Enchilada Ed

28

Just a lightning strike in my life. Ed silently repeated those seven words to himself so many times that he feared they'd accidentally spill out of his mouth and the producers and sound engineers who scurried around him would think he was genuinely crazy. His mom had struck up a conversation with one of the interns about Shonda Rhimes, and was therefore oblivious to Ed's now probably-very-obvious stage fright. Ed cracked all the knuckles of his left hand and pictured thunderstorms and cooling spring rain.

"She's a real boss," Ed's mom gushed, "I'd love to meet her."

"Oh totally," the intern agreed. "I saw the back of her head once."

"Is it just as impressive as I imagine it to be?" Ed's mom asked.

"Girl, you don't even know," the intern patted Ed's mom's arm.

Ed began to crack the knuckles of his right hand.

"Ed!" Ed's mom crinkled her nose, "Quit that!"

"Hmmm?" Ed blinked.

"Don't be gross," Ed's mom said, "You wouldn't be the Internet's boyfriend if girls saw you doing that."

"Doing what?" Ed looked down at his hands.

"We just started playing the introduction video," a producer ducked his head into Ed's dressing room, "Ellen needs Ed on deck right now."

"On deck?" Ed repeated.

"Backstage," the intern directed Ed out into the hallway.

"Right," Ed mentally tried to check the function of his spleen. So far, he felt nothing unusual. Was this a good sign?

A sound technician tested the microphone clipped on Ed's shirt.

"Don't be nervous kid," she glanced at Ed's face, "she's great."

***

Ed could see Ellen's yellow head from backstage. A giant television screen behind her flashed several of the tweets people had written about him. One of the show's reporters made a joke about the paltry work ethic of teenagers in the video's voice over. And then-

"From Linden Valley, Pennsylvania," Ellen shouted, "Enchilada Ed!"

A member of the stage crew gave Ed a slight push on the small of his back. Ed obediently walked out in front of the cameras. He quickly became aware of the howling applause all around him. Oh shit, he thought, there's actually an audience.

Ellen stood up and gave him a warm hug.

Of course there's an audience, you lunkhead, Ed smiled at Ellen, it's the Ellen DeGeneres Show, what did you expect?

Ellen took his hand and wordlessly directed him to face the audience. Ed's eyes fell onto a blonde girl with boxy glasses, who squealed with such intensity her cheeks turned purplish.

"Okay, okay," Ellen said, easily reclining into her white plush chair.

Ed quickly sat down.

"Okay," Ellen repeated, and the audience fell silent.

"How old are you, Ed?" Ellen asked.

"Seventeen," Ed said.

"Seventeen, and how long have you worked at that, uh, it's a Mexican restaurant?" Ellen fidgeted in her seat.

"El Gringo's, it's on West Fourth-" Ed blurted out before he realized no one in the studio knew where West Fourth Street actually was. The audience laughed. Ed wasn't sure what he had said that was so funny, "And I've been there since the beginning of April."