logueb
Posts: 1380
Joined: 1/6/2007 Status: offline
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Pat, As I was reading your post that smell came back. Nothing on earth has thas smell. As most of you know my Stepdad ran a country store. This was a two-pump gas station , grocery store out on US 319 the other highway to Florida. US 1 went down the East Coast, but if you were going to Miami you took 319. Anyway I can remember those summer days, hot like this summer was. Pair of shorts and underwear, that was it until Sunday rolled around. Barefooted as a hoot-owl. Toes all skinned up from tripping on pine roots. Dad let us get a treat once in the morning around 9 and once in the evening around 3. Couldn't wait till the time came in the evening. Walking barefoot on that cement floor was so cool to the feet after running in all that hot sand. You would lift that folding lid on the drink box (that's what they were called), and that cold air would come up and almost take your breath. We were too short to reach over in the drink box like the grown-ups so we had a stool by the drink box that we would stand on. Dad didn't like you to keep the lid opened too long so the drinks would stay colder. You knew what each drink tasted like. You knew the short cokes were stronger, but you knew that there was more in the larger sizes. If you drank that short Coke too fast you would strangle on it and it would come out through your nose. Ever done that Pat or cap? Coke, mmmm Nehi Grape, Orange, Strawberry, mmm Nehi Peach yum. Buffalo Rock ginger Ale, Icy Brook ( tasted like bubble gum), RC Cola, Pepsi, Frostie Root Beer, Chocolate Soldier, so many choices. Dad's drink box was an older model with no drink name on it. He didn't like being told how to display the products he sold. It was a copper lined box and would freeze the drinks if you didn't keep them moved around. You would grab a drink and the moisture from the condensation of all that humid southern air would be froze in the bottom of the drink box. Where you pulled out the drink would have an impression of the base of the bottle. Next was the opening of the bottle and the cap would go into that cap holder. I used to keep a lot of these and build things, you could stack them (pyramid style) sort of like legos. Dad would toss out the caps when the holder got full. He always threw them where the rain came off the corner of the store , I guess like you would use gravel today. I remember walking on the caps barefooted, and to me and my brother you were a sissy if you walked around the caps. Painful, but the skin on the bottom of your feet would toughen up by the end of the summer. Yes Pat, I remember the smell of bottle caps with cork liners and the smell of soda left inside. A big RC Cola and a Stageplank and off to a shady spot neath them Georgia pines.
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Buster Bottle Bug Bit with no cure in sight.
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