Dunkle and I cruised up to Starlake for the Pearl Jam show back in the late summer/early fall of 2000. We snagged the usual dumpster spot at the top of the steps and set up shop. The Maxima was nearing its demise. Right next to us was a giant bin filled with ice and Citra. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Citra, it's kind of like Fresca but without the nutrasweet/aspartame zing. They even had a male and female Citra representative from Coca Cola. I guess they were there to field questions and oversee giveaway operations. Anyway, I snagged a few gargabe bags from the "beer bottle police" and went to work. When the Citra reps moved off, I went to the bin and started filling up. Probably made about 5 separate Citra trips. I was loading up the trunk of the Maxima until it was full and then started in on the back seat. During one of the final trips, an undercover had busted this girl for underage drinking. He had her cornered up against my car and was filling out the citation. She's crying up a storm. Meanwhile, here I am on an entirely different mission. I'm hauling the garbage bag of Citra and it busts open leaving a trail of cans. I look at them both as I approach my car. "Excuse me you guys, I need to get in here." The cop gazes at me with this look of disbelief as I start dumping the garbage bag full of cans. Even the girl temporarily ceased her crying as she had trouble figuring out exactly what was transpiring. After all that commotion died down, we started to make our way into the venue. I saw the female Citra rep and she was back in action, promoting her cause and offering up free refreshment. She looked at me and asked if I'd like a sample can. I told her, "no, that would be stealing." She assured me that it was complimentary and I could have as many as I'd like. I told her that it just made me uncomfortable - getting something for nothing. After a few more back and forths, she just shrugged her shoulders and said ok. We continued hooping it up and slamming beers. For some reason, we decided to walk down to the other entrance. Before we left, I approached the Citra girl and told her I needed to show her something. She walked with me over to the car. I popped the trunk and, lo and behold, there were about 300 cans of Citra and the back seat probably had a couple cases in there as well. She looked at me with the same sense of disbelief the cop gave me an hour earlier. In fact, the trunk was so full, the car was weighted down. My struts were in pretty bad shape leading up to the incident to begin with.
We waited until the crowd died down and Dunkle decided to sneak some beers into the show. He lined his shorts with 3 beers. I was a little skepical of his brazenness because they ask you to lift up your shirt and spin around. Sure enough, the girl asks him to lift up his shirt. Dunkle complies and a beer can hits the ground and starts spraying her. Dunkle looks at her and points to a large pile of confiscated blankets. "These are mine." He picks up the stack and walks off into the distance. The same look of incredulity. This time from the gate attendant. All these looks of astonishment, wonderment and awe. You'd think these morons had never seen a rock concert.
Great show. They played a long encore and it was getting cold so we bolted. As the Maxima limped off the lot (due to the weight of the Citra), I came to the conclusion that it might be time for a new car. Unfortunately, that would lead to the worst decision I ever made - the 1997 Jeep Grand Cherokee aka shake, rattle and roll. However, on a lighter note, there would be plenty of Citra giveaways for weeks to follow.