If you ever show up and we direct you to Lot 9, it's not a good thing. It's in Moclips. We actually took a vote in 2011. It's about a 2.7-hour drive from Redmond, and there is nobody there. It's an abandoned high school parking lot and you will feel kind of foolish if you show up ready for a party. You will sit there and nobody will care. Except the old guy who lives next door who will shuffle on over and want to snuggle.
If we sent you there, it's because you were probably acting like a giant Prickasaurus Rex in the Jurassic world of carnivorous pricklits. You scored a perfect 10.0001 on the prick-o-meter that morning. You were elected mayor of Pricksville, USA in a landslide. You're a seven-time gold medalist in the Olympricks. Frankly, you're just not a nice person and we called you out.
One of our secret ingredients is that we do on occasion, rare as it may be, kick people out for being jerks, usually with egos bigger than a typical Caribbean cruise ship could possibly hold. You know the big white ships with the crazy girls at the buffet eating all the lobster?
We needed a way to send someone out the exit without them knowing they were sent out the exit. We had Lots 1 to 8, but 9 was not at E@RTC, so we came up with a radio code, saying we were sending someone to Lot 9. Out they would go and we'd all get a good laugh. Still, we wanted a real Lot 9. We had to come up with a location that would fit the personality of E@RTC where everyone would think was funny. We thought about Lot 9 a very long time.
After a few seasons of E@RTC, the group of volunteers and their families would go to Seabrook, WA, rent a few houses and have a great time. The laughs would continue for days. While there we were out exploring the area and came across what we all agreed was the perfect Lot 9. We pulled Steve out of the back seat to inspect and carefully pondering the criteria before making the declaration.
We all stood around and thought about it, debated the distance, the ambience, amenities, the guy next door who wanted to snuggle and thought yup, this met all the criteria. Steve, being the analytical mind that he is, did his final check and said, "Yup, this is the spot." There were seven other yups.
We had to get out for a few group shots to make it an official documented declaration. Vic was still back at the cabin sleeping off a good hangover after streaking through Seabrook the night before. It was a hell of a show. Vic was surprisingly fast, with nothing but a giant bush to keep him warm...the other kind of bush.
It was time to go home. Nobody wanted to snuggle.
Another E@RTC problem solved.