Enjoy Coca Cola

If I were a Jehovah's witness and I had to convince people to come to my church, I would get a list of people who had travelled in Bolivia, and tell'em if they didn't join our congregation they would be doomed to an eternal hell of riding a Bolivian bus.... from La Paz to Uyuni and back ...forever.

Knowing what the ride is like there is no way they wouldn't join.

Come to think of it, I should rewrite Dante's Divine comedy, reevaluating the various states of hell. Next to the hell of liars and cheaters there would be the hell for backpackers: a never ending Bolivian bus ride, complete with Cholas, chickens, all nite crying babies, backpacks falling off the roof of the bus and no coca-cola what so ever.

Anyways, where was I. Ohhh, Tal and I boarded our bus ride to La Paz.

The bus absolutely stank, it was ten times worst than the worst Laidlaw school bus you ever rode in. I was old, with bald tires and cracked windows. Seats had patched holes or straight out holes on them. There were peole sitting down, people standing up and other just comfortably sleeping on the floor.

I wanted to know what they were on. I'd bottle it, sell it and make a fortune out of it. If there is something you can take that will make you sleep on the floor on this bus, it can make you sleep anywhere.

After riding for seven hours, I was dieing to go to the bathroom for a quick #1. I had waited for the next stop to come, but apparently Bolivians don't concern themselves with such trivial matters like bodily functions. I got up and hopped over three of four people before making it to the driver. My effort was all in vain, as this guy did a better job at ignoring me than Republicans do at ignoring Black voters or Arizona cops ignoring Latino people's rights. For half an hour I begged this guy to pull over so I could ease my pain, but it was wall in vain.

Resolute in my decision to do something, I tried to make it back to my seat without pissing my pants. As I held onto the overhead luggage compartment in an attempt to balance myself, I accidently grabbed on to a coca-cola bottle. A bright light immediately lit inside my head. I was free at last.

I didnt care about whose bottle it was or if it was empty or full. I just grabbed it and rushed to my seat. It was pitch black inside the bus, making for a perfect crime scene.

2 minutes and almost a quart later, I was the happiest most relieved guy on earth. Ohhh man did I enjoy my coca-cola

Never in a million years did the marketing folks at coca-cola could have though that the phrase enjoy coca-cola would be used in this context.