The Cup

I have a black plastic Jack Daniels cup that is a remnant of my college days. As I recall it was a frat party favor and was originally filled with margarita (many that night). If I remember correctly - and there's a good chance that I don't - that was the party that I had to call my roommate sobbing and trashed to come pick me up, even though she had to drive my car halfway across campus and she couldn't drive a stick. For some reason I remembered to take it with me when I poured my drunken ass into the car that night. The cup had a tough life that night, and has since been through six moves and God only knows what hard treatment. Yet, it still proudly displays Jack's logo and you can still read the recipe for Lynchberg Lemonade on the back. It still shouts to the world about its rebel youth.

Last week Mr. Me called it into service in the Little Man's bath. Sometimes inanimate objects have surreal lives too.