ice tea.

001

i found the first post-it note on a dreary wednesday in late february. the grey clouds reigned its tears of anger in heavy sheets, so heavy that the pounding of the rain could be heard from even the bottom floors of the school. and the sky was brewing up a terrifyingly beautiful storm, with melancholy hues of black and grey and navy blues.

i was in the cafeteria full of students silently doing their own business during my free period. a friend of mine gave me a bag of cheetos a few prior when i forgot to eat breakfast, so in return i was planning on buying him his favourite, doritos. and that's how i found myself in front of the row of vending machines looking high above me.

resting adjacent to the snack machine and upon the drink vending machine was a little baby blue post-it note. it barely stuck to the glass and dangled loosely by a thread, so much so that even the lightest tap against the glass would send the piece of paper fluttering down into gravity's hold and into a quick demise.

from where i was in front of the snack machine, i couldn't read the post-it. it shouldn't have mattered to me anyways, it was nothing but a worn down piece of paper seconds away from falling and being forgotten forever.

and yet, after i bought the doritos, i found myself subconsciously walking up to the vending machine towards the intriguing aura the post-it note held. perhaps the aura told me it was a story waiting to be written, something worth being remembered.

the note laid in front of the rows of ice tea on the top right of the glass casing. it read:

"don't the buy ice tea. i always have it for breakfast, but it's really not all that great.

it's way too bitter and doesn't taste anything like the can says it should. (re: mis-flavouring, the peach one especially tastes like ass.)

to be honest, i absolutely hate the ice tea and it's definitely not worth your money. i suggest going to the vending machine in the math wing hallway and getting arizona ice tea instead.

(ps, if it matters, i only keep drinking it because maybe it'll feel a little less lonely if other people know it's being bought.)"

everybody in the entire school hates the ice tea. the post-it was nothing but a fruitless attempt of notifying the student body of an already unanimous opinion. the untouched rows upon rows was enough to show the little note was to be never even seen.

because it meant nothing. it wasn't meant to be a story or meant to matter. it was meaningless.

and yet, i found myself pulling out a ballpoint from the miscellaneous junk on the bottom of my bag. i wrote:

"stop buying the shit if you don't like it. then maybe the  school will take a fucking hint and replace it with something worthwhile."

i inserted a dollar and bought a can of peach flavoured ice tea.