A year or so ago I developed a drinking problem.

( If my Mom ever sees this she'll be calling everyone in the family to proclaim my confession and acknowledge that she has known this for years. And years. And years. )

Anyway, it has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with Wichita Falls, Texas. If you've never been to Wichita Falls, I really have to say you're not missing much. It's one of the extra-unordinary small cities in the middle of mostly nothing Texas.

Back in the Spring of 2005, I made four or five trips out there performing work for one of my former clients. On two of those occasions, I had very unpleasant experiences involving my attempts to either drink soda while driving or just drink soda period. Hence, my drinking problem.

Episode I:
The first episode started out innocently enough. I had dropped off some computer parts at a customer site and since it was almost 10:00pm, I was pretty much starving to death. Luckily, there was a Sonic drive-through located next door so I drove in and drove out with a Combo #1 and a Coke.

So I'm munching my way down the street and eventually get back on the highway for the return trip to Dallas. I have a habit of putting my drink between my legs as I drive rather than using the cup holder and at some point, shortly after I entered the highway, I hit a bump and my drink dislodged and plummeted to the floor of my truck. Great, I thought. Not only did I just spill my Coke and will have nothing to drink on the way home, but I also just spilled it all over the floor of my truck and I'm going to have to clean that up sooner or later. Just great.

I put down the cheeseburger and reached down to pick up the drink cup. Feeling around, I found that it had somersaulted on the way down and landed on its lid, which was still firmly connected to the top of the cup. Cool, I thought, I still have a drink. So I picked it up and placed it back into its prior position, between my legs.

It was about that time that I felt this unmistakable fire shoot through my testicles. Actually, it wasn't fire, it was the sensation of ice cold Coke penetrating the protective layers of my jeans and underwear and plunging the family jewels into the relative climate of Antarctica. You ladies will have no idea what I'm talking about but most guys will wince in empathy.

It turns out, that when the cup landed, it pushed the straw through the bottom. I was so happy about the lid not coming off, I didn't think to check the bottom.

So there I am, driving down the highway at 60 MPH, trying not to run off the road, trying to not to be concerned about my testicles, and trying to figure out what the heck I'm going to do with a drink cup that is pouring Coke from both ends.

Finally, I decided to slow down enough to where I could safely toss the cup in the back of my truck and I continued on back to Coppell, Texas with merely a hint of dehydration and testicular frosting. No body parts where lost in the endeavor, but it made the trip back, very, very, uncomfortable.

Episode II:
This one was even more bizarre - and more messy.

Given my Southern upbringing and redneck heritage, I do indeed put peanuts into my bottle of Pepsi and consider that to be a meal. Yeah, I know. You Yanqui's are all saying: "Gross." 

Anyway, I was about half-way back from Wichita Falls and about mid-way through the afternoon when I realized that I hadn't eaten lunch. Not having a ton of options, I pulled into the nearest gas station with a quicky-mart and proceeded to purchase a 20oz bottle of Pepsi and a bag of peanuts.

This is where I ran into my first problem. The normal Planters Salted Peanuts where totally out of stock and I'm not really that into Cashews. My choices were: Honey-Roasted, and Spicy Hot. Not thinking that Pepsi needed any more sugar, I chose the Spicy Hot variety. That, it turns out, was my second problem.

I get back into the truck, open the Pepsi bottle, and drank a couple of sips to make room for the peanuts, which I eased into the bottle a bit at a time. So far, so good.

Normally, when you put peanuts into a cola, it foams up a bit as the salt from the peanuts reacts with the cola. Today was no different. I sucked off the foam and add the final batch of peanuts and started to pull out of the parking lot. As expected, it foamed up again. And again, I sucked off the foam.

This is the point where things when horribly, tragically, wrong.

It seems, that last bit of foam wasn't a bit of foam at all. Nosiree.  Evidentially, it was a plug and the only thing keeping Mt. St. Helens from erupting.  And lucky me, I removed said plug.

So there I am, toodling across the parking lot with a volcano of Pepsi erupting in my mouth. Pepsi and peanuts were shooting out of my mouth, my nose, and most probably since there is nothing to block the path, my ears as well. My cheeks looked like Dizzy Gillespie and I have no doubt my eyeballs had distended to the point to where they were touching my spectacles. It was very, very, ugly.

I finally managed to bring the truck to a stop.  I threw open the door and expelled what Pepsi and peanuts remained in my mouth while holding the volcano at arm's length and and pointed away from me as it completed its eruption.

The entire left side of the cab of my truck reminded me of what it looks like when you stick an M-80 firecracker into a bottle of soda ( not that I've ever done anything like that, mind you ). It took me weeks to clean my truck completely and about 10 minutes to start breathing normally again.

Needless to say, I never again attempted to put Spicy Hot peanuts in my Pepsi.

Conclusion:
Events similar to those above have not reoccurred but I'm not sure if its because I haven't been to Wichita Falls, Texas, or the fact that I now only drink water while on the road.