Writing Prompt: May 4 - "Life is like a sharp stick…"

"Life is like a sharp stick. Gotta pick that muggafugga up and chuck it into the future. Hope it hits somethin worth takin back to camp."

Eddie was about a six-pack into what would be a 24-pack kinda day. He was starting early and was making all the other, sober, adults at the community pool various shades of uncomfortable, wary, and outright flustered.

Karens have been trying to get rid of Eddie for years, but like a bad sunburn, he's here to stay... with his bad sunburn.

His wrinkled skin could have been 85 if it weren't clearly a 60 that had been toasted to a golden brown like a Popeye's thigh.

Where all the adults gave Eddie a wide berth, there was a certain age group of kids that thought he was the perfect adult to talk to. Mostly on the premise that no matter how long-winded and wandering their stories were, Eddie just smiled and drank and listened. Eddie's stories were about as addled as a 5 year old's, so it made a certain kind of sense.

Once they reached middle school, though, the kids started judging ol' Eddie, like their parents. They learned what the cans he kept cracking open were full of. They learned that, for some reason, it was not acceptable to open the first can at 10am on a Tuesday. They learned that, however entertaining, Eddie was not to be listened to.

That did not stop Eddie.

He listened to the younger kids, but saw it as his sworn duty to give life advice to the kids that were just old enough not to listen to the weird old weathered guy in the corner.

Hence, his colorful take on sharp sticks and life that fell on deaf middle school ears that, even if they had bothered to pay attention, would have shamelessly mocked him for his perspective rather than give it any mind at all.

I may have been one of the exceptions. I didn't mind Eddie and sometimes outright encouraged his tomfoolery.

"What's the biggest game you've brought back to life's camp, then, Eddie?"

Oh, I got him then! The youngers kinda circle round for a good story. The olders roll their eyes and take their opportunity to lounge in the shallow end. The adults give me a stink-eye.

"Helluva good question. Hella good. Yep, so back in '87, I chucked my sharp stick of life at..."

__________

I have no idea what he would have gone on to tell a story about, but I know I would totally listen to him tell it. Unfortunately, it's up to me to tell it and story within a story is just too Inception for me at the moment.