The Jones soda has been aerosolized

[eclectic_boy]

I was carrying a bunch of bags in from the PhillyShareCar, which I'd used to go shopping for both groceries and workshop materials, including a wading pool, modeling clay, clothespins, and fun noodles (which is another story, one that's getting detailed in this month's SWAPA). I had to get out my keys, so I set one of the bags down on the concrete, and it started hissing. I didn't want to investigate right then because I had the car stopped in the middle of the parking lot, flashers on, so I hurried up to my apartment. After I put away the refrigeratables, I investigated the still-hissing bag. It was, as I'd suspected, one of the cans of Jones Soda. As I took it out from the bag the room instantly started smelling sweet. The can was about 2/3rds full, and the very tiny hole that had been made in its side was continuing to vent strawberry-lime stickiness in a cloud, powered by the carbonation and all the jostling. I quickly opened the can--which took off the pressure and ended the spraying--and poured it into a glass, then quickly returned the car. I managed to get soda sprayed all over my face and glasses as I picked the can up, so it's off to the shower. But I wanted to share the story first :^)

Comments

[crystalpyramid]

But isn't your keyboard all sticky now?

[eclectic-boy.livejournal.com]

I did rinse off my hands before typing this, and even before getting back into the car. But I wouldn't be surprised if whoever rents it next finds it has a lingering strawberry-lime scent.

[sildra.livejournal.com]

That reminds me of my own childhood memories of strawberry soda...

It, of course, gets really hot in the summer in southern California, where I grew up. Add to this that my parents tended to keep soda in the (non-attached) garage (not that our house was air conditioned), so the soda was usually pretty warm the first meal it was served, before it had been refrigerated. It was the children's job to bring it in to the house, and my parents tended to buy 3-liter bottles because it was more cost efficient. So you can imagine that, when I (the biggest kid, and therefore the only one capable of lifting the garage door) was about 8, and these soda bottles were bigger than my torso, by the time they got to the house they were pretty shaken up. Somehow, though, that seemed to exceed my father's imagination. Consequently, one night at dinner, he opened a bottle of strawberry soda, and. Even after my father showered, and washed his clothes, and my parents bathed us, and hosed down the dining room wall... there were little pink spots on the ceiling for years.