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.
The whole “nearly dying” thing really awoke me from my slumber. I had been too content in enjoying my life, so much so that I almost forgot to fear my myriad near run-ins with the Grim Reaper! The good news was that this “anxiety attack” was an error; I wasn’t really dying and so, I was able to mentally separate that event from a real flight-or-fight worthy response. My senses had been restored and I could now resume my normal life.
Oh, that’s right, I still had to work at MBNA making calls dutifully but never pushing people past their point of rational thought. I carefully laid out the terms of the credit card I was selling at the time and never lied to the customers (like I had heard some other people doing). It kept my conscience – and the money I earned there – clean.
I sat in my hospital bed in Room 864 (the new gold standard), watching the IV drip poison into my chest. The machine gears sounded off with grunts and cracks. Unfortunately, that meant it was working as designed.