When I die, I hope it's on a Sunday in early November. I hope I die sitting in the corner seat of our sectional with my family after a Patriots win, stuffed from buffalo chicken dip and a sandwich from the deli five minutes from my house. I hope it's 60 degrees and partly cloudy...
If I could design my last week on earth shit would get weird—and it did.
On Monday I will fly to Los Angeles. I’ve never been, but I feel I have unfinished business there and I will be making a few stops. First I will track down Nick Colletti and hit him with a swift suh dude. Together we will strap on some rollerblades and take the town by storm. Mid-endeavor we will find Charli D’amelio—I will challenge her to a renegade and most likely win (I mean have you seen my renegade?). Nick Colletti will have just watched me renegade so naturally he will want to marry me. He will propose that night; not with a ring, but with the newer, noise-cancelling airpods. I can’t say no. We fly to Vegas in the morning.
Wow. Waking up in Vegas will be electric. When I pull up to the chapel all my friends from home will surprise me (thanks guys) and they will be accompanied by Taio Cruz—he recently saw a video of me renegading (it’s gone viral) so he wanted to come. I will walk down the aisle to Chris Berman’s “NFL Primetime Fastest Three Minutes” song, looking like a snack! When the preacher asks someone to speak now, Taio Cruz will most likely stand up. He will be escorted out of the chapel and no one will hear from him ever again. The after party will take place at Caesars Palace, as in THE Caesars Palace. Maybe Danny Devito will show up and pin drop, maybe Shakira shows up and her hips lie, the possibilities are endless.
I’ll take a direct flight back to Durham around 3 a.m. Wednesday morning. When I touch down, I’ll flag down a moped to CampCo to grab a Freddy Special before I go to bed. The next morning I’ll sleep in and when I wake up, my roommates will offer to drive to go get coffee. I’ll join. We’ll get coffee and joyride around New Hampshire to see the foliage. Naturally we will be listening to the Friday Beers tasty licks playlist (gas). When we get back to our place there will be a darty going on—OK fine, I’ll participate. Glizzys will be simmering on the grill; the grill is being operated by Guy Fieri. I’m not even phased. For dinner I’ll get a burger from Hop + Grind. I will have had a hot dog and a burger today, meaning two things: I am not vegan and my arteries are probably clogging. But it won’t matter because I’m on my way out of this world anyways. Love a good darty because it means tonight I can get to sleep at a good hour. My roommates will tuck me in and sing “Cha Cha Slide” (acoustic version) until I am well into a REM cycle.
Oh boy, big day for ya girl. Today I will be flying with my best friends to Cape Town, South Africa, one of my favorite places in the world. It will be my first time flying first class; I’m kinda hype. The movie line-up is as follows: Pineapple Express, The Hangover, The Dark Knight, Inception. After the in-air marathon, I will be quading sand dunes, skydiving, going to Kirstenbosch Outdoor Gardens for a concert, doing the Chapman’s Peak drive at sunset, and going to Camps Bay beach.
I am flying back to the states with my friends and sending it to Nashville, another place I have never actually been. In fact, I think we are going to a karaoke bar. I’ll duet “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” with Mason Ramsey (good guy, local guy) and tell everyone it’s not a big deal when they compliment my pipes. After a few drinks I’ll realize Justin Bieber just so happens to be walking into the bar. He will get on stage and strum a couple chords. We make eye contact. He calls me up on stage to sing “One Less Lonely Girl” to me—making up for the time I got robbed in 2012 at the Bieber My World concert when Scooter Braun didn’t choose me from the crowd to get serenaded by pre-pubescent Bieber. I will tell Bieber I forgive him for that instance (but will hold a small grudge—I simply can’t let it go).
The next morning I will shoot over to Tampa Bay for an hour or two and toss the rock with Tom Brady. I will eventually convince him, via my wit and charm, to come back to the Pats. We will fly back to Boston together; his Uber will take him to Gillette Stadium and mine will take me back to my house where I will spend my last days with my family. Today is your run-of-the-mill Saturday: go with my dad to pick up dry cleaning, fight my brother, tell my jokes to my sister, and ask my mom what we are having for dinner a few hundred times. Today might be the best day.
Well, Sunday is the day I will sit in the corner seat of the sectional. It’s been a wild week and it’s time for me to pass away. Godspeed everyone.