TaB

BETTER LIVING THROUGH CHEMISTRY.

That’s right. Others need Zoloft, Prozac, Wellbutrin. Me? I’s got me my Tab Cola. Did you know it’s a beautiful drink…for beautiful people? Yes, indeedy. Nectar of the Gods. If I’m having a bad day, all I need do is crack a frosty can and I’m flying high.

Notice the straw? That’s to keep my teeth from rattling around my gaping maw like Chiclets in their yellow box. Notice the length and breadth of the straw? That’s so I can mainline. Notice how it’s wedged through the pulltab? That’s to keep it from bobbing and weaving. I am not the Adult Child of an Engineer (ACE) for nothing. Notice how it's balanced precariously on the edge of a balcony? It's a staged picture. I ain't stupid.

Things got so bad sad rad in March that I was drinking 9 TaBs a day. Nine. That ain’t good. Not only for my body, but my weeny wallet. It was costing me at least $45 a week to keep my habit up. That’s a discount Broadway ticket. A lovely meal. In April I decided to fix that and went down to 2 a day. I was jonesin’ I tell ya, jonesin’. Colleagues were begging me to go for a fix, but I refused. I was strong and I kicked it. And 2 seemed and still seems good…any more and I’m chasing the tail of the dragon.

Problem is, here in St. Louis it’s $4 a twelve-pack. Not much incentive for this TaB-Head.

TaB…Better Living through Chemistry.