Someone at CL had the stupid idea that we should do a taste test comparing the waters of Tampa, St. Petersburg and various bottled brands.

Then that same someone — OK, it was me — subjected his editorial staff to a blind tasting, complete with forms for assessing the "Taste," "Clarity" and "Mouth feel" of the water in six unlabeled bottles. And the forms left room for "Comments."

Is it any surprise that a few of the comments were a little, uh, unserious?

"A good after-dinner water."

"Watery."

"Too. Much. Water. Must. Stop. Before. I. Combust. Or. Explode. Or. Whatever."

What was I thinking?

Still, my staff played along pretty studiously, all things considered — the main thing to consider being the fact that water, is, well, water.

And no surprise: Water from the taps of St. Petersburg (my kitchen) and Tampa (CL's break room) tastes a whole lot crappier than water that's been filtered (my refrigerator) or bottled (Dasani) or gussied up with a fancy Italian name (which I forget).

The municipal waters won such encomia as:

"Imported from Mexico?"

"Tap-nasty, tastes toilety."

"Mouth feel: It felt my mouth."

"I won't even finish it. If I was on a desert island, I'd rather die of thirst than take another drop."

Harsh.

The Dasani won a few unfair points because it was the only water served cold, but that advantage still didn't enable it to launch past the big winner:

General Electric.

Yes, the water that comes from my refrigerator tap, St. Petersburg municipal water filtered via the genius of American refrigerator designers (or whoever makes GE refrigerators), was cheered heartily as:

"Crisp and refreshing!"

"Best so far."

"Closest to being water."

"Made me wish there was whiskey to go with it."

Hmmm … a Scotch tasting. Now there's an idea.

Urban Explorer's Handbook 2007

Sensory Overload Edition

Click here for the other senses

Taste