It is odd how one is reminded that they have more numerical youth in their rear-view than in their windshield. Of course there are the normal signs of aging - grey hair, creeks and cracks, increased crotchetiness, an uptick in yelling at clouds. Those symptoms are all expected of course and are typically received without much fanfare or consternation; just a few more dashes of salt in the get off my lawn stew.
Its the subtle reminders of one's diminishing youth that tend to land the harshest. Reminders whose intent, at least on the surface, are not nefarious at all, yet upon deeper inspection, their true intention is revealed - nostalgia. Recently, I have experienced two such reminders that brought just as much glee as sigh.
It was the Spring of 1992. Yours truly was working in a mom-'n-pop seafood restaurant directly off the beach on the east coast of Florida. I was still very much in high school, but had worked in this restaurant for over a year and a half despite being much too young to legally work when I first started.
In short measure, I quickly learned of an underground economy that thrived in the local restaurant scene. A restaurant is supplied by dozens of vendors, ranging from the benign (paper goods) to the lust-worthy (steak, seafood, and desserts). No matter one's craving, satisfaction could be obtained through well-placed offerings to a desired vendor's delivery dude.
I never personally paid much attention to this pipeline of backscratching and pilfering until that fateful Spring when rumor spread that Pepsi would be releasing a clear version of their cola. Back then, Pepsi was my jam, it was after all the choice of a new generation! The idea of having a Pepsi that smelled like a Pepsi and tasted like a Pepsi but was clear as water was simply irresistible. I had to get a bottle as quickly as possible.
Immediately, I began questioning our Pepsi delivery dude, yet week after week we went around and around in the same song and dance circle:
"Crystal Pepsi? I have no idea what you are talking about."
"But come on man, you like work there! You drive their giant truck! You get to go inside their giant warehouse! You are like a Pepsi Oompa Loompa!"
"Whatever dude, listen, your tapped Mountain Dew is pretty low, you want me to leave you an extra one?"
"Yeah, sure, we can use an extra Dew. Listen, all I am saying is should a Crystal Pepsi make its way onto your truck, what can we do to ensure it finds its way here rather than say that crappy restaurant at the pier or in the hands of those rude New Yorkers that run that pizza place? What's it gonna take to bring that Crystal Pepsi to someone who will honor and respect it?"
"Dude, I don't know anything about Crystal Pepsi, hell I can't even stand normal Pepsi. Here is an extra Mountain Dew, I got to go"
"Thanks. Alright, I hear you, listen, all I am saying is that we have something special here. You are much more than just the Pepsi guy to us, you are part of the family here. All I am asking is that you keep your eyes open and don't forget who gave you this box of fried shrimp and hushpuppies for that long ride back"
Week after week turned into month after month of constant questioning and denial until one day when during his normal delivery, Pepsi Dude walked in with a metallic silver briefcase. Now I know what you are thinking - a metallic briefcase, this sounds straight out of a bad spy movie! A blue-collar delivery guy rolling in with a briefcase like that? All that was missing was the obligatory handcuff and chain permanently tethering him to the case.
He put the case down on the counter, looked me square in the eyes, and popped it open. Inside the case were three plastic bottles of Crystal Pepsi. Now mind you, at this point in time Crystal Pepsi had only been announced, not released. Yet here in my work area was a briefcase containing three bottles of this carbonated unicorn.
"They had some at the warehouse, said we could distribute to customers who might add it to their inventory, here you go"
Ultimately, Pepsi Dude gave me one of the three bottles and oh how I prized it. The bottle stayed in my workstation that night, perched like the true prize that it was. The servers asked when I planned to drink it, "maybe on graduation night" I fantasized, despite graduation night being well over a year away.
In the end however, like most fantasies, mine was short-lived and never realized. During the night's cleanup, my beloved bottle of Crystal Pepsi was commandeered by the restaurant's head chef (err cook) 'Big John'. He claimed that the entire staff should get to enjoy the bounty of my windfall. And that is how it came to pass that on a random Wednesday night in a sleepy Florida beach town, the staff of a humble seafood restaurant sat and laughed while sipping a clear carbonated beverage that tasted like Pepsi ... sorta.
To this day, I can easily remember that Wednesday night, even recalling oddly specific details. There has never been however a quantitative realization of just how many years have passed between that night and now. That was until very recently however when a good friend informed me that Pepsi had brought Crystal Pepsi back for one more round.
As you can imagine, a company that last year spent over two billion dollars on advertising alone spared no expense announcing the re-introduction of a nostalgic pop-culture legend.
Front and center in their advertising onslaught - the year of original introduction and poof, just like that, now associated with that epic Wednesday was a numeric reminder that that night occurred in a very different time than the one in which I currently reside:
http://www.pepsi.com/en-us/featured/crystal-pepsi-returns
The second nostalgic kick to the tender-bits is coming very soon, but this one is more of the 8-bit variety!
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