May 9, 2024 • 14 mins
COLLEGE BOY could easily be subtitled Life on Easy Street or Made in the Shade.
Ed’s young, spoiled, apathetic, takes a whole lot for granted. He doesn’t like to push himself, physically or mentally. He just wants to… slide and glide.
Ed’s a Zoomer.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:05):
Welcome to the ten Minute Storyteller. That's me Bill Simpson,
your host, narrator and author. We hear at the ten
minute Storyteller endeavor to entertain you with tall tales or
rendered swiftly and with the utmost empathy. We pledge to
(00:25):
pack as much entertainment, emotion, and exploration into the human
condition as ten minutes will permit. Mini novels on steroids.
Today's offering is entitled College Boy. It could easily be
(00:48):
subtitled Life on Easy Street or Made in the Shade.
Ed's young, spoiled, apathetic takes a whole lot for granted,
he doesn't like to push himself physically or mentally. He
just wants to slide and glide. Ed's a zoomer college boy.
(01:16):
The old man gave young Ed the ultimatum, get a job,
go back to school, or hit the road. Jack Eddie
really couldn't blame the old man. It had been over
a month since he'd sort of quit school. He hadn't
gone back after Christmas break, couldn't take any more psych statistics, economics,
(01:38):
or history of the ancients. During this time. He hasn't
done dick, at least not in the get Ahead in
life department. He's smoked some dope, tied on some fine
rye and ginger ale, buzzes at limbs where he shoots
pool and throws darts. He's gotten laid a few times,
(02:00):
though not by any prime candidates to bring home to
meet mom. And now now Eddie has found what he
tells his smoke and pub buds is absolutely the world's
cushiest job, one hundred percent busting. What what is it?
Stockbroker christ snow elephant trainer, you're a ass well what then?
(02:25):
Get this plant waterer? Say what bro Yep made in
the shade blade made in the shade plant waterer? Ed
works at Flows Florist up in Chester works back here
in the greenhouses. Flow's got three giant greenhouses out behind
(02:46):
her shop where she sells flowers and plants and pots
and potting soil and lawn ornaments like gnomes and those
little smirking irish wise asses what do you call them? Leprecauns?
Fucking a leprecauns. Eddie arrives at work about seven forty five.
(03:07):
He doesn't have to show till eight, but after just
a couple days he realized if he's snuck in early
and went straight back to the greenhouses. He could avoid
all the gibber jabber with the blue haired ladies who
work up front and the douchebag drivers who run the
delivery vans for Flow morons, dumb as houseplants, dead enders.
(03:33):
Eddie whistles while he works while he waters using a
fine mist and picks the dead leaves off the ficus
and violets and roses, spider plants and strawberry begonias and philodendrons.
What Flow calls the world's most indestructible houseplant. A husband
(03:54):
couldn't kill it. At nine point thirty, he takes his
fifteen minute break out behind the giant mulch pile. It's
colder than a witch is tit out here, plus the
north wind blows a freaking gale, but he still manages
to get his spliff lit, takes two good hits licks
(04:15):
his thumb and index finger extinguishes the burning ember. Eddie,
as happy and calm and mellow as any human has
the right to be on this god forsaken planet, drifting
all alone through infinity, emerges from behind the mulch pile
and floats back toward the rear greenhouse door. He's got
(04:40):
some root bound ivy plants to repot, and with this
delightful little buzz boosting his spirits and a playlist of
little Nazas and Dojia, cat Edge, Searhan and Dua lip
hopping and be bopping in his AirPods. Well, well, hell,
the morning feels just super steady and dan dandy. He
(05:04):
pulls open the door. Eddie, for the love of God,
there you are. It's Flow, red faced, face on fire, Flow, ancient, pitiless,
hard as nails, with the gimp leg and the right
shoe with the four inch sole wearing blazes. Have you been, Eddie? Well,
(05:24):
I was never mind follow me, Follow you upfront, up front.
You have a driver's license, correct, Eddie. Flow marches on
that gimp leg like old General Washington himself, closing in
on Trenton. It's Benjamin, Eddie. He's sick, some stomach thing.
(05:44):
He threw up all over the bathroom. I sent him home.
You need to cover me cover. I need you to drive, Eddie,
I need you to deliver. Drive deliver. Ed feels like
he's well two stone to drive, let alone deliver. Flow
turns and faces him. She's close enough he feels her
(06:08):
spittle on his face. It's the busiest goddamn day of
the year, Eddie, do you hear me? The busiest goddamn
day of the year. Over six hundred orders to get out,
six hundred orders, and I'm down a driver on Valentine's Day.
Valentine's Day, mutter zaid who knew. Minutes later, Edie climbs
(06:30):
into the van and tries to make himself comfy after
freaking out. Flow assured him the job was as easy
as taking out the trash. A husband could do it.
Everything is all programmed, the route, the directions, the deliveries.
All ed has to do is drive the van, take
(06:50):
the flowers to the front door, and say thanks so
much for shopping at Flo's neighborhood florist. And at first
all goes well. The big GPS screen on the dash
displays fifteen o three Valley Road as his first stop,
and below the address the turn by turn directions two
(07:12):
fifteen o three. He arrives twelve minutes later, grabs the
box of pink roses out of the back with the
same address, and with a royally stoned smile on his face,
he makes the delivery to a very nice lady who
hands him a twenty dollars tip. One down, sixty four
(07:34):
deliveries to go. The next dozen or so go off
without a hitch. This Ed thinks is easy schmazy, maybe
even easier than back in the greenhouses. But then well,
then the proverbial shit begins to hit. The florist van.
(07:55):
Backing out of a tight driveway, big bushy hedgerow on
the driver side, tall pines on the passenger side, he
catches the large passenger side mirror on a hanging limb.
Uh oh. He checks it out, curses several times. The
mirror hangs by a thread. Ed has no choice. He
(08:16):
rips off the mirror entirely and tosses it onto the
passenger seat. Oh man, Flow is gonna chew my ass
out for that, And then like three stops later, his
buzz all burned out. The GPS goes down on one
second and dead the next. Christ now what he calls
(08:39):
the store doesn't mention the mirror. Flows screams, oh for
crying out loud, Eddie, I have no time for this.
Try to reset the thing. If it won't reset, use
the print out. Be sure to match the address with
the package. That's the key, but how will I find
the address? Is slow? The houses I have like forty
(08:59):
more go but don't have a clue where any of
them are. God, use your phone, college boy, your phone.
The GPS on your phone show some goddamn initiative, you idiot,
and Flow hangs up. Eddie types the next address into
the Google Maps on his iPhone, finds it, makes the delivery,
(09:22):
types in another address, makes another delivery. It's slow going,
but at least he's moving, emptying the damn van of
all these stupid flowers that'll be dead in days. And then,
because well, because he's been playing tunes NonStop, his iPhone
goes dead and he has no way to recharge it.
(09:46):
It starts to snow, just lightly at first, but then well,
a little heavier. He asks a cop for directions to
six six ' six Maple Lean tells him, but on
the way, Eddie gets turned around, turns left when he
should have turned right. Finally, frustrated, he leaves the box
(10:09):
of two dozen red roses at a house that he
thinks is six sixty six Maple Lane. It's not jittery now,
and a little flumixed, Ed begins to contemplate his future
a couple more years of college, and then slide into
the old man's money printing biz. Okay, not the most
(10:32):
exciting or challenging work on earth, but definitely beats this bullshit.
Snow really coming down now the afternoon, flying by, Ed
decides to take a hit, just one, just one little hit,
to cool himself off, calm himself down. The next half
(10:52):
dozen or so deliveries definitely wind up at the wrong houses,
and then as dusk begins to gather, the GPS suddenly
pops back on again. Too bad. The side roads are
all mucked up with six inches of wet snow. The van,
running on some less than stellar tires, flow loaths spending
(11:16):
money on overhead, slips and slides all over the road
like a drunk on ice skates. Eddie slides, swerves, hits
a mailbox and knocks the driver's side mirror off. The
van doesn't even bother to pick it up, just leaves
it there on the wet street and drives on. Takes
another hit, tells himself he's like the postman, makes his
(11:38):
deliveries no matter snow, sleet, rain, hell or high water. Hell,
it's not worried his future is secure. The van slides
going down a steep driveway, hits a stone wall, crunches,
the front bumper shatters the driver's side headlight. Wow, says Ed. Finally,
(12:01):
just after seven pm, Eddie, on one working headlight, makes
his final delivery, just sort of tosses the box of
flowers up onto some random porch. He takes a nice,
big hit to celebrate. The empty van finally gets back
to Flows around seven thirty. She looks him up and down, demands,
(12:23):
where in blazes have you been? What in blazes took
you so damn long? Eddie man moody gps in that van?
Flow and some pretty funky weather out there. You looked
out the window lately. Ed doesn't mention the damage to
the van or the dozens of deliveries that likely went awry.
(12:45):
The phone rings, Flow answers. Eddie sees Flow glance at
him and scowl. Undoubtedly an irate customer looking for his
or her Valentine's Day. Roses Ed, certain there will soon
be hell to pay, decides to vamouse scadattle. Definitely time
(13:06):
to get out of dodge avoid the wrath of Flow.
At home, he drinks a couple beers, eats a cold chicken,
Leggy finds in the fridge and says to his old man,
you know, Dad, you know I've been doing some soul
searching lately, some serious thinking about my future, and you know, well,
(13:27):
I've decided I made a mistake, maybe even a pretty
big mistake. College is definitely where I belong. In fact,
I think it's best if I if I high tail
it back there first thing in the morning. Thanks for
(13:50):
listening to this original audio presentation of college Boy, narrated
by the author. If you enjoy today's story, please take
a few seconds to rate, review, and subscribe to this podcast.
The Ten Minute Storyteller is produced by Andrew PLEGLSI and
(14:12):
Josh Coladney and as part of the Elvis Duran Podcast
Network in partnership with Iheartproductions. Until next time, this is
Bill Simpson, your ten Minute Storyteller,
Welcome to the ten Minute Storyteller. That's me Bill Simpson,
your host, narrator and author. We hear at the ten
minute Storyteller endeavor to entertain you with tall tales or
rendered swiftly and with the utmost empathy. We pledge to
(00:25):
pack as much entertainment, emotion, and exploration into the human
condition as ten minutes will permit. Mini novels on steroids.
Today's offering is entitled College Boy. It could easily be
(00:48):
subtitled Life on Easy Street or Made in the Shade.
Ed's young, spoiled, apathetic takes a whole lot for granted,
he doesn't like to push himself physically or mentally. He
just wants to slide and glide. Ed's a zoomer college boy.
(01:16):
The old man gave young Ed the ultimatum, get a job,
go back to school, or hit the road. Jack Eddie
really couldn't blame the old man. It had been over
a month since he'd sort of quit school. He hadn't
gone back after Christmas break, couldn't take any more psych statistics, economics,
(01:38):
or history of the ancients. During this time. He hasn't
done dick, at least not in the get Ahead in
life department. He's smoked some dope, tied on some fine
rye and ginger ale, buzzes at limbs where he shoots
pool and throws darts. He's gotten laid a few times,
(02:00):
though not by any prime candidates to bring home to
meet mom. And now now Eddie has found what he
tells his smoke and pub buds is absolutely the world's
cushiest job, one hundred percent busting. What what is it?
Stockbroker christ snow elephant trainer, you're a ass well what then?
(02:25):
Get this plant waterer? Say what bro Yep made in
the shade blade made in the shade plant waterer? Ed
works at Flows Florist up in Chester works back here
in the greenhouses. Flow's got three giant greenhouses out behind
(02:46):
her shop where she sells flowers and plants and pots
and potting soil and lawn ornaments like gnomes and those
little smirking irish wise asses what do you call them? Leprecauns?
Fucking a leprecauns. Eddie arrives at work about seven forty five.
(03:07):
He doesn't have to show till eight, but after just
a couple days he realized if he's snuck in early
and went straight back to the greenhouses. He could avoid
all the gibber jabber with the blue haired ladies who
work up front and the douchebag drivers who run the
delivery vans for Flow morons, dumb as houseplants, dead enders.
(03:33):
Eddie whistles while he works while he waters using a
fine mist and picks the dead leaves off the ficus
and violets and roses, spider plants and strawberry begonias and philodendrons.
What Flow calls the world's most indestructible houseplant. A husband
(03:54):
couldn't kill it. At nine point thirty, he takes his
fifteen minute break out behind the giant mulch pile. It's
colder than a witch is tit out here, plus the
north wind blows a freaking gale, but he still manages
to get his spliff lit, takes two good hits licks
(04:15):
his thumb and index finger extinguishes the burning ember. Eddie,
as happy and calm and mellow as any human has
the right to be on this god forsaken planet, drifting
all alone through infinity, emerges from behind the mulch pile
and floats back toward the rear greenhouse door. He's got
(04:40):
some root bound ivy plants to repot, and with this
delightful little buzz boosting his spirits and a playlist of
little Nazas and Dojia, cat Edge, Searhan and Dua lip
hopping and be bopping in his AirPods. Well, well, hell,
the morning feels just super steady and dan dandy. He
(05:04):
pulls open the door. Eddie, for the love of God,
there you are. It's Flow, red faced, face on fire, Flow, ancient, pitiless,
hard as nails, with the gimp leg and the right
shoe with the four inch sole wearing blazes. Have you been, Eddie? Well,
(05:24):
I was never mind follow me, Follow you upfront, up front.
You have a driver's license, correct, Eddie. Flow marches on
that gimp leg like old General Washington himself, closing in
on Trenton. It's Benjamin, Eddie. He's sick, some stomach thing.
(05:44):
He threw up all over the bathroom. I sent him home.
You need to cover me cover. I need you to drive, Eddie,
I need you to deliver. Drive deliver. Ed feels like
he's well two stone to drive, let alone deliver. Flow
turns and faces him. She's close enough he feels her
(06:08):
spittle on his face. It's the busiest goddamn day of
the year, Eddie, do you hear me? The busiest goddamn
day of the year. Over six hundred orders to get out,
six hundred orders, and I'm down a driver on Valentine's Day.
Valentine's Day, mutter zaid who knew. Minutes later, Edie climbs
(06:30):
into the van and tries to make himself comfy after
freaking out. Flow assured him the job was as easy
as taking out the trash. A husband could do it.
Everything is all programmed, the route, the directions, the deliveries.
All ed has to do is drive the van, take
(06:50):
the flowers to the front door, and say thanks so
much for shopping at Flo's neighborhood florist. And at first
all goes well. The big GPS screen on the dash
displays fifteen o three Valley Road as his first stop,
and below the address the turn by turn directions two
(07:12):
fifteen o three. He arrives twelve minutes later, grabs the
box of pink roses out of the back with the
same address, and with a royally stoned smile on his face,
he makes the delivery to a very nice lady who
hands him a twenty dollars tip. One down, sixty four
(07:34):
deliveries to go. The next dozen or so go off
without a hitch. This Ed thinks is easy schmazy, maybe
even easier than back in the greenhouses. But then well,
then the proverbial shit begins to hit. The florist van.
(07:55):
Backing out of a tight driveway, big bushy hedgerow on
the driver side, tall pines on the passenger side, he
catches the large passenger side mirror on a hanging limb.
Uh oh. He checks it out, curses several times. The
mirror hangs by a thread. Ed has no choice. He
(08:16):
rips off the mirror entirely and tosses it onto the
passenger seat. Oh man, Flow is gonna chew my ass
out for that, And then like three stops later, his
buzz all burned out. The GPS goes down on one
second and dead the next. Christ now what he calls
(08:39):
the store doesn't mention the mirror. Flows screams, oh for
crying out loud, Eddie, I have no time for this.
Try to reset the thing. If it won't reset, use
the print out. Be sure to match the address with
the package. That's the key, but how will I find
the address? Is slow? The houses I have like forty
(08:59):
more go but don't have a clue where any of
them are. God, use your phone, college boy, your phone.
The GPS on your phone show some goddamn initiative, you idiot,
and Flow hangs up. Eddie types the next address into
the Google Maps on his iPhone, finds it, makes the delivery,
(09:22):
types in another address, makes another delivery. It's slow going,
but at least he's moving, emptying the damn van of
all these stupid flowers that'll be dead in days. And then,
because well, because he's been playing tunes NonStop, his iPhone
goes dead and he has no way to recharge it.
(09:46):
It starts to snow, just lightly at first, but then well,
a little heavier. He asks a cop for directions to
six six ' six Maple Lean tells him, but on
the way, Eddie gets turned around, turns left when he
should have turned right. Finally, frustrated, he leaves the box
(10:09):
of two dozen red roses at a house that he
thinks is six sixty six Maple Lane. It's not jittery now,
and a little flumixed, Ed begins to contemplate his future
a couple more years of college, and then slide into
the old man's money printing biz. Okay, not the most
(10:32):
exciting or challenging work on earth, but definitely beats this bullshit.
Snow really coming down now the afternoon, flying by, Ed
decides to take a hit, just one, just one little hit,
to cool himself off, calm himself down. The next half
(10:52):
dozen or so deliveries definitely wind up at the wrong houses,
and then as dusk begins to gather, the GPS suddenly
pops back on again. Too bad. The side roads are
all mucked up with six inches of wet snow. The van,
running on some less than stellar tires, flow loaths spending
(11:16):
money on overhead, slips and slides all over the road
like a drunk on ice skates. Eddie slides, swerves, hits
a mailbox and knocks the driver's side mirror off. The
van doesn't even bother to pick it up, just leaves
it there on the wet street and drives on. Takes
another hit, tells himself he's like the postman, makes his
(11:38):
deliveries no matter snow, sleet, rain, hell or high water. Hell,
it's not worried his future is secure. The van slides
going down a steep driveway, hits a stone wall, crunches,
the front bumper shatters the driver's side headlight. Wow, says Ed. Finally,
(12:01):
just after seven pm, Eddie, on one working headlight, makes
his final delivery, just sort of tosses the box of
flowers up onto some random porch. He takes a nice,
big hit to celebrate. The empty van finally gets back
to Flows around seven thirty. She looks him up and down, demands,
(12:23):
where in blazes have you been? What in blazes took
you so damn long? Eddie man moody gps in that van?
Flow and some pretty funky weather out there. You looked
out the window lately. Ed doesn't mention the damage to
the van or the dozens of deliveries that likely went awry.
(12:45):
The phone rings, Flow answers. Eddie sees Flow glance at
him and scowl. Undoubtedly an irate customer looking for his
or her Valentine's Day. Roses Ed, certain there will soon
be hell to pay, decides to vamouse scadattle. Definitely time
(13:06):
to get out of dodge avoid the wrath of Flow.
At home, he drinks a couple beers, eats a cold chicken,
Leggy finds in the fridge and says to his old man,
you know, Dad, you know I've been doing some soul
searching lately, some serious thinking about my future, and you know, well,
(13:27):
I've decided I made a mistake, maybe even a pretty
big mistake. College is definitely where I belong. In fact,
I think it's best if I if I high tail
it back there first thing in the morning. Thanks for
(13:50):
listening to this original audio presentation of college Boy, narrated
by the author. If you enjoy today's story, please take
a few seconds to rate, review, and subscribe to this podcast.
The Ten Minute Storyteller is produced by Andrew PLEGLSI and
(14:12):
Josh Coladney and as part of the Elvis Duran Podcast
Network in partnership with Iheartproductions. Until next time, this is
Bill Simpson, your ten Minute Storyteller,
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