Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities

I couldn't pass as a refrigerator thief

I’m an unabashed supporter of Gatorade, even though I rarely have any reason to drink it.

It brings back memories for me of hours playing basketball, and popping over to one of our town’s two gas stations for a little bit of hydration and a little bit of flavor. I loved Citrus Cooler, but I usually had to settle for Lemon-Lime. I still remember the failed Iced Tea flavor.

No matter the flavor, the best part stayed with you even after you’d drank the last drop. The bottle was, and is, a work of art, even more so than the beverage it contained.

While I hate the negative environmental impact made with most plastic bottles, it never concerns me with Gatorade because I don’t throw the bottle out. The bottle mouth is wider than most, so I can use it to store change.

The best use, by far, is as a water bottle. One 32-ounce bottle is about one-fourth of the water I should be drinking daily, the mouth is wide enough to shove in ice cubes and there’s sometimes that tiny leftover drop of Gatorade that infuses your water.

I thought of all of this and more when I looked in the break room fridge over the last few weeks. Every once in a while, I’d drop off restaurant leftovers or something from home I could eat at the office. Each time, I saw in the abyss an unopened bottle of clear Gatorade.

I studied it ... no color, and Glacier Cherry flavor. I had that flavor a few months ago. It’s no Citrus Cooler, but it works in a pinch.

Every day I saw that Gatorade, and I thought, “Maybe I’ll steal this Gatorade.” But I said no, because I was better than that. I wasn’t a refrigerator thief. Cheat on taxes, look to the last page of the book you’re reading, and open Christmas presents on Dec. 18 ... but stealing other people’s food from a community refrigerator is where I draw the line.

My resolve weakened, and I talked myself into refrigerator crime after three weeks of refusing.

“If they didn’t want it stolen,” I said in self-justification, “they shouldn’t just keep it in here for weeks at a time. If you want your stuff respected, put your name on it.”

Finally, I pounced. I looked to my sides and behind me to make sure there were no witnesses, and I grabbed that tempting, perfect bottle of clear goodness.

“If somebody asks about it, I’ll buy them three new ones to make up for it,” I said to myself. “A Gatorade in the hand is worth more than three at the store.”

I twisted off that orange cap, as I’d twisted so many orange caps before, and took a slug of ... water?

And then I recalled the last time I tried Cherry Glacier. It was at work. Since I never throw a Gatorade bottle away, I refilled it with water and put it in the refrigerator.

So if anybody ever accuses me of a crime, just remember I needed three weeks to convince myself to steal my own water bottle.

Now that the water is gone, I have the empty bottle. Perhaps it’s time it goes back in the fridge ... but not before I use my Sharpie to write a clean, “KW,” on the cap.

Gotta protect yourself from refrigerator thieves, you know.

Kevin Wilson is managing editor for the Clovis office of The Eastern New Mexico News. Contact him at: [email protected]

 
 
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