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.
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.