When I Order Diet, Please Be Quiet

There is much complaining and grumbling today about how rude People Today are. They push and shove; they seem incapable of understanding the simplest concepts, such as “We do not accept personal checks” or “No Smoking:; they endanger life and limb with their cars; they allow their children to behave like wild animals; and the ways they manage to annoy, confound and enrage others involving cell phones is without number.
This is nothing new, of course. Ancient graffiti unearthed in the ruins of ancient Pompeii, has been translated from Latin and contains such gems as “Septimus must die, for he did induce and permit his dogs to befoul and despoil the patio of his neighbor Fulvius” and “Octavia does menace and terrify all and sundry when she, having imbibed too much wine at last Lupercalia, navigated her chariot upon the promenade, compelling fellow revelers to leap for their very lives, as well as bespattering them with mud and offal from the street.:
What do you mean, you don’t believe me? Go to Pompeii yourself and ask the guide, Luigi, to show you. Tel him the Ghostess sent you.

Anyway, I have one small complaint to add to the litany of how-rudes. No, I’ll phrase it in the form of a polite request; I have very good manners.
My request is this: when we are dining together, sharing fellowship and convivial conversation, and I opt for diet soda, please do not say “Oh, you don’t need to drink diet! You’re nice and thin!”
First of all, it is none of your business, and in fact is not even remotely important or interesting, which soda I order. Secondly, the remark is so totally banal that it isn’t even a compliment.
Thirdly, don’t assume I have some kind of weight hang-up or problems with my body image. In fact, don’t assume that calories have anything to do with my soda choice, because they don’t.
Not that it is anybody’s business, but today, the mystery of Why the Ghostess Always Drinks Diet shall finally be solved.
Many years ago, the Ghostess went to the dentist for her regular checkup. She took reasonably good care of her teeth, as good as most people and a good deal better than some. So she was most distressed and embarrassed when her kindly dentist, who had known her since she was in pigtails and Mary Janes, informed her that she had a cavity. The Ghostess wracked her brain trying to think of a reason for this. And the only thing she could come up with was her fondness for soda. Regular soda, at least one per day. She was a college student, after all.
The Ghostess made arrangements to have this cavity filled at her earliest convenience, but in the meantime, she vowed that “a change is a-gonna come.” She had always disliked diet soda, but now she understood that if she was to continue enjoying carbonation, she would have to learn to like it.

And I did. It only took a couple of days before I not only liked the taste of diet soda, but actually preferred it to the regular kind. It was amazing how fast this happened. Others have told me that the same thing happened to them when they made The Switch. I can drink regular soda if it’s the only kind available, but I much prefer the diet kind.
Except for Sprite or 7-Up. The diet versions of those are just disgusting.

So now you know.

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2 Responses to “When I Order Diet, Please Be Quiet”

  1. judylaq Says:

    So, the question is diet soda or dentures. This sounds like a good case for false teeth! JMO

    • ghostscribe Says:

      Even though we’ve come a long way since the days of hideous and barely-usable dentures, I still try to adhere to Soupy Sales’s advice: “Be true to your teeth and they won’t be false to you.” Of course the real solution to the diet-or-dentures quandary would be simply to drink water. I do try to do that, but so many places have water that smells and tastes like a swimming pool that I sometimes get discouraged.

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