I started asking friends and co-workers if they would be kind enough to save their bottle caps for me. I found myself getting chummy with the guy who fills the Coke machine at work, hoping for handouts that never came. Items on my “wish” list were selling out before I could accrue enough points to get them and it became painfully apparent that, unless I was willing to settle for some sorry Coke key chains, or an occasional free 20-ounce bottle of Coke, I was never going to be able to get any of the truly big-ticket items being offered. Within a couple months, however, it was apparent that Coke Rewards wasn’t going to provide me with the nirvana I was expecting. I eagerly scanned the Coke Rewards website for items that I desired, and put them on my “wish” list.

I’d simply buy my 12-packs and dutifully enter the 12-digit codes printed on the inside of the cartons. After that it was a long, ugly decent into the depths of Hades.Īt first, my need to collect points was orderly and rational. My addiction to Coke Rewards started on Octowith a ten-point deposit into my account from a 12-pack of Coke Classic. And just like any other addiction, nothing really good ever came from it. Of course, my addiction was not as devastating as those who are dependent on drugs or alcohol, but it was a powerful addiction just the same. Well, there was a time - more than a few years ago now - when I was addicted to Coke Rewards. So what has this got to do with Coke Rewards, the loyalty program that rewards frequent Coca-Cola drinkers like me with the promise of lots of free merchandise and services? Why bother with the contrived scenarios of those Real Housewives shows, when both Celebrity Rehab and Sober House guaranteed genuinely compelling theatrics? Couple that with celebrity doctor Drew Pinsky’s dubious counseling and you had the equivalent of using gasoline to put out a house fire.

You can preach all you want from your high horse about the exploitative nature of such a show, but the fact remains the concept was brilliant: Confine Sean Young, Heidi Fleiss, Gary Busey, Rodney King, Tawny Kitaen, Daniel Baldwin and a host of other celebrity addicts in a small building for three or four consecutive weeks without the booze and/or drugs they normally use to get by on a daily basis and then watch the fireworks. I found both shows’ real-life peek at celebrity addicts’ half-hearted attempts at recovery absolutely, well … addicting. I used to be absolutely mesmerized by VH1’s Celebrity Rehab and its companion program, Sober House. Have a coke and a smile - just stay away from their rewards program.

Coca cola points codes