Wild Stories!

Titled: Monday Morning

I was up one Sunday evening, around 11pm with the prospect of staying up late that night and very really ugly prospect of having to be at work by 8:00am. At the time, it seemed like my friends and I were going to pull an all-nighter just for laughs. So, I decided to psyche myself up on Jolt cola. I drank, as fast as my stomach could handle, four *bottles* of the stuff. Sure, my bladder went into overload, but who cared? I had to stay up. Or so I thought. As luck would have it, we called it a night at about 1:00am. Once I got home and got to bed, I actually went to sleep. This amazed even me and thought perhaps that Jolt Cola was losing its kick. Boy, was I wrong!

6:30AM - The alarm jars me awake, just like it always does. But this morning was different. Instead being lethargic and cranky, my eyes were bugging out of my head!! After arriving at work, I walked very quickly by Carole the receptionist and cheerfully spouted out, "Good morning!!" I only heard her mumble something back...she obviously wasn't happy to be at work. I sat down at my desk and got on the phones. My God! I was talking a mile a minute! I couldn't remember if I was supposed to have lunch with my girlfriend, so I called her up and the message I left sounded like:

"Hi!Idon'trememberifIwassupposedtohavelunchwithyoutodaybutI'llseeyouatthemallaround12justincaseIwassupposedto.Okay?Okay?Iloveyoubye-bye!"

Needless to say, up until my lunch hour, I was ripping through my phone calls with great speed and vigor. Finally, I met my girlfriend for lunch and after I ate something, I came down from my intense caffeine rush. I couldn't stop laughing about it afterwards and, you know, she still married me some time later. ;)

Titled: A Caffeinated Prayer

Titled: The Experiment

This story is reproduced without permission as I've been unsuccessful in tracking her down. The historical part of Jolt was omitted.

What words could be sweeter than: "All the sugar, twice the caffeine"? Old school Jolt drinkers will remember this melodious slogan, aimed at a rebellious youth market in the 1980s. Back in the day of thin black ties and banana clips, Jolt became the premier alternative soda. Young folk clad in Jolt T-shirts attended punk shows and lived on the edge of life with each swig of the almighty soda. Since parents and dentists disapproved, the teenagers hid the cans under beds, in underwear drawers, and inside hollowed-out books.

In the early '90s Jolt makers revamped the soda's look. The can colors changed from the superhero arrangement of red, blue and yellow to a gaudy display of copper, black and red. The phrase "All the sugar" was dropped. Sadly, little was seen of it other than at 7-Elevens and college snack shops. The drink became utilitarian, something that allowed one to stay awake longer, rather than a beverage admired for its character and personality. Until a recent celebrity appearance in John Waters' "Pecker," it had all but disappeared from the national scene. And, it was that very feature as the beverage of choice for the sugar-loving, attention-deficit-disorder-suffering, addict-in-training Little Chrissy that brought it all back to my life. No longer a college student, there is really no reason for me to drink Jolt other than personal fancy. Coffee's more accessible and more compact.

The duality of my caffeine addiction and my complete and utter love of Jolt made me the ideal candidate to see exactly what happens when a person drinks Jolt for a week to find out what "All the sugar and twice the caffeine" will do to a person. My sole purpose in life (for a week) was to drink soda. Seems easy, right? Just drink and be successful, right? I planned to start out with four the first day and increase my consumption by two each subsequent day and end with a finale of 12 Jolts.

My friends reacted with a mixture of fear, awe and concern for my mental health. They said things like: "I don't want to be around you," "No, Karen, for the love of God, don't do it!" and "You're gonna flip. Just like a pancake." There was sense in their words; I revised the original plan and ended up with a maximum intake of 10 Jolts on the last day. As a lab rat, I was urged to keep a diary and record my thoughts, feelings, desires and fears. But in my feverish caffeine state I kept misplacing my notebook, scribbling on post-its and scraps of paper, losing them and then deciding I would just keep it all stored in my memory.

As a functional addict, I did not realize the immense effect a lack of caffeine would have on my system. My editor had requested I go two days without caffeine to clear my system of its tolerance. Like a good doobee, I agreed to these terms. By the very nature of being an addict, someone dependent on a substance or activity, I cheated a wee bit to prevent suicidal and homicidal tendencies.

10:30 a.m.
In groups of eight, we are "interviewed." Bored, I say very little during our group discussion on scantily clad women in rock videos. As we depart, someone asks what MTV is looking for. Our interviewer responds, "Energetic and articulate people." I am too weak to laugh.

12:40 p.m.
Having been awake for only a few hours, I decide a nap would be quite tasty. Mumbling, "must sleep now," to my friends, I fall into bed.

6:30 p.m.
Wake up. Fuzz. Really disoriented. Thinking difficult. Too hard to go the entire weekend without caffeine so I give into the Other Silver Bullet and drink a diet Coke.

11:00 p.m.
My personality resembles a depressed mute zombie.

Sunday
An even more boring day than the previous. I smoke a lot of cigarettes to feed my need for stimulants.

Monday, 4 Jolts
Jolt + alcohol = bad

8:15 a.m.
Purchase three six packs of Jolt.

9:00 a.m.
Guzzle first.

10 a.m.
I come back to life as I sip second.

10:30 a.m.
I feel antsy and swing from side to side in my chair.

12:00 p.m.
Drink third.

1:04 p.m.
Headache, slight nausea.

3:00 p.m.
Slight buzz, expected more.

3:14 p.m.
Fourth Jolt.

3:41 p.m.
Feeling of artificial happiness, want to make cat noises, "rrrrrrr." Urge to be on a swing.

6:20 p.m.
My fellow drinking buddy and I arrive to the CVP just before happy hour ends to drink half-price whiskey sours. We each kick back three and I become Hyper Drunk Girl, slurring my words faster than anyone in the bar. While walking home, we plot ways to become more intoxicated. First we drink rum and Jolts, then we travel to a Fells Point to drink vodka tonics. Because of the Jolt, I was able to approach the task of getting drunk with an energy and vigor previously unbeknownst to me.

Tuesday, 5 Jolts
Hangover nightmares

I spend the entire day in bed, sick from the combination of cigarettes, rum, whiskey, vodka, sleep deprivation, and oh, yes, Jolt. I decide to recover and eat two Big Macs before slinging back a few while watching television.

6:05 p.m. - 11:45 p.m.
I consume five Jolts in six hours. I wish I had a beer bong to speed the process. I wonder if it would be more efficient to take three Vivarin and eat a giant Pixie Stick.

12:05 a.m.
Despite the hideous amounts of sugar creeping through my veins, I sleep.

12:50 a.m.
I wake up from a nightmare of someone trying to kill me. I think, in my tortured haze, I should drink more Jolt. I leave my light on so the closet monsters will be hindered and weakened by the fluorescent light. I continue to wake up every hour or so to a blinking room. My heart races and my body feels immobile.

Wednesday, 6 Jolts
The Joyous Jolt Girl

My language starts to become dependent on hyphens, exclamation points and question marks. Periods of chipmunk speed conversation and activity are followed by chunks of spaced nothingness coupled with an inability to recall basic words. The 10 words that best describe me: jitter, chatter, bop, skip, swirl, spin , leap, dizzy, dazed, loopy. I laugh at everything and discover the beauty of those moments when laughs domino into one another causing man-overboard tears to squirt from the corners' of eyes. My arms clutch my stomach and my lungs heave for breath. The glimmer of chaos ends with a content sigh and the remaining giggles peter out with a hee-hee-hey.

Thursday, 7 Jolts
Bladder traffic

I notice a strange phenomenon - I jump out of bed with the first beep-beep-beep of my alarm clock. Since I have misplaced my short-term memory, inefficiency at work creeps in. Unable to be productive, I lollygag around the Jolt Web page, "Wet Planet Beverages," and purchase a hat and a T-shirt with the Jolt trademark. In a burst of caffeine-induced-evil, I think about buying the Jolt Jockstrap for my ex-boyfriend. The page advertises, "The Jolt Jockstrap is sure to give you the boost in performance that you have been waiting for!" Suddenly the fluorescent light shining on my computer screen parts and a Jolt bolt appears with the words "In this sign, you will conquer." I imagine a group of racially-diverse people on a mountain top, holding hands and swaying to folk songs. I step up to a podium and say, "I'd like to buy the world a Jolt." In a crowd-goes-wild sort of way, people cheer and hold up Jolt cans.

Inspired to do good works and spread the L-U-V of Jolt, I leave work half an hour early. While driving I am overcome with an intense need to pee instantly, sometimes referred to as "peeurgency." Stopped at a major intersection, I wait for my green-means-go arrow. I find the only way to prevent an accident is to repeat the mantra "Got to pee!" while strumming on my steering wheel. After an eternity the light refuses to turn green and I perform a "god test," which equates to the following words, "God, if you really truly exist, change the damn light and allow me the release I need." It works. I stop at Westview Mall, and relieve myself in the nastiest bathroom. When I arrive home I engage in a marathon of eating. Lucky for me, my father lives in a fat-free house made of Weight Watchers meals, unsalted pretzels and frozen yogurt.

Later, I journey with my friends to the Daily Grind to play Scrabble. My team kicks some serious booty. With all my might I pray for an opportunity to be able to spell "J₈ O₁ L₁ T₁." I realize the word has a base score of 11, and a maximum score of 57 if the "J" is over a "double letter" and the "T" is over a "triple word."

Friday, 10 Jolts
Caffeine intoxication

I drag my drinking buddy into my happy-snappy den of caffeine intoxication. She looked at me with my black, gold and red can, and wanted to have the same fun. Our gang-o-friends has decided to go to the movies. We sneak five cans of Jolt into "Pecker," not realizing the Senator would be selling the super fine beverage. We arrive to the theater half an hour early, and decide to get our fix by cracking open a few Jolts on the street corner. We finish in record time - 15 minutes. I am unable to talk to the Decaf People, knowing they just wouldn't understand my rambling I'm-so-hyper-yet-dazed thoughts. By the grace of the almighty Jolt master, I somehow avoid a trip to the bathroom during the entire movie. I'm overcome with a strange sort of pride for my I-think-I-can bladder. After the movie, every woman and her mother heads for the restroom. I finish up the last of my Jolt and paranoia begins to slip in. The Decaf People stare at me like I'm a freak, waiting to see what I will do next. I pretend to be a Pogo Stick but find the activity unfulfilling. Just like a an alcohol-drunk, I am unable to remember much else after that.

In the 15 hours I am awake I consume 10 Jolts and two cups of coffee. It's still not enough. A cycle of addiction flashes through my mind: Coke(cola) -> Jolt ->coffee -> espresso -> caffeine pills(swallow) -> caffeine pills(sniff) -> crystal meth -> coke (powder).

Detox II

I wake up Saturday with a hangover, as usual, but this time I suffer from the caffeinated variety. I discover the minute differences between the caffeine hangover and the alcohol hangover. For instance, it is more acceptable to drink a cup of coffee at 9 a.m. than to crack open a beer. But, a healthy dose of sleep cures both. Oddly, in both situations, the stomach feels the same: nausea mixed with need to fill tummy with anything greasy, fatty and nasty.

I fall into a deep depression when I realize that over the course of a week, I have gained six pounds. Additionally, I experience stomach pains, body aches and lethargy. Much like the first period of detox, I became easily confused and unable to form coherent and interesting sentences.

Reflections

Before this adventure I had always gleefully admitted to being an addict of caffeine, a slave to its energetic juices. In truth, I casually drank my morning coffee and went along with my day. My life has been on a downward spiral since Project Lightning Bolt. The periods of detox made me realize that I'm useless without caffeine, unable to function in daily life with out a few shots of espresso. In the pre-Jolt experiment era of my life, I called myself an "addict" the same way a pet owner acts like a parent. It was something I said, but never really thought about. Aside from these philosophical realizations, I'm convinced the high intake of caffeine wound up and wore out my poor body. I've had a cold since the beginning of October.

So I squeezed a few more words into a sentence, radiated a fake vibe of happiness, and added a spring in my step and a snap in my fingers. In exchange, the experiment made me realize how much I truly dread life and need an assortment of legalized uppers -- coffee, soda, espresso beans, chocolate and sugar -- to get me through the day so I don't plunge myself off of a 10-story building. I'm an addict and unless I want a life of sluggish unhappiness, there is no relief for me.

And what sort of bored idiot thinks drinking 31 Jolts would produce interesting and relevant stories?

Don't answer that.

Got a story you wanna tell? I'll post it!

Write it here, caffeine addicts!

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