Shanice Harris

I recently was at a friend of mine’s house-warming party and noticed something very...odd.

The sun was setting as I made my way to her moderately sized apartment in Lakeview. I eyed the bottle of Merlot in my hand, as I waited for her to open the dark wood door. Loud music blasted as I anticipated a great night with friends. After I hugged her and waved hi to the others, I made my way to the kitchen. In addition to the tequila, rum and my lone bottle of wine, I noticed an odd choice—White Claw Hard Seltzer.

To be honest, I didn’t even know seltzer water was something that people actually consumed. I thought it was something people drank when they had an upset stomach and didn’t have immediate access to Alka-Seltzer. But, when I moved to Chicago almost 10 years ago, it became very apparent that this was every suburban 25-year-old's drink of choice.

White Claw entered the seltzer market in 2016. The brand is owned by Mark Anthony Brand, the same company that brought Mike’s Hard Lemonade into the ethos. White Claw has successfully made a name for themselves in such a short amount of time. To the point that La Croix—another popular seltzer brand—isn’t the only seltzer popular with millennials. Throughout college, La Croix was everywhere. My professors were drinking it, students were drinking it, even campus security would crack open a can from time to time. As I left college and progressed into adulthood, White Claw started making its debut.

So here I was, eyeing a case of hard seltzer—an invention I didn’t even know existed. What is America’s obsession with this stuff? Maybe I was wrong? Maybe this sorry excuse for soda was actually good. I mean, at least this one had alcohol in it...maybe it is satisfying? I picked up one of the silver cans from the counter. It was Natural Lime. It was cold and sweating. A pool of water starting collecting on the counter under its resting spot. I wiped my hand against my jeans and reached for the tab. It cracked open. I cautiously lifted the can to my lips, hoping for the best, hoping I was wrong. I took a swig and it tingled as it made its way down my esophagus.

I was right. This stuff is gross. I’ll leave the flavored-seltzers to the suburban 25-years-old.

Until next time…

Shanice