Thank You, Dr. Pepper...

...For excluding me from enjoying a drink that I don't want, and for proving I'm a man in the process.

I'm sure you've all heard of Dr. Pepper 10. I purchased it last year because I had a coupon for a free 2 liter bottle and I never pass up free stuff I don't like. Right after my purchase I first saw the commercial that made it overly clear that this drink is only for men. I say "overly clear" because the dialogue and text say "not for women". 

Recently as I was driving to work I heard the new radio spot for the drink. The spot basically sets a list of check points that will qualify or disqualify you for drinking DP10, thus, measuring your manliness. Among the qualifications:

• If you’ve ever hemmed your pants with duct tape…
• If you sport a handlebar mustache…
• If you’ve blogged about bacon…

I've hemmed many things with duct tape. I'm poor. Not just pants. Dresses. Shirt sleeves.

My handlebar mustache is the fake one I craft when I pull a piece of my long hair across my face for comedic effect. 

I have blogged about bacon. Not on this blog. On a different food one where I am a guest writer. The sentence said "I don't eat bacon so I left it out of the recipe." I'm pretty sure that qualifies as blogging about bacon.

So by your standards, Dr. Pepper 10, I'm a man. But you know what? I'm not and I don't want your drink because I hate Dr. Pepper. Also, way to perpetuate stereotypes, assholes. 



*This post would not be complete without making fun of my brother, who as a 2 year old had a meltdown in a Pizza Hut where he screamed "I WANT DR. PEPPER!" for what felt like an eternity. The boy had never had Dr. Pepper before. Pizza Hut does crazy things to us all.

"I heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that..."*

Alright. Here's the deal. When I drink I act like I'm in high school. Not the way I actually was in high school. The way the girls I hated acted in high school. 

It's a dark bar. It's very loud. It's a dark and loud bar. A girl I barely know called me over. "Can I tell you something?" she asked me. I was drunk, of course I would say yes. Disregard the fact that I hadn't known her for very long, she wanted to confide in me and I was far from denying her of her request. "I kissed Frank a few weeks ago. I really like him. Will you find out if he likes me? Say it just like this…"

Yes. Obviously I will help you. Did you not know I'm the matchmakers of all matchmakers? Well I am. I'm notorious for setting people up on dates that never actually end up occurring. So, really, my track record is pretty good. No failed dates!

Within seconds I had forgotten the exact words I was supposed to say, so I said the following. "Frank, I forget what I'm supposed to say, but do you like that girl?" He didn't, but said he'd call her the next day to straighten it all out. "But she wants me to give her an answer now so what do I tell her?" Apparently I was supposed to leave it alone because "This is ridiculous we aren't in high school." No. I have a BFA in meddling. 

Girl tracked me down. "Does he like me?" No. Whomp and let the sadness commence. But not too sad. She was drunk too so she was relatively upbeat.

I went back to Frank. "Are you trying to hook up with that other girl?" 

I don't remember what he said. Those drinks were strong. 


*Eden's Edge, "Amen"