A rhetorical question- why are there so many Fast Eddies out there?
I have also run across his more twisted cousin- Crazy Eddy.
I met Crazy Eddy first. He lived in the dorm Freshman year. He was from Kallispell, and was seriously twisted. I kind of liked the guy- in a strictly platonic sense- he was funny as hell. I think he spent most of his youth running amok in the woods. He had that kind of mountain man/not well socialized where girls were concerned vibe. His college career came to an abrubt halt the first weekend before winter quarter. There was a party in his room. He was tanked. I walked in and he tossed something at me. I grabbed it out of the air, and started to shake. I knew what it was, but asked him, "Eddy, what is this?" He replied, "It's Jedomite." (He liked the name Jed for some reason, and carved it on desks across campus.) It was a stick of dynamite wrapped in plastic. I made him promise to put it in his desk and leave it there. Evidently he didn't remember his promise, because the FBI showed up the next day. He and the boy from the farm who brought it into the dorm were expelled. It was really quite dramatic. The last I heard, Crazy Eddy had joined the Army.
Fast Eddy was of a different ilk entirely. As unpolished as Crazy Eddy was, Fast Eddy was a booty call. I met him my Junior year, when a friend insisted that I accompany her to a Sigma Nu rush party. I didn't want her to go alone, so we went. I had a rule at those things- never, never get drunk and don't leave anyone behind. As things worked out, I didn't get drunk. But Fast Eddy was watching me from across the room. He invited me up to the chapter room (where they store the paddles and trophies- I'm not making any assumptions as to the proper use of either), and we made out. I wouldn't take it very far, and he got disgusted and we went back to the party. Then he denied that we ever met. Quite the gentleman, no? It got interesting when the friend I came with returned to the house a few days later. She was ripe for the picking, and spent the night with Fast Eddy. He came to the dorm for a repeat performance. Then he dumped her and never spoke to her again. She was silly enough to be surprised.
Whenever I smelled a nimbus cloud of Polo on the elevator, I knew that Fast Eddy was in the dorm. My guess is that he is an alcoholic who cheats on his wife.
So why Fast Eddy? And why Crazy Eddy? Why does Eddy get paired with adjectives so frequently? There was a Fast Eddy the other night on Reno 911. I don't think it was for the same reason.
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9 comments:
Wine coolers are tasty! I only had one--strawberry daquiri flavored. Lovely new discovery...but one is definitely enough.
Wine coolers? "New discovery?" Awww...to be young again.
Wine coolers are a horrible abberation to all things alcoholic.
I lost some of the best evenings of my youth to wine coolers. Spouse says they are the training wheels of the drinking set. It's like candy. We both started there.
And now we're drunks. At least one of us has a hangover today. Not me- I'm just saying- but one of us is feeling peckish. Maybe one wine cooler would've been a good idea last night.
Why wine coolers? Why not just wine? That was MY training. Home made, peasant wine from my Grandpops. I'm salivating just thinking of it.
My grandparents and father made wine in the 70s. But otherwise, the pickins were slim. And wine coolers were the newest best thing. So wine coolers it was. We all felt so cool and adult.
Wine coolers, yes, because I am new to drinking (even though I am almost 22) and wine makes me want to vomit. They are like candy!!!! Dangerous adult candy.
Crazy Eddy became either the Unabomber, or some socially-inept, perverted cross-dresser living in a log cabin in...oh...let's say Missoula.
But...to answer your original question: This world is full of Fast Eddies, only they're terrible at it and some of us see right through them. That's the problem...the terrifying numbers of Fast Eddies out there who think they're unique and who think they're actually leaving footprints in this lousy life of ours.
The Fast Eddies are probably just spreading biological hazards. I fully expect him to be a typical balding, fat faithless husband with a sad and nervous wreck of a wife.
And if you do know Crazy Eddy, please don't point him in my direction- he was nice and all, but I don't need more munitions experts in my life. I'm trying to wrap my head around him getting into West Point- doesn't that take a letter from a congressman? Oh yeah, I'm from Montana. That makes sense now.
Oh and LX- Missoula is a town that lacks the shall we say, fire in the belly to produce a unibomber. The mood is too mellow. That's why Crazy Eddy didn't fit right. The unibomber lived near Helena- my home town- and it makes a LOT of sense to me. You can write poetry in Missoula, and fiction, but manifestos would be a stretch.
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