Today's public service announcement is a warning that Red Bull is evil. On Friday, during my 7-hour drive up to San Francisco, I noticed my eyelids were heavier than normal so I pulled off the freeway to get some sugar and caffeine in me. Because it was so warm, I didn't feel like sipping on a hot cup coffee but this particular market didn't appear to stock the Starbucks refrigerated beverages. I wasn't much in the mood for soda so I grabbed a tiny 8.5 ounce can of Red Bull. My brother and Eli drink these little buggers all the time so I figured I'd give it a shot. I've had a sip before but never a whole one to myself. When I was rung up for this $3+ drink, I asked the cashier if these things really "worked." He replied in the affirmative and I was on my way.
First of all, $3+ for 8.5 ounces of liquid? Preposterous, I declared. On top of that, this thing tasted like cherry/fruit punch cough syrup, not exactly delicious. After about 30 minutes, however, the active ingredient (Sugar? Caffeine? Allegedly the power of Taurine is a myth.) kicked in because in no time I was buzzing in my car. Since I foolishly had a Kit Kat bar with my Red Bull, my stomach became a painful, twisted mess. My eyes no longer had the blinking function. My hands were twitching. And suddenly, I became Speed Racer on crack with a blind fury directed at anyone that dared fuck up my momentum. Wow. For those of you that know me (hell, for those of you that read here often), you might have picked up on the fact that I am a hyperactive spaz as it is. Red Bull brings out my Mrs. Hyde. It's no good. So the next time you need a pick me up, I'd think twice about the Red Bull. Learn from my mistake.