And now for something completely different
(So RK has been in Greensboro for three days now, seeing the sights, talking to Dan Ryan and the other front office guys over promotion for Wrestleverse in general and his match with Michael Bastard in particular: it's a tightrope walk, apparently, making himself available without trying to take anything over since it's not his place - at least not yet - and getting ready to wrestle in front of millions of people on pay per view.
Lennon Muphy's song would've been apropos - 'Where do I fit in, where's my place here?'
But that's part of the story. And to relieve some of my boredom, I took a train home and picked up some shifts at the bar.
You'd be surprised, working twelve hours at a clip on your feet is a lot less annoying when you don't have to.)
"So let me get this straight," said Valerie, as she leaned against the bar, "You're in Greensboro, in a really nice hotel that's all paid for, and you decided to come back... here."
She gestured to the bar and everything it encompassed: the bar - length mirror, the swinging door to the kitchen where we magick up no less than four different types of bar munchies, the tables and chairs, the meager stage where a band hasn't played in about a month, and the three regular doors: one out the front, one out the back, and one to the loft that I'd most likely be sleeping in for the next two days.
What, I said, and leave all this?
We both laughed.
"Seriously," said Val, "are you still gonna work here after everything blows up for Knox this year?"
Why wouldn't I, I said.
"Hey, two shots of Jack," said a newcomer, a man in his late 20s or so, sitting with another man who looks a few years older.
"Because," said Val, "Knox is about to win two championships and a heavy tournament, which means he's going to be a bonafide celebrity, which means you're gonna be a celebrity. And this isn't like when Juliya was off TV and she was just paying the bills at Cups until Fuse figured out that they were better off with her - this has been your career since you were seventeen and I know you're gonna try to burn the candle at both ends instead of doing what's best for you."
Now, keep in mind that Valerie is a short woman with blonde hair, two lip rings, and lots of tattoos. Not exactly the demographic I thought would watch wrestling. Heck, I only watched the shows RK wrestled on, and now that I'm there with him I don't even do that anymore.
"My boyfriend is a big fan," said Val, apparently reading my mind, "and of course since he's a wrestling fan in general I always made sure we caught you guys, so I learned a few things."
Well, I said, as I made myself a poor - woman's - lemonade, it's been fun so far when I've gotten to get involved, and making those videos was ridiculous, but who really knows how long it's gonna last, right? RK cracked a bone in his neck a few years ago and the doctor said he was really lucky that there was no lasting damage.
I reached down to my knee and adjusted my boot.
I really do have the most ridiculous shoes ever. Half my closet is flip flops, the other half is boots of varying lengths, heels, and zippers-buckles-laces. RK once said that as much of a city girl I am, I'm also a dirty hippie at heart.
"Please," said Val, "You haven't worked an event in weeks, you don't hear all the guys - and girls - that come in looking for you because they saw you on TV and fell in lust."
So everybody wants a piece, I said, so what happens when the TV shows are over? I'm having the time of my life, Val, but I'm also a realist and I'm doing this to support RK. If he stops doing this, I stop doing this. Last thing I want is to be one of those sad sacks on the other side of the bar, waiting around for someone to recognize me.
"Cally, do you really think Knox is ever gonna stop?"
That's not the point, I said, gesturing to the space around us. I stay on this side of the bar and I keep myself in reality. Wrestleverse, down in North Carolina - that's the fantasy world. That's the dream.
"McGinnis still lives it," pointed out Val. She had a point, but it was somewhat off - center.
Miss Ivy lived and breathed professional wrestling for like thirty years, I said. Other than Sean and Shannon, and the guys in Valerian's Garden, that's where her focus is. I'm a high school graduate who tends bar.
Long, cold drink of poor - woman's - lemonade.
The minute I forget that, I said, it's all over.
Two more days and I'd be back in Greensboro for another vacation from my life. But that's all it is.
Just a vacation.