There was a period when our family lived in dire poverty. Food was a luxury. I remember sometimes we had a cup of coffee for dinner. I put a few spoons of sugar in it and enjoyed every small sip as I convinced my baby brain that this was a culinary delight.
We never could afford to buy ice cream from the ice cream truck. When the other kids would run to the music of the Good Humor man, we stayed in the back yard humorless and ice cream-less. We rarely had soda-which is not a bad thing. But I was a kid and I desired the sweet tasting caffeinated drink. I remember promising myself that when I grew up and had my own place that I would buy an eight pack of Pepsi 16 ounce bottles-that is how they were sold back in the old days. Then I would drink them all, one after the other. In time I forgot the promise.
In the fall of 1977 I was turning my life around. I enrolled at Northeastern Illinois on the north side of Chicago. I also found a full-time job as a clerk with the United States Post Office. It paid well. I moved out and rented my own flat on 18th Place and Paulina, right next to where there is now a thrift store.
I bought an old chair and a used 13-inch black and white tv. On my fist night I sat alone in my apartment watching a 13-inch tv which rested on the floor. For some strange reason I remembered the promise of that little boy who could not afford to buy a pop. I went next door to the store and purchased an 8 pack of Pepsi bottles. I kept my promise and drank one after the other.
I fulfilled a childhood dream. I also went to bed ill that night from drinking 128 ounces of Pepsi.
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