So the other day I went to the cinema to see Casino Royale (which was a great movie but not the topic of this post) and just moments after getting my drink and popcorn, the answer to a life-long mystery came to me in a moment of clarity.
I’m sure others have figured this out too, but it’s not something that is to be discussed and remains a whisper amongst modern-day society. Taboo? Doubtful. Probably just not interesting enough for someone to talk about it. But I am not one to shy away from the uninteresting.
I am a very analytic person. I like to look at things. I like to understand how things work and why certain things are the way they are. One such slice of the delicious sensory pizza that is the world comes in the form of the fountain pop lid. At first glance it is merely a primitive device to prevent the spillage of contained liquid of choice. Yet, the more I think about it, I cannot comprehend the process by which it could have evolved into its current, optimized state.
The property to focus on is the small handful of hemispheres that indicate the contents of the cup. Taken individually, their design and purpose seem simple. If the bubble is associated with diet, then it would be depressed if the drink was diet. If it’s cola inside, then the cola bubble would be pushed in. Simple. Yet, when taken as a whole it seems illogical and absolutely absurd that there’s usually only three of them. Since it is given that at least one of those must be an indicator of diet or regular, that leaves two others to tell the tale of the taste. We all know there are more than two flavours of pop at any given concession stand.
Are they the two most popular flavours? Who gets to decide? Was there an evolutionary process by which it was whittled down to two? Such are the nonsensical questions I have asked myself over the years, having failed to answer any of them.
That wonderful night at the cinema led me to a profoundly simple conclusion. You see, regardless of it being a Coke or Pepsi product, the two flavours are almost invariably Cola and Root Beer. Since all other drinks (on a per brand basis) served from the fountain pop machine are of differing colours, one can simply visually discern the flavour of pop contained within. Only Cola and Root Beer pose a potential ambiguity through their common colour. Thus, they are the only ones that require the decisive domes.
Such emotionless powers of time and random variation could never have produced such a wonderfully perfect lid to marry the fountain cup.
Indeed, it had to have been intelligently designed.
More often than the “Cola/Diet/Root Beer” I see “Diet/Root Beer/Other”. I think they assume if it’s not one of these it’s self-evident… or Cola. But why other? Because the only other brownish drink I’ve ever seen from the soft drink fountain is Dr. Pepper, and rarely do I see that.
And what about iced tea? It falls into the murky brown colour category too, though I suppose the lack of carbonation is its distinguising feature.