I don’t know if you have Sonic where you live, but here, it’s something of an OBSESSION. And, oh yes, those caps are warranted. Sonic, for the uninitiated, is basically an old fashioned drive-up…the sort you might see in old episodes of Happy Days. They sell burgers, fries, hot dogs, tater tots, etc. Their main appeal, even in my uncorrupted mind, is their drinks. They serve them in insulating styrofoam, with bunny-pellet ice, and the flavor options are insane. Cherry Vanilla Rootbeer? Pineapple Dr. Pepper? Diet Cranberry Limeade? They’ve got ’em all. And they serve them in 44 oz. cups. This simple thing has caused an obsession in these parts. A day without a Sonic drink can never be a perfect day.
I am, I think, the only stand-out in a group of my friends who are in LOVE with their Sonic drinks. And most of them are not even taking advantage of the flavor options! They’re just getting a uninspired Diet Coke. Gah! Here’s how bad it is… one friend washed out a Sonic Route 44 drink cup for me, complete with lid and straw, and brought it to me empty, to be filled with my choice of non-Sonic beverage, just so I wouldn’t feel left out. (The sentiment was appreciated, but that went right in the trash.)
I know people–multiple–that go everyday. I’ve known people to go twice in one day. If someone goes, they get everyone’s order and come in toting gigantic drink carriers of mostly Diet Cokes. Top-heavy Sonic cups can be seen in the hands of women everywhere. Men seem immune to the appeal…maybe that makes me a tom-boy of sorts, because I’m definitely immune. It’s like a cult following, with more and more getting sucked in everyday. Soon I’ll be the only clear-thinking, Dr. Pepper can-drinking woman in the ‘hood. I will go down fighting.