Cocawine
Sometimes Kate would watch people talk at parties and feel it was almost unfair. Blatant attempts to disguise motivation usually had the opposite effect, yet few seemed to notice or care. After a few drinks she often found herself surfing through conversations, catching momentum and expertly addressing opportunities as they arose.
"Pemberton, that’s who invented Coca-Cola. John Pemberton. He claimed it treated morphine addiction, but all the while he was addicted to morphine himself, had been ever since he was injured during the civil war.”
“Really? Morphine? Granted, people were probably a bit more naive back then, but I don’t see how anyone could believe a cola drink could treat morphine addiction.” Kate blinked, black hair framing her nonchalance.
“Well, the job it does on my hangovers, morphine is not too much of a stretch.” The Coke guy appealed to the crowd with open hands.
“My hangovers are not so easily placated.”
“Oh no? What’s your secret?”
“Hair of the dog, natch.” This got the Coke guy wrinkling his brow, nodding his head, and grimacing. The silence was enough that people began to wander off. Shifting himself toward Kate, raising a thumb to his chin, the Coke guy considered his response as Kate half-watched a guy in a sweat-stained polo shirt fall asleep on his girlfriend’s shoulder.
“You have to understand, Pemberton was a pharmacist. He spent years trying to perfect the drink. Originally, he based the drink on a French cocawine called Vin Mariani, wildly popular in Europe. But he wasn’t satisfied with his original attempts and continued to experiment, to tweak the formula. It became an obsession.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“See, Coca-cola wasn’t a success during Pemberton’s lifetime. He spent more effort experimenting with formulas than on marketing the drink.”
Kate blinked again.
“What I’m trying to say is that he was focusing on the formula for personal reasons. He really believed it would cure his addiction. I mean, why do you think that so many people still drink Coca-Cola today?”
“Massive, widespread marketing?”
“Maybe. Or could it be that it actually does have the power to displace addiction? That there is something naturally soothing about the mixture of cola beans, coca leaves and essential oils?” The Coke guy left the question hanging but Kate refused to answer it.
“What did Pemberton die of?”
“Stomach cancer. Probably from all the morphine.” He kept looking her over, trying to gauge her reaction, but Kate wasn’t giving anything away. She turned and calmly looked him in the eyes. He looked away, then put a hand into his pocket. “Want some blow?”
“Sure.” Kate smiled and wondered how close it was to midnight.
