This particular apartment was filled with many unsavory moments but also featured some of the best in entertainment; from the first time I watched Tenacious D in the Pick of Destiny or the original Indiana Jones trilogy or finally giving football a chance. But nothing was more epic in terms of amusing memories than the long-awaited release of Super Smash Bros. Brawl.
Our friend, Mike (who worked with us at EMMC and lived next door) would constantly come over and play Melee in anticipation of the newest game in the series. We had become fast friends, and he was one of the biggest reasons why I began to enjoy football.
My Smash Bros. fervor reached a point where I had mapped out the route to the mall to reach Gamestop in the fastest time possible during the game’s midnight release. Luckily, most of that planning had already been completed due to my mad dash for a Wii preorder.
Travis had expressed an interest in making more money, and I had informed him of a position that opened up at Eastern Maine Medical Center in the kitchen with me; it was a different shift than mine, but there were a few hours of overlap. I feared I would trap him into leading down the same occupational line that I had once worked. Actually, so far he had: Potato Harvest, a few weeks at MBNA, Subway, and now EMMC. What was I doing to this poor boy?! The only two outliers he had were McDonald’s and a call center company called Sitel. Nevertheless, I wanted more for him (and admittedly, for myself).
It’s a good thing that this job was also close to home as winter, in particular, had been somewhat harsh as snow accumulated earlier than usual and the wind whipped through you, not just at you.
No, my life was consumed by something far more powerful: the desire to play video games. My gaming habits had diminished since the Gamecube had run its course and I found myself playing fewer video games. But as we all know, Kyle and I played so much Smash Bros. that my Hype Train began a-chuggin’.
WARNING: This chapter features some vulgar audio clips from my past.
My nomad status returned during the month of March, akin to my brother and I’s younger selves as a divorcee’s child. It was hard not “reminisce” shuttling between Dad’s, Mom’s, and the apartment. I knew I had to be happy and spend as much time with everyone as I was physically able. I mean, after all…
I WAS HOME! FOR GOOD!
But the connections were there. We threw a massive party, just like the event when we were released back into our Father’s care after our foster run.
My brother and I rarely got along while staying at Lori and Todd’s, but I had hoped that after this deadly ordeal, our fighting days were over. I couldn’t have been more wrong.