"What is with his hair?" Walsh asked. I was watching a replay of last night's wrestling online. My cousin had stopped by to get this old roasting tray I haven't used in years. It was something I had bought myself when I first moved here, before I ever became a vegetarian.
I shrugged. "Maybe he's doing his impression of The Other Guy. Those two standing there like that always kind of remind me of The Celebrity and The Other Guy. Sort of look like them." I spilled coffee on myself as I was talking. I don't think I own anything that doesn't have at lest one coffee stain.
Walsh laughed nodding. "They do don't they. Like clones or something. Trying to be them." he laughed again. I saw him reach into his coat pocket for his cigarettes.
Me-:"You going to have a smoke before you go back home?"
Walsh-:"I really need to stop. I've tried quitting twice, never works. Not allowed to smoke in the house anymore. Come outside with me for a minute."
I went outside. Honestly, I was hoping for some gossip, something about the family, anything. No such luck.
Walsh-:"I caught up with your blogging. The stuff about the Pack. What if you're right just now?"
Me-:"I'm always right, I'm a girl even when I'm wrong I'm right."
Walsh-:"Sure you are." he laughed in between coughing on his cigarette. "You just said that the Pack members with the hair and the one with the... anyways, what if they are trying to be like your tag team. Trying to see if you will notice and start writing about them the way you used to for The Celebrity and The Other Guy. Cause I don't care what anyone else says, you have more ..." he waved his hand in circles for a few seconds like he was trying to think. "...influence then you think."
Me-:"Are you high, like right now?"
Walsh-:"Nope, wish I was but haven't had a thing in ages." he took a long drag on the filter and tossed it, lighting another. Then stood there for a few very long seconds just enjoying it. The birds were making noise few feet from us, digging for worms from the rain we'd had earlier. "Just hear me for a second, after all the years of you know, all your stuff, you've got me thinking. You spent how much time invested in your tag team and they read you."
Me-:"The height of my career...or whatever it was."
Walsh-:"Yeah yeah anyways, have you ever thought that the Pack are looking for the same kind of ... press agent."
Me-:"No not really. Okay yeah that would be cool to be noticed by them, but...don't put thoughts in my head okay. I spent so much energy already doing all this fan stuff that it made me sick. Literally, I spent like 45 hours a week at one point trying to do the wrestling stuff that I ended up with panic attacks and headaches and stomachaches from trying to stay on top of the episodes, to have on time for the few fans who read my stuff. To keep the few wrestlers who read me interested. I don't think I can do that again."
Walsh-:"Were you happy? When was the last time you were happy?"
I had to admit, it's been years. In the beginning of doing the wrestling stuff, I was beyond happy. Then it became more like a job and less fun, and stressed me out. But isn't that how you find out what's not for you in life? Hobbies that turn your stomach sour after awhile usually means that it's not something to try to base a career on.
Me-:"Why all of a sudden do you want me connected to the wrestling industry? This is like three times now you've sort of pushed me on this. What's going on for real now."
My cousin blushed and wouldn't look me in the eye as he tossed the second cigarette to the ground and stomped it out. Smoke drifted from the toe of his running shoe.
Walsh-:"Maybe I wish I had the balls to be you."
Me-:"Sitting behind a computer screen all day long, insulting international wrestling superstars hair and making comments about the colour of their tights. I don't have a life remember?"
Walsh-:"Maybe?" he shrugged, twice. "I can't do what you do. I'd be too scared. Too embarrassed to pick someone and just talk like you do about them. You have their attention I say go for it. May the force be with you."
Me-:"You did not just Star Wars me."
He waved the roasting tray at me as he got into his truck rolling down the windows. "How about this one, if you build it they will come. " I went back inside, only to be caught in the lobby by this crazy old guy who seems to be staying for the weekend with the guy across the hall, he was sorting through the recycling and started talking to me about someone else who had just moved in next door to him.
I felt trapped. Wasn't listening to him. The old guy said something else about how his nephew was freshly broken up and wanted to know what I thought of the city? I smiled and said that it depends on what side of the city you live on, then said good bye and closed my apartment door.
As I write this now, I can hear PartyGirl down stairs with someone, the sound of a headboard slamming against a wall, the sound of a shoot 'em up movie coming from the apartment across the hall, and the wind having picked up outside hitting the windows. It's raining again now.
And all I can think is, there is no point in asking for the roasting tray back I think I've used it once. That and I wonder if the Pack member with the bad hair ever realizes how messed up his hair usually is?
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