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Illustration for article titled My Jamba Juice Story

I was 16, it was a nice day out.

I was driving the old Volvo since my older sister didn't need it that day. I was with my (then) boyfriend, he was 15 and couldn't drive yet so I did most of the carting around those days. I kinda liked having control of where we went, I still feel that way about driving, there's a sense of control you get when you're the one driving.


I wanted Jamba Juice, back then it was rather new to the Chicago suburb I lived in, and the strip mall it was in was confusing to get into, I still get confused finding it. But I wanted a mango a go-go.

So we get our juice on, nothing special, he might have paid, or maybe we bought our own since he was a bit of a whiner about buying stuff for me, a lot of Chicagoans are like that, stingy I guess, it's not a big deal to me.


We're drinking our smoothies driving to his house since his parents weren't home (wink wink) and of course there's a train. We're held up at the railroad crossing. I'm absentmindedly sipping my drink because mmm yum!

When he asks me if I would stop drinking it.

Weird request. I ask him why?

He says that drinking from the straw was giving him a boner.

[awkward silence]

I have been self conscious drinking from straws ever since.

Whenever I get a Jamba Juice, I think of his boner and how his mom had a bunch of Wizard of Oz collectibles because she was really into Wizard of Oz.


That's my Jamba Juice story.

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