The saddest thing is doing all manner of yard work, and then walking to the neighborhood 7/11 for a lemonade. I purchased the 32 oz. variety of Big Gulp. As an aside, when I was a youth, this was the HOLY CRAP size fountain soda. Certainly that fashion of soda is one that would be worked on over the course of a day, maybe two! Now, it is the smallest of the Big Gulp line. It is the Big Gulp that the other Big Gulps look on in pity. Sometimes, they think about culling the 32 oz. Gulp. It would be an act of pitty, to end the suffering of their litter's runt.
As an aside to the aside, we also had in this area growing up, the Big Juan. A local taco chain would give you a Big Juan meal, with a plastic Big Juan cup. I imagine this was a poor time to grow up with the name Juan, and be an undersized Juan. The indignity of constantly being referred to as Big Juan in a sarcastic manner.
The point however, is it is not the saddest thing to be the smallest of the Big Gulps, or the be an inappropriately size referenced Juan, but rather, to pay for a lemonade, and then knock it over on the counter, directly into the open cargoish pocket of your waiting pant, your waiting pant that is made of a duc material that shouldn't hold liquids as neatly as it does, directly onto your cellphone, thus rendering it inert.