friday after work i stopped by jamba juice for one of their all fruit smoothies. i was in my pickup, so there are no drink holders. it doesn’t come standard with any form of holder, and i’ve not bought anything. i’ve got a 1965 ford f-100 for G-d’s sake! drink holders are for sissies!
what’s that? okay, so jamba juice isn’t exactly the height of masculinity. let’s move on, please. anyway, this state of affairs has led to several spills so far. in fact, i’m beginning to think my pickup has a drinking problem. but back to the story…
while turning onto westheimer, my barely consumed all fruit smoothie tipped over in the seat next to me. fortunately, it didn’t spill. unfortunately, the next time i sucked on the straw i was met with gurgling noises and air in my mouth instead of the sweet sensation of a jamba juice all fruit smoothie. thus i learned the straw broke, meaning i had no suction through it. as i was driving i decided to see if i could figure out where and how many holes there were. i covered the places i felt air coming out and blew into the straw. well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened next. my success at covering all holes in the straw was rewarded by a huge growing bubble of air at the bottom of the all fruit smoothie, which pushed the lid off, and a large splotch was deposited right in the center of my mechanic shirt. brilliant! this large mass of escaped smoothie slowly ran down the center of my shirt and onto my…uh…pants…while i was driving. plus i forgot to mention it was sprinkling/raining, so i was having to turn the wipers on now and then. and i was driving a standard. all while trying to hold the styrofoam cup with all fruit smoothie inside, outside, top, and bottom. i’ve got no cup holder, you see.
so…here i am, attempting to change gears, steer, turn the wipers on and off, and hold a smoothie (that i can’t drink through the straw), while cold smoothie is melting and sliding down my shirt and onto my pants and the seat, and i’m getting smoothie on everything i touch. i finally decide enough is enough and i begin unbuttoning my shirt to try to get the quite chilly smoothie off of my chest and direct its downhill descent toward the outside of my legs instead of my…uh…pants. i’ll have to admit here that i’m not known for my toned physique. nor for my full body tan. in fact, i’m not sure i can remember the last time someone saw me with my shirt off (excepting doctors and my ex-wife). i’m a modest, pastey white, out of shape fellow, okay? i’ve also got freaking all fruit smoothie all over myself, so i’m not exactly excited about things. i just want to get home.
at this point, a guy walked up to my passenger side while i was at a stoplight and started asking for a ride for a couple of blocks because the city bus he was on broke down. my door was locked and the window was rolled up, but he was persistent. he knocked on the window. he tried the door handle. he pleaded. he even offered me $20. (as if.) the whole time i’m sitting there with an exploded all fruit smoothie everywhere and my shirt unbuttoned, and i’m just thinking “G-d, you have got one sick sense of humor.” in my confusion, he ended up getting in the back of the pickup and i dropped him off a few blocks later. eventually i made it home, got out of my all fruit smoothie soiled clothes (which i think included everything except my socks), and went to bed.
i think maybe i’ll look around for some kind of drink holder here sometime soon.

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