On a caffeine induced binge today, I realized why people might do coke. I am productive, happy, and unstoppable right now. Triple that…or maybe tenfold it and that’s maybe coke (I don’t know…don’t plan to know). Can’t afford the habit anyway. I get it. Still not worth it, though. Anyways, while on my cappuccino induced rage, I’ve been thinking about that rumor of how Coca-Cola put cocaine in their cokes years ago. I know it’s not true, but running with the idea of that, what if Levi’s were starched with maybe not coke, but something addictive, endorphin-producing. Something engineered and fairy dusted into the actual denim fibers of the jeans that produced feelings in your nervous system like none other. Like how McD’s has their own scientists to formulate food smells and tastes that not only actually make you happy, but leave you with actual withdrawal even if you don’t recognize it as such (look it up). What if the jeans were like that. Something added, something secret. I wouldn’t put it past them to do it. I mean, if our food is engineered and modified to make us addicts to its savor, why not one of America’s favorite brands?
Here’s the scenario:
You would go into a fitting room with a pair of Levi’s “just to try them.” But when that one pair got dirty, you’d have take it off. Afterwards, you’d soon find yourself feeling an aching chasm in your emotions. A hole in your happiness and a longing left in the tastebuds of your butt. So then you maybe decide you need a pair. And maybe another pair for when the first pair have to be in the wash. The feeling you have when you have them on is like none other. You’re pretty sure wanting that feeling is worth a couple extra bucks out of your pocket. Then, you need one for every occasion, every day of the week. You need a supply to keep you going for as long as you can plan out. Pretty soon, you wake up on a couch with the same shirt you’ve been wearing for the last month, scraps of old food on scattered plates around you on the floor, and piles of Levi’s keeping you company as your only friends, happiness, and high. After that, it’s L.A. Not La La Land, CA, but Levi’s Anonymous, because you’ve finally seen that you’ve gone too far. On the way to your first meeting, you think “This shouldn’t be too hard. They’re just jeans.” I can live without them. And you immediately notice a bead of sweat trickle from your temple down your nose and onto a few fibers of your just-bought-that-day pair of Levi’s.
I wrote this on 9/9 and decided to do a little visual with it today (9/10).
I ran to the store, got some powdered sugar, and sculpted.