The last time you drank a Red Bull in preparation for an all-nighter or a Friday night on the town, did you really think about your choice of beverage? I doubt it. Instead, you texted your roommate while she was on her way home from the library, saying something along the lines of “ugh, I am LITERALLY going to die if I don’t get a Red Bull can you pick one up for me???”
You are not actually going to die, and you know this. In fact, you know you do not need to consume so much Red Bull that your face starts to vibrate violently and you can’t stop moving your hands. But you are going to do it anyway.
Please, do not think I am passing judgment — because I am stuck in the same trap. I do not want Red Bull, and I do not like Red Bull, but I am going to continue buying Red Bull like the under-caffeinated weakling I am.
Did you ever consider the branding of Red Bull? The logo is a bull that is red. This is not a typical color for bulls. Furthermore, the drink allegedly gives you wings. Both of these concepts are highly implausible! Yet being exhausted capitalist slaves, we are going to purchase Red Bull anyway. You will probably even tell your friend that it gave you wings. Each of you will laugh, ignoring the absurdity of the affair and the fact that you are uncontrollably sprinting around the bar.
Now, answer me this: What does Red Bull taste like? Is it at all related to the aforementioned red bulls? Is this actually FDA approved? The flavor of Red Bull is not present in any naturally produced food. My life occasionally flashes before my eyes after that first saccharine sip. Don’t get me started on Sugar Free Red Bull, which probably is sitting in my body undigested only to release its aspartame wrath when I least expect it. If you say you enjoy the taste of Red Bull, you are probably lying. We all merely tolerate Red Bull, because we need and accept it.
That sleek, blue and white can masks the repulsive color of its contents, a gnarly gold existing somewhere between unhealthy urine and dirt cheap beer. You almost reconsidered ordering that vodka Red Bull the other night because of how gross it looked when the bartender poured it. But you downed it anyway — you just needed a “little kick.” Hell, you even tipped the bartender more than usual for having to deal with that taurine-filled monstrosity.
Red Bull is more expensive than other caffeine boosts. You could have bought a coffee — a nice one, at that — but instead, you shelled out $2.69 for a warm Red Bull sitting on a convenience store shelf for heaven knows how long. Yet we buy Red Bull in our darkest hours regardless, unwilling to wait for coffee to brew or a hot tea to cool down. Red Bull is everywhere. Red Bull is immediate.
So here’s to the jitters and the shakes. Here’s to Red Bull and its uncomfortable position in our otherwise pleasant beverage scene. May our desperate, pathetic wings never fade.
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