I sluggishly pull my covers away, exposing every bit of my body to the freezer that our apartment has become overnight. Immediately, salty sunrays hit my eyes, forcing them shut. Seven a.m. will always be considered an “ungodly hour.” My left leg pulls my body halfway off the bed; my right leg follows, pulling me upright. Eyelids still sealed shut; I go through the motions of an everyday morning. Face wash. Toothbrush. Shower. Clothes.
All in a sleepwalk-like trance. It’s not until I sleep walk to the first floor vending machines in the Busch Student Center that I find sweet, morning relief. There, inside the vending machines, is my always faithful, best morning friend waiting for me: my Coke Zero.
I am not a morning person. I am neither cranky, nor moody, nor mean. I am simply unaware of what happens around me until about 11 a.m., and I have happily resigned to the fact that I am not a morning person with the help of the 20 oz. Coke Zero bottle full of happiness.
Every single morning, afternoon, and sleep-deprived night, Coke Zero is always there, or should I say, “has always been there,” because it no longer will be.
Saint Louis University has just recently signed a 10-year exclusive contract with Pepsi. While I do not hold a grudge against Pepsi lovers, for the contract, according to Annaliese Giordano, Contract Management Specialist for SLU, is supposed to include an “increased funding to University programs, enhanced product and marketing to support Biliken athletics, an improved sustainability and recycling program and a full, diverse line of beverages including Mountain Dew and Gatorade.”
All of which is great for SLU and those who are positively effected by the change, but the fact that there will be “a limited amount of Coke product available for purchase” sinks this Coke Zero junkie’s heart.
The transition to Pepsi was supposed to happen, according to Giordano, two weeks prior to Jan. 18, 2011,, so that by the time students were back on campus, SLU would be virtually Coke free: a true tragedy for Coke lovers like myself.
Yesterday, boggled by the early morning daze and bothered by the drastic weather change between where I had spent my break days and where I now stood, I sleepwalked to the BSC in a struggled effort to wake up my body long enough to have breakfast and make it to class on time.
As I walked into ABP, hopeful that I would get my much needed caffeine kicker in form of a 20 oz. Coke Zero bottle, a friend tapped me on the shoulder, “I guess they still have your coke,” and sure enough, in ABP there still are, what could possibly be the last, Coke Zeros on SLU’s campus.
Today, the feeling that all hope was not lost, and that I could still find traces of the reason I make it through my every morning and even the nights that won’t quit, was reinforced when I walked into the C Store and was able to buy my, what at this point has become, morning remedy.
Unfortunately, just a few hours ago, as I walked past the BSC’s first floor vending machines, I was startled to find a big, blue vending machine in the place of where my morning miracle used to stand. Needless to say, my hopes of a coke comeback were crushed.
While I still may get my Coke Zero daily dose off campus, and while my friends will forever make fun of my Coke Zero dependency, I am sad to see it go and hope that I am not the only one to feel its absence. R.I.P. Coke Zero; you will be missed.
Daniela Mondragon is a sophomore in the College of Arts and Sciences.
