She came to my office much the same way as all my patients do: referred by her usual dentist who didn’t have the time to deal with such an extreme case. But there was something different about her. Something not quite right. And it hit me as soon as she stepped into the examining room.

She wasn’t nervous.

Far from it, actually. She was, surprisingly, humming. I believe, if I’m not mistaken, that it was to the song, "I’d Like To Teach The World To Sing"; made famous more than thirty years ago by the Hillside Singers; and made famous, yet again, around the same time by Coca-Cola. I knew, almost immediately, what I’d find when she opened her mouth. I’d seen it time and time again. Only this was more severe than anything I’d encountered before.

I asked her to have a seat. Introduced myself, "Dr. John Dennis, but my patients call me John."

"Nice to meet you, John. My names Jenny."

We shook hands. I looked into her gloriously yellow smile, as she got comfortable in the chair.

"So what brings you in today, Jenny?" I asked, already fairly certain of her answer.

"A penchant for Coke, or so I’ve been told."

Bingo.

"And just how many do you drink a day?"

"Oh, don’t rightly know. Six or seven, I suppose."

"Sounds like an addiction." I prepared to look into her mouth, though I knew what I’d find. She’d be lucky to have any enamel left at all.

"Coca-Cola is the shortest distance between thirst and refreshment," she informed.

I stared into her eyes and only nodded, unsure of just how to respond. For a nut case, she practically radiated self-assurance. Buzzed with it, actually. But maybe that was the caffeine. It’s hard to say for sure.

"Well, it’s eating away at your teeth. Why not try something else for a change. Maybe a juice the next time you’re thirsty."
The smile left her face.

"Not drink Coke? The friendliest drink on earth? The drink of quality? The pause that refreshes?"

"There are other, well, less caustic drinks out there, you know."