I walked into a large ballroom with a friend by my side.
It was dark and beautiful, lit from the ceiling and wonderfully crowded. Most of the guests had already settled in and grabbed a cup of the punch. But as my friend and I walked about the room, something began to seem off. At a closer look, I figured it out.
Every guest had a glass of punch, but some had a tall cup and some had a short cup. In addition, some had a long, pink straw and some had a short, orange straw.
I began to watch as the people in the room moved about. Those with a short cup and a short straw roamed about thirsty, constantly returning to refill their glasses.
Those with a tall cup and a taller, pink straw lasted the night,
I turned to my friend to see if he noticed the same thing. With a sad sort of smile, he directed me towards the kitchen. There, in a corner, stood a friend of my, looking very distressed over her cup and straw.
"I'm so thirsty, always thirsty." She said.
"Here," I reached for her empty cup." She handed it over to me and I left to refill her cup for her. When I returned, she took the cup and immediately began to drain her glass once again. I held my own cup close to my chest, tapping the rim and feeling sorry for her.
Then I was amazed. The strangest of things occurred.
My friend drained her glass within moments, but still she sucked on her straw. I looked down at my own tall cup and watched as the contents began to diminish until it was almost depleted.
Even still, she seemed insatiable.
I couldn't let such a tragedy continue. Taking her cup and exchanged it for one of the taller glasses and plunked her straw back into her new glass. She smiled and began to sip.
Watching her, I felt felt some relief, thinking I had solved her problem. But as she sipped, her short little straw rapidly sapped up all that it could reach, and she couldn't even begin to drink what remained. Then I saw why the pink straw had to be paired with a tall cup. And together, we exchanged her short straw for a taller one.
She drank and was satisfied.
