Ode to My Lost Diet Coke

I bought you in Wal-mart. For hours I had craved your crisp refreshment. In the check-out lane, I waited. I waited for the cashier to ring up everyone with smokes in another lane.  At last, it was my turn to buy you. I put you down to be rung up first. Then I did not put you in a bag, oh no.  You sat in the front of the cart, right next to my purse. Then came the groceries. Those stupid groceries. They went into my car first, while you had to wait. At last, the groceries were stowed away, snug in the back of my sport utility vehicle. I thought I grabbed you when I grabbed my purse. I got into my seat, put on my driving slippers and backed out of my space. I pulled out onto Glendale Avenue, mouth watering with anticipation of the way your bubbles would burn my nose on my first sip.  But, you were gone. You were not there. I'm sorry, 20 oz bottle of Diet Coke. I must have left you in the cart. You were probably cold and lonely. I failed you. I failed my thirst.  I am sorry!