Ginger Ale

It was on sale today. 2 liters of ginger ale is only a dollar at Jewel, the same price as the flavorless seltzer that they don't even allow to be in the same aisle as the rest of the soda, banished to the booze aisle because it makes everyone so sad. I don't usually buy soda at the store, so I'm not really sure what the going rate for a liter bottle really is - but a dollar? That seems so low, but appropriate. Because ginger ale is so awful. Originally created by British pirates looking to create a drink that would accurately reflect their bleak world view, ginger ale became popular in the United States during prohibition, when bootleggers started marketing the drink as an alternative to alcohol, which then sent people straight to their nearest speak easy because it tasted so awful and they needed a stiff drink to get the taste of it out of their mouths. It was a double win for the bootleggers, because it was at the speakeasy that people learned the only useful purpose of ginger ale - as a mixer. Nowadays ginger ale is the bastard piss colored step child of the soda industry, so unpopular that it's rarely available in soda machines, save for the ones located in the saddest of office buildings. It's only steady buyers are the elderly who want to enjoy a soda but find Sprite's ad campaigns confusing and offensive, and drunken divorced fathers who need something that they can both mix with whiskey and give to their kids on the odd weekends. So it was with much pain in my heart that I reached out tonight for that plastic bottle. It was then that I realized not only do I like ginger ale, it might even be my favorite soda. While it might just be another sign that I'm doomed to a sad, lonely existence, I don't care, because heaven help me if I'm going to pass up a deal like that.