Post by vhodka on Oct 7, 2022 22:25:20 GMT -5
The Lvl Up Power Championship laid heavy across my shoulder, still smelling faintly of the high end cologne it’s former owner Larry Tact wore. Pro-tip for the rookies, promoters like people who plug the product and bring in those free advertising dollars. People think I’m stupid & truthfully, yeah kinda. Not like eating tide pods stupid but like regular foil in the microwave stupid. But I was still smart enough to know that this competition could drive new eyes to the Lvl Up product. Never forget your meat and potatoes.
I was acutely aware of the camera man pouting on my right while the interviewer shifted uncomfortably in front of me, soulless black eyes staring back into my own. Talking directly into a camera has always wigged me out, so I adapted and took matters into my own hands to ensure that nothing would mess this opportunity up for me. Growing up in Bent Fork something like participating in the World Series of Wrestling would have been unfathomable. But, here I was.
“When you grow up in a trailer park, there aren’t a lot of options for women. If it’s not your husband kicking you in the face then life has a way of taking over the job. As you might imagine, I never really fit into that mold.”
The interviewer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, casting a covert glance to the stuffy nosed camera man beside us as if he was trying to send some sort of telepathic message. It made me wonder if my serious tone had caught them off guard.
“I didn’t fit in with much of anything, if I’m honest. The world often felt like a sweater that didn’t quite fit me right and the material was too scratchy and would make me sweat in weird places. When I was young... I didn’t know how to deal with that feeling or what I needed to do to get the sweater to fit. Instead, I pretended that it wasn’t too tight around my neck, that the material didn’t break my back out in hives. I walked through life and mimicked the people I saw around me, people who were comfortable in the sweater, people who it fit better than it fit me.
One day fate stepped in and introduced me to a group of people who were just as poorly suited for their own sweaters as I was and all of a sudden I stopped noticing the way material hung or that wool is the work of the devil. These wrestlers I had met, well, they were just like me. Fucked up, complicated, weird. I joined their company and met more people like me, more people who life didn’t fit quite right. And you know what? For the first time in my life I fit in perfectly. I wasn’t lonely anymore. And then it dawned on me: I could finally feel what it felt like to kick life back.”
I paused, leaning forward towards the interviewer, Charles Cheese, ignoring the child in the birthday crown beside us who was shakily holding the camera as I had instructed upon arrival.
“You see, you do what you do because you must. Because it’s who you are. Because “Entertainment” is your middle name.”
My hand raised to gesture to the brightly colored restaurant around us as Charles awkwardly tried to scoot away, only to be stopped by the heavily tattooed hand of my husband Vincent which now rested on his furry shoulder.
“My middle name is Jolene as luck would have it. But what most people don’t realize is that Jolene is French for wrestling.”
“It’s not.” Vincent mumbled from behind Charles E. Cheese who sat motionless before me clearly hanging on every word.
“I do this not because I’m good at it or because legally I’m no longer allowed to operate heavy machinery until the investigation is over. I do this because this business is who I am. It’s who we all are. Anywhere else we’re just weirdos in poorly fitting turtlenecks, but here in this business we’re more than that.”
Vin nodded his head towards a group of what appeared to be employees and parents headed our direction as I stood, looking down at Charles one last time.
“We’re a family.”
I was acutely aware of the camera man pouting on my right while the interviewer shifted uncomfortably in front of me, soulless black eyes staring back into my own. Talking directly into a camera has always wigged me out, so I adapted and took matters into my own hands to ensure that nothing would mess this opportunity up for me. Growing up in Bent Fork something like participating in the World Series of Wrestling would have been unfathomable. But, here I was.
“When you grow up in a trailer park, there aren’t a lot of options for women. If it’s not your husband kicking you in the face then life has a way of taking over the job. As you might imagine, I never really fit into that mold.”
The interviewer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, casting a covert glance to the stuffy nosed camera man beside us as if he was trying to send some sort of telepathic message. It made me wonder if my serious tone had caught them off guard.
“I didn’t fit in with much of anything, if I’m honest. The world often felt like a sweater that didn’t quite fit me right and the material was too scratchy and would make me sweat in weird places. When I was young... I didn’t know how to deal with that feeling or what I needed to do to get the sweater to fit. Instead, I pretended that it wasn’t too tight around my neck, that the material didn’t break my back out in hives. I walked through life and mimicked the people I saw around me, people who were comfortable in the sweater, people who it fit better than it fit me.
One day fate stepped in and introduced me to a group of people who were just as poorly suited for their own sweaters as I was and all of a sudden I stopped noticing the way material hung or that wool is the work of the devil. These wrestlers I had met, well, they were just like me. Fucked up, complicated, weird. I joined their company and met more people like me, more people who life didn’t fit quite right. And you know what? For the first time in my life I fit in perfectly. I wasn’t lonely anymore. And then it dawned on me: I could finally feel what it felt like to kick life back.”
I paused, leaning forward towards the interviewer, Charles Cheese, ignoring the child in the birthday crown beside us who was shakily holding the camera as I had instructed upon arrival.
“You see, you do what you do because you must. Because it’s who you are. Because “Entertainment” is your middle name.”
My hand raised to gesture to the brightly colored restaurant around us as Charles awkwardly tried to scoot away, only to be stopped by the heavily tattooed hand of my husband Vincent which now rested on his furry shoulder.
“My middle name is Jolene as luck would have it. But what most people don’t realize is that Jolene is French for wrestling.”
“It’s not.” Vincent mumbled from behind Charles E. Cheese who sat motionless before me clearly hanging on every word.
“I do this not because I’m good at it or because legally I’m no longer allowed to operate heavy machinery until the investigation is over. I do this because this business is who I am. It’s who we all are. Anywhere else we’re just weirdos in poorly fitting turtlenecks, but here in this business we’re more than that.”
Vin nodded his head towards a group of what appeared to be employees and parents headed our direction as I stood, looking down at Charles one last time.
“We’re a family.”