Pepsi was the Choice of the Next Generation—MY generation!  In this instance, the advertising worked incredibly well but, honestly, in a blind-folded taste test, I’m not positive I could taste the difference. Still, decades later, more out of habit than taste, I’d rather drink a Pepsi than a Coke.

I grew up in Tucson where we weirdly called every carbonated drink a coke. Every. Single. One. Sprite, root beer, 7-Up, ginger ale, Pepsi, Coca-Cola — was “coke”. It made for very redundant conversations:

“Want a coke?”

“Sure.”

“R.C. or orange Fanta?”

—or—

“It’s hot! Can I have a coke?”

“Coke or Pepsi?”

Outside of Arizona, this just caused confusion:

“What would you like to drink?”

“A coke, please.”

“Is Pepsi okay?”

“Even better!”

Servers surely couldn’t understand why I would order a Coke if I prefer Pepsi. I didn’t order a Coke, I ordered a coke! Big difference! It was too hard to explain so I let them think I was dumb.

After we moved away, ordering a coke fit right in in Utah, where Coca-Cola is almost a monopoly due to the LDS church owning shares in the company. I wanted Pepsi but got Coke because 1. that’s what I inadvertently ordered, and 2. that’s basically all you can get in Utah. In our next state, I tried to order “cola” but this old dog couldn’t learn that trick. It was odd to hear people order “pop”. I didn’t even pretend to try to learn that oddity. I’m sure my “coke” sounded just as weird to them as their “pop” sounded to me.

I’ve gotten used to these weird conversations throughout the years. My kids hate it and find themselves greatly embarrassed by my ordering rituals. At this point, I don’t even freak out if it’s not Pepsi, although the advertising of decades ago makes me feel disloyal to my generation, I just want a brown, sweetened, carbonated cola … whatever is available. I just wish I could order it without the inevitable questions and back and forth clarifications.

In England, I thought I found the answer. I ordered a soda —

I got a club soda.

Fuck me.