The Life and Times of Ed (First Story, Comedic/Gag)
Ed couldn’t believe his luck. He was with company he never expected to have, at a place he never expected to be. The concert in Bone Square. A ruckus of punk rock bands competing to see who could shriek the most offensive lyrics and slam the most obnoxious guitar chords. Certainly not the scene for a corporate busybody like himself. But he was here. He was here for his co-worker. And his co-worker was passed out in the green room, on his lap of all wonderful places.
“Oh, Checkers,” Ed mused, petting his co-worker’s hair. My Checkers.
He’d been noticing Checkers more as of late. And Checkers noticed Ed in the crowd, almost immediately when he went on to kick tail on that bass guitar of his. It was honestly quite cute how flustered he got over that instrument. He was an exceptional player yet it seemed he was self-conscious all the same. ‘Everyone swoons over the lead guitarists,’ he told Ed before all those rum slushies introduced him to the Sandman. Well, Ed thought as he stroked his co-worker’s hair, that idiot mustn’t have been paying much attention! I’ve been swooning over him the moment he spotted me from the stage.
This was one of the two problems troubling Ed this evening. Between the meetings and the paperwork, when he had the free time to dwell on the matter, Ed had his suspicions. Wasn’t a girlfriend supposed to materialize at his side at some point? It never happened. What did the kids call not having interest in anyone? An ace? Or was that a flush? He didn’t know cards any better than he did feelings. But there was no denying it now. He had feelings for Checkers and he didn’t know what to do about that. Worse yet, and far more immediate, was the second problem.
Damn it, Ed thought, I really gotta use the bathroom.
Life had a way of keeping Ed on his toes. Or in this case, his behind pinned to the couch. The weight of Checkers’ passed out body was too much for Ed to pick up off of him. It occurred to him he’d considered going to the gym before. It also occurred to him that thought was filed away three years ago. There was no getting up.
“Even when we’re not at work,” Ed muttered, his fingers trailing through the soft hair on the back of Checkers’ heavy head, “you still find a way to be a pain in my ass.” He grabbed a chunk of hair then. Checkers kept on snoring.
Even his snoring is cute. God, I really hate this guy. Meanwhile, Ed could feel the flutter in his heart telling him, ‘Oh really, mister? Is that what we’re feeling right now?’ There was a lot more than his cute co-worker in his lap to ponder. What did it mean to like guys? Why Checkers? Sure, Ed thought, I’ve always admired handsome men but that’s not like it meant I was-
The door slammed open. Ed cried out, “Eeh!” Checkers continued to snore. “W-wait,” Ed stammered, his heart now switching gears from a flutter to a proper heart attack, “this isn’t what it looks like, really. I-I can explain!”
A pair of security guards from the venue stormed into the room. The third guard, the senior most one who stayed in the back, spoke with a gruff tone, “There’s no time to explain. Get’em up already, boys.”
The guards, notably without much struggle, maneuvered Checkers off of Ed and left him sleeping peacefully on the couch. Ed was sure but he might’ve heard him mutter, ‘No, no, my boss said he would pay for it.’
Ed gulped. He knew he was paying for it now. Sneaking into the green room for his friend to crash? Oh sure, Checkers played on stage, and boy did he play well, but this must’ve been trespassing at this point, “Please,” Ed said as the guards pulled him away from the couch, “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
How much did they see? Don’t tell me they saw me fondling up a storm with my co-worker’s hair! Already Ed could envision himself behind bars. A neon sign above his cage reading, ‘Pervert!’ And there in the back, Checkers looking away in shame, ‘I always knew that guy was a creep.’
“What are you talking about?” The senior guard asked. “The trouble is outside.”
That snapped Ed back to the present, “Outside?”
The guards let go of Ed’s arms and the senior nodded, “Yup. Got us an altercation. Like every concert. It’s looking like it’s about to turn ugly too.”
“Right,” Ed said. “Why exactly are you telling me?”
“Well,” the senior snorted, “earlier you made Lou, the guard at the door, run off. Something about his job being easy and you being able to do it better.”
“What!?” Ed cried. “Eh, yes, it’s true we spoke and he ran off but I never said I could do his job!”
Got what on camera!? “I never said that!”
One of the other guards crossed his arms, “Lou was a legend.”
“Look,” the senior guard said, “I don’t know what words might’ve been exchanged or why you would choose to belittle a working man like that.” Ed tried to insist again he didn’t but he was ignored by the senior, “What I do know is that there’s two angry fellas in the plaza. They’re about to go at it and since you made Lou run off, well, the way I see it is you’re the man for the job.”
“That can’t be how this works,” Ed said, “you guys are security and you’re nominating me to get between two angry men? This can’t be legal.”
The senior shrugged, “I don’t think it is, no.”
Ed looked at the guards and initiated an awkward pause. The guards stared back, expectantly. Checkers was still on the couch, sleeping. Ed’s legs ached. He really had to use the bathroom.
It would’ve been nice to process his feelings. After all, realizing you like someone, another guy, it sort of demands a couple minutes to address. But such was Ed’s life. Standing in the open and cold air of Bone Square. Two drunks about to poke holes into each other. And somehow Ed, with a bladder begging him to hurry, had to resolve it.
“Of course one of them is Randy,” Ed grumbled.
Randy was the lead guitarist in Checkers’ band. The one who made Checkers feel self-conscious about ‘only’ playing bass. That bastard, Ed cursed, that’s the worst part about him. He made my Checkers think he wasn’t awesome out there. Ed paused. That sort of thought was one he really wanted to unpack. Unfortunately, the guards were egging him on.
“Go on, show us how easy it is!”
“I’m 5’7,” Ed cried, “what do you expect me to do!?”
“I would’ve guessed 5’5,” one of the guards mumbled.
Ed would’ve happily argued with them were it not for nature’s call twisting the knife in his guts. Speaking of twisting the knife, the other delinquent flashed their’s. “Look what I got,” the punk, who sported two mohawks and a kilt, said, “I’m gonna spell my name in your chest with this! P.E.T.R.”
“T.E.R.,” corrected a petite young goth from the side.
“Ah,” Peter wagged the knife at his goth companion, “that’s a good point.”
The goth groaned, “Oh my G-o-o-o-d.”
Oh my God, Ed thought, they really want me to get between a drunken guitarist and a guy with a knife? Ed turned back to the guards who by all right should’ve handled the matter five minutes ago. They simply nodded before Ed could even ask if they were serious about all this.
“Come at me, chomsky,” Randy yelled back at Peter. “When this is over I’ll have you hung out by that dress!”
“It’s not a dress, it’s a kilt!”
Come on, Ed. You’re a manager. It’s literally your job to manage idiots like this. Remember that time you convinced Lisa and Jane to put aside their differences by having them stop talking to each other? This is exactly like that! Now get on with this so you can find a bathroom already!
“Alright, here goes nothing…” Ed went to fix his tie, remembered he didn’t put one on tonight as public concerts were at least business casual, and stepped forward between the two drunks. “Gentlemen, please, there’s no reason for this to escalate any further than-”
“Oh great,” Randy spat, “this asshole again. Go back to your job, Eddy. Go job away from here.”
“First of all, my name is Ed. Second, I’m only here to suggest the two of you walk away. I’m sure whatever the drama was, it’s not worth throwing your lives away.”
“Yes, it is,” Randy said. “He said I played my solo off-key!”
“You did play it off-key!” Peter yelled. “Legacy’s best song and you fudged it!”
“I’ll fudge you up,” Randy said.
Great, they’re even more fired up than before. Ed considered how to deescalate the situation. He found himself glancing toward Randy. What a pain in my back end. When I first saw Mr. Big Shot here I almost thought he was Checkers’ man.
Checkers, Ed thought. Does Checkers even swing like that? Am I certain I swing like that? All these damn feelings! Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place! I need to resolve this mess already. If I do that…well…I can get back to my Checkers.
“Alright,” Ed said, with an extra pinch of authority. “Randy, as you’ll remember, I bought your drinks earlier this evening. So if you wouldn’t mind, you can pay me back by dropping this whole fight and walking away.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Randy snapped. “If you say the drinks were on you then you don’t turn around saying I owe you.”
Ungrateful jerk! Checkers would listen to me in his shoes. I mean, he’d have to because I’m his boss but he’d still find reason sooner than this dick!
Ed rubbed his chin as an idea took hold. Wait a second. Back at the office, I’m the boss. So maybe the trick isn’t reason but simply laying down the law!
A sly smile came to Ed before he addressed Randy with a stern voice, “That’s enough, Randy. I already asked you nicely to back off. Now I’m telling you to walk away.” And now for the coup de grâce! “That’s an order!”
Randy blinked. All of Bone Square became silent. Until the guitarist found his voice, “Woah…are you singling me out because I’m hispanic?”
“You are,” Randy yelled, “I don’t see you giving the business to the other guy!”
“I don’t know the other guy!” Ed cried.
“So that gives you the right to boss me around, huh?” Randy spat once more. He adjusted his leather jacket, a striking look of sobriety now on his face. “All because my last name is Rodriguez.”
“I didn’t know your last name!”
“The hell, man!?” To Ed’s surprise, it was Peter’s voice. “So you can’t even, like, perceive him!?”
“I literally didn’t know his name,” Ed said.
“What next?” Peter asked. “You think it’s weird there’s taco stands in Bone Square?”
“It is weird there’s this many in the same place,” Ed said, a coat of sweat now forming on his forehead. “That much competition in the same market would drive prices down. If some spec’d into other ethnic food they’d fill a different niche, that’s just common sense for a business to operate by!”
Peter shook his head, “Damn, you’re a chud, man.” Peter put away the knife and linked up with Randy. “A total chud.” The two walked off, concerningly in the direction of a bar, as if they weren’t moments ago threatening to kill one another. The goth from earlier joined them.
Ed let out a sigh, “Why am I always the bad guy? Well, whatever! The situation is resolved.”
“Yeah, not quite,” the senior guard said as he approached Ed. “I heard you say you bought the drinks for the guy in the leather jacket.”
Ed shrugged, “Well, I may have given a hundred to the bar. It wasn’t my idea to-”
“Grab’em, boys,” the senior said. The other guards hooked their arms around Ed. He let out a pitiful yelp while the senior set his arms akimbo, “We got an ordinance at this venue. Reckless enablement.”
“And you’re still a son of a gun. You make me sick, in fact! Might be the weaselly face. Anywho, since you filled the tap for all that trouble I figure you can spend a night in the brig while I write up the fine for the disturbance.”
For a moment, Ed struggled with the guards. Then he recalled neglecting to ever visit the gym. The guards dragged him back inside and there at the door he spotted Checkers, sluggish but very much awake. Oh perfect.
“Ed?” He asked. “What did you do?”
Ed flushed upon being noticed by his inebriated co-worker, “I did warn you, Checkers. I’m a regular party animal!” When he was shoved around the corner and out of sight from the man he’d spend the rest of the evening thinking about, Ed asked, “Can I at least use the bathroom first?”
The senior thought it over. “No.”
They closed the door behind themselves. Ed sank to the floor. At the very least, it didn’t say ‘Pervert’ above his cell.
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