Avery's Root Beer

Avery. I once dated a girl that lived on Avery. She was nice. She was Italian, and for some reason, she felt like she had some link to the mob. I don't know if it was true, but it certainly never sat right with me. I just thought that she thought that since she was Italian, it was common knowledge. I hope someone comes to see me tomorrow to break my legs for saying that. I won't deny I said it, but I certainly will have a story to tell.

So this girl, Sarah, we didn't date that long, a few months. I was 16 or 17 at the time so I had no idea what a jerk I was going to turn into. Along came Christmas and I bought her a bracelet. Nothing big. I think I got it at a department store for like $20. It was nice, though, thoughtful, at least. I gave it to her and she broke up with me. Why? That's a fun one. She said that her dad got her mom the same bracelet and that she thinks that she meant too much to me so she broke up with me, right on her cousin's porch.

No I'm not regretting anything. I've done a lot of stuff since then and have had a handful of girlfriends, but what if I gave her this root beer?

"Hey, Sarah. I got you this root beer and wrapped it like you wouldn't know what it was. It's named after the street you live on so you can keep it like some cool souvenir if you want. If you don't want to keep it, I understand. Who wants a sticky old bottle? Plus, it's pretty good root beer. Just the right amount of sweetness and flavor to get you through even the hardest days."

Do you think if I gave her that over ten years ago that we'd be together? Probably not, I suck. Seriously. I can't believe I've been in long-term relationships at all. You know what I can believe? I can believe that this root beer is pretty good and I would choose it over a "regular" root beer any day. Barq's? Mug? Supermarket brand? Nope. Avery's? Yep. Just poppin' my "P"'s.