When I lived in Tempe, Arizona, Red Bull, then a new product, gave away free samples at the corner of University Drive and College Avenue next to the hot dog cart I visited almost daily.
Both the hot dog vendor and I smirked: Red Bull. Ha!
I told anyone who would listen that Red Bull would soon be an afterthought. Horrible stuff in a tiny can they thought they could sell for a buck. No way. Still, I loaded up on the stuff — it was free, after all — and thought I could soon sell it to an Americana museum featuring things like Tang and Steak-ums.
(For the record, around the same time I thought Zima would replace water as the world’s most important drink. These were not my best prognosticating years.)
When I returned to Minnesota a few years later, I met a young woman who was really into the stuff. In fact I would have been happy if she cared about me only half as much as she cared about her Red Bull. She drank it with everything, especially booze, and needless to say she was drunk a lot.
Despite of my concern, I thoughtfully kept the refrigerator full of Red Bull, of course, in an effort to keep everyone happy.
Alas that wasn’t enough, and she drifted off anyway, perhaps to someone with a bigger can, and sought happiness elsewhere.
She was a bit nuts — a bit nuts indeed — however I can’t say for certain if she was nuts due to the Red Bull or otherwise. All I know is this was the only relationship of which I can pinpoint a canned energy drink as the interloper in my romantic affairs.
No harm done, however; I’ve always dismissed it this way: Anyone who is going to leave me for a rancid tasting energy drink is unworthy. Red Bull…pish posh!
Until today, at least, that softened the blow.
So now I find myself tempted to take up Red Bull drinking and space ship jumping, but there are some practical matters to consider. Getting a lift to New Mexico being one and finding a space suit that fits being another, but otherwise who out there doesn’t think I am Red Bull worthy? I stand here to be proven RIGHT, for a change!
Of course Red Bull already has its Felix Baumgartner, so perhaps the vineyards of Brunello di Monalcino could use a hero. Perhaps jumping out of space ships is passe and forgotten. Perhaps I can just be the fun good looking guy at the end of the bar pish-posing Red Bull wearing a funny Zoro mask and cape. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…
I don’t know…I am going to go think about it. And you, dear Red Bull Princess, wherever you have gone, you’ll see what I am really made of…Red Bull shmed bull…
Damn it, where’s my cape?
- Watch Felix Baumgartner reattempt his supersonic Space Jump – Live [Video] (io9.com)
- Red Bull Stratos (parmarhh.wordpress.com)