eyes of an over-caffeinated person!? It might be a real mind-trip!!)… She’s going to have the full over-excited, over-nervous, over-shouty, over-jumpy me. It will be fun, I say. She might call the paramedics or injecting me an elephant tranquiliser, she thinks…
May 22nd, 2008 at 7:18 pm
you are very crazy drinking something like that. Sorry, that’s my opinion