The Flask

Recently, I’ve started carrying a flask, what I call it, The Flask. It’s not really a flask, though, it’s one of those “sport drink” aluminum bottle. Or thin metal, possibly alloy, I’m unsure. Might be pot steel.

It started as a yoga water bottle, but we all know how that turned out. The flashback for the bottle, though, is a buddy who has a drinking problem. He showed up for a ride, a while back, and he was toting a similar bottle. It had an adult beverage in it, smelled like fortified wine, with a fruity overtone. Nasty stuff.

So while I was grasping my flask, and swigging down a concoction of my own, well, concocting, I wondered if I looked like that. I reflected back, thinking of that buddy, furtively and secretly drinking cheap booze to keep himself level.

Not like this is all that unusual. As I grabbed my own flask, I thought about it. I’ve got 2–3 cups of cold-brew coffee, a cup of unsweetened coconut milk, and some fake sugar (organic). Kind of like coffee ice cream, but stronger.

The fundamental difference is that I’m willing to let anyone share my ice coffee whereas my buddy? He was guarded about the contents of his flask.

“It’s just water, man.”

While sitting at the rock shop, this all flashed through my mind when I took a long pull on the ice coffee.

Back at the Rock Shop, on the morrow.

thereby hangs a tale