This column is about cheap advertising and a guy named Eddie. It’s about the value of distracting yourself, and it’s about having fun too. It begins with "I know a guy named Eddie."
"So do I," you say. But my Eddie is special-believe me.
Listen: Eddie is the master of having fun. He is the master of rowdiness, booze and feeling good. Eddie is the first and only human being to ever get seriously injured playing Golden Tee.
Eddie is a student. Sometimes he goes to class with other students. Sometimes he falls asleep. He works with other students too-has to get a little bling. All the other times he’s having fun. Sometimes, when I’m feeling down, Eddie inspires me.
I find my "inner Eddie." It’s that voice telling me to get up to no good. I leave reality and enter a different world.
I wake up, open my fridge and instead of milk I see a forty of OE.
It’s Friday-it’s always Friday in Eddie time-and there’s a Soccer Cab. I head to school but I don’t go to class. Every time I enter a room I have theme music.
The Soccer Cab is amazing in Eddie time. Girls look like Anna Kournikova, Pilsner tastes like champagne and everyone has a smile on their face. I bump.
I grind.
Somewhere in there I hurt my hamstring. I don’t care about money or the fact that I should get a real job. I don’t care about classes or assignments either. I’m lost in the moment, utterly and completely drowned in a sea of mindless fun.
I know it can’t stay like this but I don’t care. Warren G is thumpin’ and my body is fully in tune with the bass line. I have a smile for everyone but no idea how I’ll get home or where I’ll wake up. I’m a wonderful human being.
Eventually, it’ll wear off. I’ll wake up somewhere the next morning and have a useless afternoon. My belly will punish me for what I did the night before. I will walk around with a faint feeling of accomplishment and a faint feeling of relief. Classes will start to avalanche again, work will get crappy, friends will get moody and the bliss will drift away.
I’ll go back to being me and I’ll
do what has to be done. Life will
be back to normal until the next time I reach back and find my "inner Eddie." Next time I feel cornered he’ll come out again. It’s not something my body can handle full time, but is a wonderful distraction
nevertheless.
Kris Kotarski can be reached at [email protected].