La Croix Battle

Pro-La Croix | Anna Kanaley

Yanking open the fridge, I crave a bubbly, sweet treat and know immediately what to look for. But my biggest fear has come true – our fridge might as well be empty. Sure, there’s veggies, sandwich meat, soda and fruit, but there’s none of the one thing that truly matters: La Croix.

Maybe I sound dramatic to be upset over sparkling water, but La Croix has acquired quite a La Cult, and I’m a proud member – I’m even drinking a passionfruit La Croix as I write this.

However, I recognize that La Croix leaves consumers falling on two opposite sides; they either love it or hate it. There’s no in between. Some see La Croix as an acquired taste, or something to mix with cranberry or orange juice. I’ll admit it – I started out only drinking it with cranberry juice. But when I tried it alone, I realized what I’d been missing all along: flavored bubbles dancing on your tongue, followed by the sweet fizz lingering in your mouth.

What’s even better is that there are 15 different flavors, so there’s no way to get sick of these bubbles sent from God. I’ve stopped drinking soda – why would I need it if La Croix has zero calories and sugars, and tastes just as good, if not better?

Now, when I hear the familiar crisp of a La Croix can opening, I know I’m in for a treat. I mean, La Croix literally translates to “The Cross,” furthering my holy metaphor for the drink sent from God.

So, if you’re hesitant about the drink that gives me a warm, fizzy feeling inside, I highly recommend giving it another try.

Anti- La Croix | Kaleigh Koc

I don’t like La Croix.

I tried to like it. I saw circles of people with the colorful seltzer water in their hands, and they seemed happy. I wanted to be a part of the obsession.

So, I accepted La Croix when hosts offered, hoping each time that I would understand why everyone was in love with the bubbly drink. I hoped it would be an acquired taste, but each sip left me disappointed.

La Croix contains zero calories, comes in 15 flavors, and is always available at writer’s deadlines and study sessions — all the arrows point to me liking the trendy drink.

With each can of La Croix I wasted, I felt guiltier and guiltier for taking the beloved drink from my friends.  I finally started saying no in an effort to help the world of La Croix-lovers, yet I am still ridiculed.

“What is wrong with you? How can you not like La Croix.”

For starters, I hate carbonated water. And La Croix tastes like old flowers soaked in carbonated water— almost like lukewarm perfume. More precisely, it tastes like the smell of body odor unsuccessfully being covered up by perfume.

So, for those of you ganging up on La Croix-haters, I hope your next bubbly nasty-flowery sip makes you think of what I’m saving for you. There is more La Croix because of me. You’re welcome.

I know I’m not the only one who doesn’t like La Croix, and I’m here to stand up for everyone else who is shunned out of small house parties for their drink preference.