ROFL: Random Outbursts From Lar! LarryNocella.com

27Feb/07Off

Did I just throw away my winning lottery ticket? – Or – How I almost died and Why I volunteered to not become a millionaire.

Okay, here’s what happened. This weekend I went grocery shopping and came across a health drink that I really enjoy.

Wait! Don’t go! Stay with me, this gets more interesting. I know so far it’s in the vein of most blogs: the Boring Everyday Details genre, but it will get more exciting, I promise!

So – I’m psyched. The local grocery store is now stocking this beverage I love. So I scoop a bunch up and vow to return every day. Everything seems okay, but then I’m drinking the drink today and something hits my teeth, a solid something. I bite into it and pull my mouth away. It’s a piece of plastic about one-half inch square, with one corner sliced off so it’s a rhombus, or a trapezoid, or – I don’t know. It’s hard and sharp and I almost swallowed it.

Inspecting the plastic jar and its cap, everything is whole. I find no evidence that this jagged piece came from my bottle. Therefore, I must conclude that the jagged plastic piece was in my drink. Reflexively I threw away the evil plastic piece and thought to myself, “Whew! That was close. If I had swallowed that, who knows what would have happened!”

Time dragged on and I thought, “Wait a minute: could I sue the company? Could I get a zillion dollars since they almost killed me?” An angel perched on one shoulder, a devil on the other. The devil was begging me to sue, the angel was telling me to let it go. What to do?

As usual when angels and devils battle for my decision, I grabbed them both, knocked their heads together and went my own way.

First, I can’t let it go. I must state the facts so that no one else can get hurt. So here they are: The drink was Naked Juice (nakedjuice.com), a Mighty Mango. The markings on the bottle are: ENJOY BY MAY 01 07, 01A7031M, 00:01 MM. I also called Naked Juice customer service and alerted them to what happened, praising their drink, but criticizing their bottling procedures. I was promised some coupons, as well as other “enclosures” – not sure what that means, a t-shirt maybe? They also said they would send a postage-paid envelope which I can use to send the offending bottle and offending piece of plastic back to them for inspection.

Another thing I can’t do is entertain a lawsuit. Did they REALLY try to kill me? Was this an example of negligence? I can’t say that unless I find another piece of plastic in my next drink. I must say the first one I had was delicious and plastic-shard free, as was the one I had after. Plus, it would suck that I just found a store near my home carries the drink, only to chase them off with a lawsuit. Lastly, I can’t stand legal proceedings. They’re so dry, devoid of logic, and any human relations. I often wonder how many lawsuits could be avoided if all parties sat down and honestly tried to understand each other instead of pulling out their weapons (lawyers.)

So that, my friends, is where the story ends for now. The docile angel on my left shoulder is frowning, annoyed that I gave anything away. The devil on my right shoulder is freaking out, screaming, “You idiot! You just threw away a million dollars!”

The angel is too docile: I have to make the facts public and complain to the company so no one else gets hurt. The devil is too aggressive: I would love to be rich, but do I really want it this way? Who says I would even win? And then I’d be just another idiot who tried to exploit my own misfortune and someone else’s mistake. I’d also be adding a stupid example to people who are anti-lawsuit period, even in cases where companies are genuinely negligent.

Screw the demons and to hell with the angels. I just wanted a damn drink.

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Larry Nocella is the award-winning author of the novel Where Did This Come From? available at Amazon and Xlibris and other fine online book stores. Also, for a limited time, Where Did This Come From? is available as an eBook for only ONE DOLLAR. Visit Larry Nocella's website at www.LarryNocella.com.

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