Coke A Cola and the Meanderthal
When I first discovered Coke’s name
to be Coke,
I admit, I was taken aback
with the fact that it is the unusual title
for this amiable human
I often see in the lobby.
But Coke is used to the awe
of people discovering his name,
and ups the intrigue by telling you,
“Actually, I’m Coke the Fifth
and my son is going to be
Coke the Sixth.”
I remember asking him,
“Are you expecting?”
But no, Coke told me
he has yet to marry
but…
yesterday, a woman guest who takes note
of the nametags of the hotel staff
met Coke and told him,
“We ought to get married,
since my last name is Cola.”
Coke chuckled,
a soft, polite bellhop laugh
and admitted it would be a fitting match
since his middle initial is ‘A.’
Just imagine:
“Hi, my name is Coke A Cola.”
Unfortunately, Coke won’t be marrying her,
the reason being he doesn’t want
any last name but his own.
This surprised me,
because it seemed like a match made in heaven
for Coke who studied linguistics in college
and who alerts me to the existence of new words
such as “meanderthal,”
usually after I have been walking
too slowly, oblivious to him and his bell cart
behind me.
Today is Coke’s birthday.
Meandering on the seventh floor
I check out the set up for Make-A-Wish’s
I am told by Rebecca, a Make-A-Wish intern,
that each table, set with flowers
and polka dot wrapped presents
is dedicated to fulfilling the wish of one
terminally ill child.
The interns tell me that most of the kids
want things that will benefit their whole family:
trips across the world to visit grandparents in the old country,
vacations to Disney World or Italy.
One girl is professionally recording and performing her own song.
One boy wanted a shopping spree in New York City.
Their lives are fragile, let them try what they like, yolo, yolo!
Put on a mask. Fly.
I am inspired to do things I have always wanted to do
so on Thursday I walk fifteen miles from my home in Franklin
to the Pfister. It takes me 7.5 hours (not 4.5)
before I get to match the carpet at work.
Photo: Helene Fischman
