Loring Park Episode #73: Being Accompanied By Terri

Because I am a procrastinating waste of potential, I started writing this blog, which takes place in January and February of 2020, in March. It is now the end of July. That sentence used to say June. The world, and Minneapolis, is a very different place now. I will write soon -- and I mean soon, not the Jakey Emmert "I'll be there in five minutes when I really haven't even got in the shower yet" soon -- about life in quarantine, about the murder of George Floyd on our streets, about life constantly changing as we know it. For now, dear reader, we will go to a different time. And if you want to go way back in time, Loring Park: Vol. 2 is coming soon. By soon I mean before my age has a "4" in front of it.

I renewed my library card on the same day I went to my new gym. The theme is overdoing it. I somehow had joined the Anytime Fitness in the really nice part of town, and for the first 30 days you could only work out at your home gym. Nothing inspires you to work out like knowing that you can reward yourself with a nine-dollar pre-prepared cranberry salad from Kowalski's next door when you're done.

I went to the gym about five times and I only read half of the books I checked out from the library! Every time I go to the gym, I go home crying and feel stupid about myself because I don't know what the hell I am doing. But, Jakey, if that's the case, don't you go home crying every day? Hush up.

I wanted to remember what it was to be a stand-up comedian again, so I did an open mike at Bar Luchador, which is a wrestling-themed restaurant in Dinkytown. My favorite things combined are stand-up, pro wrestling, and college boys. It reminded me of when I was first starting out! Almost every comic was in college, and I was now the older veteran, but I was still really awkward. I brought my WWE Women's Championship with me, for crying out loud. My favorite thing was that it was a Monday, so WWE Raw was actually on in the background (thankfully, not on the TV behind the comedians). Still, it took me back to my days of 2011-2014, when I performed often, and went to the open mikes that feel like marathons, and you don't feel better or worse than anybody but you're just so damn happy to be there. This elation may have also been brought along by the fact that Trevor Anderson let me sit with a Trish Stratus action figure during the show.



My friend Charlie is also a wrestling fan, and we even went to a WWE pay-per-view in December! The show itself was not great, but that was no fault of our friend, a former WWE performer who gave us tickets. More on her in a little bit. First I have to say that we went to The Depot Tavern before, and Charlie almost sent back his three dollar well Tom Collins drink because it didn't taste right. I had paid for it because I had cash so I flatly refused to allow this, and because I am a good friend I used his real name at Bar Luchador in my set and said, "I don't have a joke about this, I just want to shame him." With friends like me, who needs enemies?
_________



I was blessed with a rare Saturday off, which meant Bingo! It was Valentine's Day Weekend and I guess I blessed myself with the day off, because I took the weekend off so Charlie and I could go on our trip to Duluth. Irregardless, as Gretchen Wieners would say, I realized that Charlie and I weren't going out of town until Sunday, so Saturday meant a day of debauchery!



My friend Clive lives an hour away and I hadn't seen him in months, and he agreed to spend the day with me without any blackmail involved. He even picked me up. It's not that I have a crush on Clive, but he is attractive, and there's something to be said about being in a car with a boy when he is driving. It happened when my friend George, who I met through Chuck and Raymond, drove me from Lush to The Saloon one night after he saw me perform at New Hope Cinema Grill. It's an exciting, innocent feeling. Maybe because I always think of myself as a stunted adolescent, or because usually I'm driving myself (or Jared, for a long time).



I overprepared and got a table for five, even though I didn't even know Clive was coming for sure, and Charlie couldn't come until later, and E.J. couldn't come until later, and Steve was sitting with his work friends. It all worked out because my friend Randall, a hilarious comedian, had his own posse and we joined him at the couches.

Jacob Randall, Jacob Frey, and a local drunk

Randall had a few girls at his table, including a veteran named Courtney who was very friendly and gregarious. EJ and Charlie eventually joined. I drank enough but not too much. Steve came over which made me happy because things were complicated.

"We got a new dog," he said.

I am not allowed to go to Steve's house so I pretended I was happy but was sad about it. I will never see the dog. I wish him well.

I can wish the dog well but not Jaxon well.

This speaks volume about my lack of character.

Come back, Jakey. This is a rabbit hole.

Yes! I am forgetting about the important part, which is THAT I WON BINGO. THREE TIMES.

A month later, I would win $200 at Big Louie's Bingo and THEN LOSE MY WALLET THE NEXT DAY. I CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS.

After bingo, Clive, EJ, Charlie and I went to my apartment. Reid came home and cooked for us because he is a Double Taurus Daddy (so is EJ, too, and I don't wish to doubt his culinary prowess).


We played Trouble and kiki'd. Clive was planning on driving back home, and it took a lot of planning
to convince him not to (and I am happy to say he agreed). We then went to The Saloon, but it seemed weird to be out that early. Charlie did not join, because he was picking me up at 9 in the morning for our trip to Duluth.



"Don't drink too much," he warned. "We have a big day tomorrow."


"Obvi," I said.



I LIED.



Clive, Reid and I were there until bar close mingling with everybody! Clive is hot so I figured everyone was going to be all over him and he was gonna go home with someone of his choice, and he would have been allowed to, but he chose to return to my estate after bar close. He laid on top of me on the couch and kissed me on the lips.



"Jakey," he whispered. "I love you." And then he started snoring and I laid there awkwardly for 20 minutes because while I enjoy when men are muscular, it feels a different way when they are on top of you but not moving and you're not really sure what to do with yourself.



He was gone when I woke up.

____



Hell froze over because Charlie only had to wait for five minutes the next morning! Charlie is one of the most idiosyncratic people I have ever met, and I say that with love. Exhibit H: He drives a Gucci Fiat. It is a tiny black car with the Gucci logo on it. I can't make this stuff up.



I was exhausted, but I was okay with it because I planned on sleeping on the way to Duluth.


However, Charlie often drives back and forth to his hometown that is somewhere in a far away land called South Dakota, so the two and a half hour drive to Duluth is a hop and a skip in his mind. He insisted on playing games or having conversation the whole time, and I was on three hours of sleep and was struggling to find energy or a reason to live.



I won't begrudge Charlie for it, though, because he found an app called 21 Questions or something like that. It's similar to a game I bought from Nordstrom called Hygge, and it prompts questions that lead to deep conversations. I realized there are not many people in the world that could engage in something like that, as it requires deep vulnerability, empathy, and curiosity.  Around Hinckley, there was even one question that I wasn't comfortable answering beyond "yes" or "no" and Charlie respected that.



After what felt like being on The Oregon Trail, we landed in Duluth! First we stopped at The Electric Fetus. I used to live just a block and a half away from the Minneapolis location and never knew there was a Duluth one. I splurged and bought two Janet Jackson CD's (if I ever finish the 2019 blog, I will tell you all about that concert!), a Jonny Lang CD, the Batman soundtrack by Prince, and a T-shirt that I can't recall because it is still in the bag in my car.

We started our excursion outside the 7 West Taphouse, where a nice Duluthian informed us that we didn't need to pay for parking. I was so excited to reunite with my Aunt Jana! I hadn't seen her in person since MAY OF 2012, when I performed at Dub Linnh's during the weekend I was initially going to be in a play that never happened. Jana is originally from Georgia and I stayed with her parents when I saw the Atlanta Olympics in 1996. It was wonderful to catch up with her, her husband Ray, and my cousin Daniel, and we promised to not make it eight years before seeing each other again.



Charlie and I scrambled to get ready at the hotel, and I was still SO DAMN TIRED, but we made it to the wrestling show.



You guys, I am a horrible writer. I didn't even tell you why we were going to Duluth.



Five years earlier, Charlie and I road tripped to Milwaukee (an even longer trip!) to see Charlie's favorite childhood wrestler, Terri Runnels, at a wrestling meet-and-greet that was during a halftime session of a Milwaukee Admirals hockey game. Here's the Cliffs Notes version: Charlie made an amazing card for Terri. We took a picture even though we were technically too late for pictures. Charlie left his phone number in the card even though I told Charlie that was creepy. I know nothing, because Terri called him later that night and a genuine friendship was made ever since then. We have kept in touch with Terri through the years, but I was always too poor to go to something like WrestleCon, and when she told us she was going to be doing a show in Minnesota, we were THERE.



We got to the building later than we wanted to (shocker, I know). I was nervous and anxious. There were never two seats close to each other, because everybody seated themselves the way that Minnesotans do in church, where you're the only person in your row but then you strategically leave a coat to cover the seats next to you to signal to others, no, this seat is TAKEN, they're just not here right now. I was frustrated but it was my fault we were late so I didn't want to express that to Charlie, so I just got more nervous and agitated. We ended up standing on the upper level, where Charlie immediately received compliments of his authentic WWF Chyna T-shirt, which he had splurged $50 for on eBay. I felt salty because I had the same shirt when I was a youth, and I ruined it a few summers ago by attempting to turn it into a crop top. I shouldn't complain, because I was wearing a festive Trish Stratus T-shirt that Charlie had given me for my birthday.

My 9th grade school picture.

My anxiety quelled during the first match when Charlie's phone buzzed. "Terri just asked, 'Where are you guys'?" he said. He tapped away furiously and his face lit up. "She's gonna come find us," he said.


"What???" I asked dramatically. It was all hitting me now, that I always would joke with my brother about "my good friend Terri Runnels", that she was a real person, this was really happening, that she was going out of her way to meet two gay guys from Minneapolis -- which was a judgment, because we had been corresponding with her regularly, I mean she was a friend …



...She bopped around the brewhouse and waved at us from the bottom of the stairs, then climbed up with aplomb. In heels. I was worried for her safety. "You guys!" she yelled. "Come sit with me!" She put her hand on my back, and while I always role-played as Chyna or Trish as a kid, it's the only time I felt like a male wrestler. Terri is a legendary manager, and she had her hand on my back as we walked down the stairs (she's about 5'2" and I'm 5'7", whereas Charlie would be the hoss of our team because he is 6'2"), and for a brief moment I felt like Charlie and I were making our way to the ring as a tag team, with Terri as our manager …


The following contest, scheduled for one fall, is for the World Wrestling Federation Tag Team Championship! Introducing the challengers, accompanied by TERRI RUNNELS, at a combined weight of .... math is hard ... THE FABULOUS JAKEY & CHARLIE CHANNING





Terri sat with us while we watched the rest of the show, which included a lot of great Minneapolis talent, including Deveon Monroe, who was like nothing I had ever seen.

His character is flamboyantly gay. 20 years ago, he would be the heel. And I was nervous watching it, because I was anticipating an Adrian Adonis gimmick (or ironically, Goldust). But no, he was the face, with a male bodyguard, who does some moves that have sexuality to them, but it had nothing to do with the story of the match. It was refreshing to see, and I judged my own judgment.

There was an amazing heel named Dak Draper, the Mile High Magnum, who I thought was sexy as all hell! I didn't talk to him at a meet and greet because I was too nervous. Had I known that he has a tortoise shell cat who actually lets him hold her, I would have been more comfortable. This picture melted me. And then I later found out on Instagram that it's a rare boy tortie!

The love of my life.

Penny Ann would never, but I still love her so much and if I start talking about her I will get emotional.



Anyway, during the show, I was still really quiet. It was partly because I was still tired. Also, we were by the camera and I was nervous because I heard that they would pick up our audio. It was loud, and also still kind of surreal. I thought it best to just let Terri and Charlie talk to each other, even though she was trying her best to include me. I especially enjoyed her talk about the advice she was giving the young wrestlers. "You have to know your character inside out," she said. "You should know what your character had for breakfast this morning. When you're at a red light, what is your character thinking about being at a red light?" (Terri's favorite character of hers is Marlena, but I told her my favorite version of her was when she accompanied The Hardys) Charlie felt I was being standoffish, and I felt terrible. I was just trying to take it in, throughout my exhaustion, without ruining the show (I really was worried about the damn audio), or making a fool of myself out of my lust for Dax Draper ...



After the show, Charlie and I went to dinner at the iconic JJ Astor atop the Harborview Radisson. This meal was almost as much as the room and worth it. I felt like I was at Gina's, the fictional restaurant in Genoa City on The Young and the Restless.

It was decadent and delicious and worth every dollar, and we enjoyed the view of the beautiful city. After dinner, Terri told us to meet her in her room at a different hotel, and Charlie packed his Nintendo 64. I was finally able to let loose, and the night turned into a very slumber-party vibe. First we had S'mores outside, and I was properly judged for being very lame about them (I only like a toasted brown marshmallow!) Charlie hooked up the Nintendo 64, and we ordered pizza. These days, WWE does an annual video game in the format of a Madden game (the game is just named after the current year), but in our day, each game was different. I was raised in a PlayStation household, to my detriment when I am playing Mario Party with Joey and Lee, and had we been playing Smackdown 2: Know Your Role, I am confident I would have slayed my competition. Unfortunately for me, we were on Nintendo 64 playing No Mercy, the first wrestling game made for this console. However, it was worth it, because while Terri was not known for her in-ring competition during her illustrious career, it's the only game in which she is a playable character!!!! She was as gobsmacked as we were, but not nearly so much as the pizza delivery boy that came in our room twenty minutes later.


"Do you see that girl on the screen?" she said as her Terri delivered a Boston Crab to my Ivory. "That's me."


The pizza guy did the longest double take I have ever witnessed, left without saying too much, and then texted her a bunch of times later (she never responded).


"I've never done that move in my life," Terri said after she beat me with said Boston Crab. I was terrible!


I was grateful that I was able to finally loosen up, and Terri was even gracious enough to FaceTime with my brother. Unlike at the show, it never felt like we were hanging out with a famous person, but just a friend who was visiting town. I mean, it wasn't our town, but you know what I mean.


We planned to meet up with her in the morning and it was serendipitous. After we helped her pack, Terri went downstairs only to find that Ron Simmons took the shuttle to the airport without her!

Charlie and I offered to give her a ride to the airport without question. I had never seen the Duluth airport, and I was excited in a nerdy way about it. Unfortunately, we were in the Gucci Fiat, which makes my Honda Fit look like a monster truck. We could barely fit her luggage in the back and I squeezed into the backseat. (Terri offered to sit in the back, but we would not have that!)


Duluth has a lot of hills. Not only that, but they have STOPLIGHTS IN THE MIDDLE OF HILLS. And it was February. And the three of us and the luggage wouldn't be enough weight to help the car go up if needed (even though Terri's luggage probably weighed as much as she does). After some slight fearing for our lives, we avoided a few streets and managed to drudge up to the airport to get her on her flight safely! We bid her a fond farewell and enjoyed some sightseeing and dining in Duluth before heading back to the city.

Christmas photo

I lost my Oscar party again. We had a Moonlight moment when I thought Charlie won because I am bad at math, but it ended up being Joey! My grandparents and aunt and uncle came, and so did my high school friend Eva, who won my very first party back in 2004!!!!! She still has the record because I invited a lot of people that year and that was the year that Lord of the Rings: Return of the King won everything.

HQ Trivia ended out of nowhere. They notified fans via a snarky push notification ON VALENTINE'S DAY. It was like when I found out Steve was dating someone else on Facebook. It has since been revived and I have yet to win, in love or trivia. I recommend listening to The Ringer's excellent podcast about it.

My generous friend Angie surprised me with a ticket to see Dashboard Confessional. I went with Joey and a gal pal and felt all my feelings. YOU HAVE STOLEN MY HEARRRRRTTTTTTT.

My store closed on St. Patrick's Day. I worked through the pandemic. I had more money than I ever had in my life. Then I took a temporary cut. I blew all of the money. I should have given it to Loretta.

I am moving to a new apartment on Thursday. It is in a new neighborhood, one that I never thought would be home. It reminds me of when Loring Park began. Hopefully that means I will start writing again. But for how many years have I been saying that? I am so terribly unproductive. The new place is nowhere close to Loring Park. I have no friends in the neighborhood. I will be living alone for the first time since 2014. I am nervous. I also feel like I have not grown in a very long time, and sometimes we have to scare ourselves a little bit so we can do that.

Loring Park Episode #50: The Milwaukee Show

Here we go, children! This week's episode begins on location, because my friend Charlie and I trekked to beautiful Milwaukee!

Charlie and I are kindred spirits for a few reasons. We are both Cancers. We are both deep thinkers. We can both quote Alanis Morrisette at the top of a hat (him more so than I -- I can admittedly only do so for her first three albums). And while he is six years my junior, we both love that era of WWF/WWE that was the "Attitude" era, especially when the women are concerned. My favorite will always be 7-time WWE Women's Champion Trish Stratus, and his will always be Terri "Marlena" Runnels, who had a remarkably long tenure in the business for a woman. While Terri was never a wrestler (although she *did* win the Hardcore Championship once), she worked tirelessly in different roles, as a glamorous silent manager to Goldust, a shrewd businesswoman in "P.M.S.", a horny little she-devil in a rivalry with The Kat, and finally as an interviewer who would occasionally get thrown into the ring to make one of the bad girls look even meaner (see the times Victoria or Molly Holly/Gail Kim beat her up to get the crowd to boo).

"Do you want to go meet Terri in Wisconsin?" Charlie asked me months ago.
"Sure!" I said. I thought nothing of it. I went to school in Menomonie, WI (about 70 miles east of Minneapolis), so Wisconsin wasn't a far away land to me. I didn't ask any follow-up questions. I assumed we would have a lovely day trip in Eau Claire.

"I'm so excited to see Terri!" Charlie said months later. "Did you take the whole weekend off work? It's in Milwaukee."

My trepidation was quelled when I found out Sean would be there that weekend, too! His family is from there and he was going to be in the city at the same time as us. Charlie and I booked a two-night stay at the Hilton. I felt bad for missing Jared's birthday party and suggested that my mother go on his behalf.

"I'll go if he's not so drunk he can't keep his eyes open," she said. "Maybe next year when he outgrows that kind of thing."

Charlie is from South Dakota and is used to driving for hours at a time with no interruptions, but when I wasn't complaining about wanting to sleep, I was complaining about wanting to pee! We stopped in Menomonie, Wisconsin, so I could relive my college days. We stopped at The Acoustic Cafe, where I was impressed by their gender-neutral bathrooms and horrified by coverage of Scott Walker. Scott Walker is the dirt worst. He is so bad that Republicans from Minnesota are writing letters encouraging businesses to open up shops in Minnesota. True story.

In the car, I asked Charlie for chap stick. "I don't share that kind of stuff," he said. "You need to trim your nose hairs, too."
"Oh, no, I didn't bring my nose hair trimmer!" I cried. "Can I use yours?"
"Ew!" Charlie scoffed. "No."
I understand not wanting to share a nose hair trimmer (and I thought I looked like Cousin Itt until I looked in the mirror and realized that it wasn't that bad), but the chap stick thing threw me for a loop. Charlie would later apologize and I told him it wasn't necessary -- I just found it an interesting quirk. I think of myself as someone who shares everything, but I suppose I am in between the extremes of Charlie and my friend Jacey, who will walk up to you if you are eating ice cream and ask for some and when you tell her you don't have a spoon, she'll say "I don't care" and use yours without even asking. I love her, by the way.

We had a few stops before the hotel room. We had to pee so we found a Burger King and both ordered a small fries. We were the only ones there and it took five minutes. I was going to ask for ketchup but one of the girls behind the counter was crying and I decided my ketchup could wait. Then we went to a store that was part liquor store, part grocery store, and part convenience shop where you could pay your light bill and things like that. We were going to stop at a vintage store Charlie had seen on Yelp but it was all boarded up.

"This is ghetto," said Charlie, who is from rural South Dakota.
"Stop saying ghetto," I said.
"Why?"
"It just ... doesn't seem right," I said. Yes, Milwaukee is 85% African-American and most of its income is in the greater suburbs, and therefore the public schools are not very good, and there are some neighborhoods the police don't even patrol anymore, and this was the first time I had been panhandled walking outside of a Walgreens. Still, I do not feel comfortable using the term "ghetto" when describing an impoverished, mostly black neighborhood. It feels icky.

We finally arrived in downtown Milwaukee. Any fatigue I had left when we were greeted by handsome men in full formal military apparel. Our hotel was having a military ball!!! God is real. My favorite things are ladies in pretty dresses, Marines, and a good love ballad.

Sean was visiting with his parents and joined up with us about 10:00, while Charlie and I enjoyed the WWE Network (and being ripped off by the hotel which tried charging both of us for Internet access. Ugggghhhhh).

Charlie started drinking earlier, but I wanted to wait. If I'm going to be out at 2 AM, I don't want to be half in the bag at 11, y'know? We watched more wrestling and listened to sad Alanis and Mariah song, and Sean was our chaperone for the course of the evening.

First we went to a club called .... Liquid? ... They blur together. We saw some drag queens. It was nice. Then we went to La Cage, which had cash only cover. I was bitching about this because just before our trip Wells Fargo had completely decimated my checking account. It was between these two venues that Charlie was getting belligerent.

I played darts with Sean and two of his friends. A shot boy walked around with a tray.

Sigh.

I am the last person to make comments about somebody's body. When I take my shirt off, I look like an albino 16-year-old girl who is growing slight chest hair because her body is eating itself due to anorexia.

That said, I am not a shot boy. In Minneapolis our shot boys are people like my friend Tan Man who works at two different gyms and is 9% body fat, or my friend Robin who is a classically trained dancer and is 9% body fat. In Milwaukee, the shot boy had man boobs, stretch marks, and was wearing grey Hanes. If you would have asked him who Andrew Christian was, he would have probably thought you were drunk and talking about two of your friends.

Charlie somehow finagled a free shot. And then he continued being rude. He wasn't throwing drinks or anything, but he kept talking about how bored he was, and was generally acting like a 15-year-old girl that you bring to your grandma's house on the lake for a weekend. Also, at one point he made fun of someone's hair and apparently that person has had five rounds of chemo. Whoopsie.

In a surprising showing of maturity, Charlie agreed to go back to the hotel. I paid for his Uber and it was less than $5. And then I was able to see what Milwaukee is like on the town!! By which I totally made out with that shot boy. You can't shame the shameless.

Sean and I ended our night at This is It, which was really quaint and reminded me of the 19. And I met Season 7 RuPaul's Drag Race contestant Trixie Mattel!

No, she was actually there. I didn't just talk to a poster. She was out of drag and was super nice and friendly, and I'm sure I mortified her by trying to present myself as a peer ("I'm a performer, tooooo ....)". I'll be rooting her for this season (And Max, of course, because local girls gotta stick together).

Sean and I went to Toppers Pizza and I ate the whole damn thing. I think I gained a good ten pounds in Milwaukee.

                                            ***

The next day, Charlie felt terrible, both in terms of hangover and shame.

"Was I really that mean?!" he kept asking.
"Text Sean about it," I said. It was between the two of them. As embarrassed as I was about Charlie's behavior, he hadn't said anything mean to me, and I'm much more willing to forgive bad behavior if someone is trite about it immediately.
"That's why I don't drink that much," he said.

I do find this fascinating. I drink, um, a bit -- okay, a lot -- and I don't get mean. The worst thing I ever did was slap that kid's ass when he wore the Adrian Peterson family because I thought it would be funny! (Turns out his last name was Peterson and his boyfriend did NOT find this amusing). And there was the time a boy who was a thousand times better looking than me was going to sleep with someone I was in love with and I said "I know the score". Okay. Nobody is perfect, certainly not me. However, I don't get mean! I don't understand the concept of being a mean drunk. You drink to dull your pain, not maximize it. If you're a mean drunk, stay home or drink club soda.

On a lighter note, this is the AMAZING card that Charlie made for Terri.* How creative is he?? We went to Walgreens to buy 99 cent Wet 'n' Wild lipstick, and clearly Charlie is a better kisser than me. Then, on the inside, IT PLAYED TERRI'S THEME MUSIC.

*I suppose I can write here now a note about code names. By using real pictures and even evidence of real names, you might wonder why I am still bothering with the use of code names, at least for this particular "character". I can only suggest that, for this particular person, it is a matter of striving for consistency. There are few people who have never had code names, and they will stay that way. 

In the card, he wrote her a beautiful and heartfelt letter about how he was a gay kid from South Dakota and he found strength by doing the "Terri pose" against his fence (when Terri would enter the ring, she would lean against the ropes and do a kiss-face to the crowd, with her back leg raised up in coquettish fashion -- I would do the same thing climbing my bunk at summer camp). He wrote that he was here with his friend Jakey, who was also gay, also a Cancer, and also a fan of all things Divas.

He then wrote that he would love to take her out to dinner and gave her his phone number.

"Is that too much?" he asked.
"Well ... I wouldn't," I honestly said. Truth. I could be in an elevator with Channing Tatum and act like I didn't know him. "But it's also a now or never thing. When will you have this opportunity again? You are braver than me."

Of course, getting to the arena took forever because I left my debit card in the room, the ATM at the hotel wasn't working (but we did get to walk past the Broadcasters Hall of Fame plaques, and there was a guy whose name was legitimately Dick Record. I loved it!), and it was snowing! We arrived and the line to meet the wrestlers was a good 200+ people long.

The other wrestlers were Matt Hardy, King Kong Bundy, and Kevin Nash, the latter of which I was going to have sign my copy of "Magic Mike" and I forgot it. And I have two of them!! While in line we stood next to a young woman and her niece, and she went on and on about who she met and invited us to indie shows she was working on. While I don't follow wrestling nearly as much as I used to, it reminded me of conventions I would go to in Las Vegas with people on the forums of wrestling observer.com -- and as dorky as it sounds to someone not familiar with it, there is this instant connection of kindred spirit and brotherhood that happens with a fellow wrestling fan. Charlie and I driving six hours to meet a particular woman was ample evidence of this.

To meet the wrestlers you had to buy tickets to the hockey game, so we were at the Bradley Center, where the Milwaukee Admirals were hosting the Rochester Americans. The first period ended while we were in line. While I have never seen a hockey game, I was kind of bummed. Those tickets weren't cheap, and when would I ever see a hockey game again?"

"How long is a period?" I asked Charlie.
"Like ... a woman's?" he asked.
"No!" I cried. "In hockey!"
"Oh, I don't know," he said. "Probably shorter than a woman's, though."
"Well, no shit, Charlie," I said.

A burly man came up to us as we neared the pillar. The signing went from 2-4, and it was about 3:40.

"FOLKS!" he cried. "At this time there are NO PICTURES!! JUST AUTOGRAPHS!"

My heart sank in my chest. I had begun to think this trip had all been a bust. What if I had had cash on me to begin with? What if I hadn't forgotten my debit card? What if Charlie had come back from lunch with his professor friend earlier? Would we just get her autograph, smile, and walk away?

Matt Hardy was up first. He can still get it, girls. King Kong Bundy didn't say anything but smiled. Then. Oh crap. Here we go. Terri Runnels.

"Hi, Terri," I said in lightning fast fashion and handed her the card. "I made this for you." I totally lied! Charlie made it!

"Open it," I cried. "It plays your theme music!"

She was elated. "Oh my god," she cried. "Oh, just get one picture."

WE TOOK THREE BECAUSE CHARLIE IS MUCH MORE CONFRONTATIONAL THAN I AM AND ON THIS OCCASION IT WAS FOR GOOD. THE GUY YELLED AT US THE ENTIRE TIME.

Amidst the yelling, Kevin Nash graciously signed an 8 x 10 for my mother (who loves him!), and Charlie and I hi-fived like Terri and Jacqueline of Pretty Mean Sisters.

Then we were finally ready for the hockey game! Charlie was too much on a high from the Terri moment to focus, but I wanted to relish the moment. I decided that I LOVE HOCKEY. I think I was spoiled because the game itself was really good and went into overtime. But I also loved the aggression of it. 85% of my love for hockey was heterosexual, but there was a 15% equivalent of me hoping that at one point the dudes would take their masks off and start kissing.

Nevertheless, my newfound passion of hockey only led to positive things, BECAUSE THE ADMIRALS WON IN OVERTIME!!!

They actually won 6-5, but that's the picture that came up. Okay, then.

Charlie and I prepared for a quiet night in, watching the Grammys. My favorite performance was Rihanna w/Jay-Z and Paul McCartney. I loved Sam Smith's speech about thanking the man who broke his heart. It was just like when I wrote a show in the Fringe Festival only not at all. Also, I have realized my celebrity doppelgänger is Beck and I am not sure how I feel about that.

We invited Sean out for Round Two, but he decided to stay in (a decision for which I couldn't entirely blame him). As the Grammys came to a close, Charlie's phone went off from a Florida area code.

"Who is ... oh, crap," he said. "I think it's Terri!"
"Answer it!!" I cried.

Charlie did his best impression of a teenage girl who is finally getting asked out by the star quarterback for spring formal.

"Hello?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
"Hi, can I ask who I'm speaking with?" the demure voice on the other end said.
"This is Charlie," he said.
"Oh, good," the woman said. "This is Terri. I just wanted to call and let you guys know that I fell in love with you two from the minute I saw you, and that card was so creative and warmed my heart. I just got back from dinner with Kevin Nash."

We invited her out to the gay bar but she said she was too tired. Maybe next time.

Oh, but this was the best part.

"If you guys ever need anything, let me know," said Terri Runnels. She, who kicked Marc Mero in the nuts and formed the first ever female stable in the World Wrestling Federation. She, who was sprayed by a milk truck by Kurt Angle. She, who had The Fabulous Moolah in her corner at WrestleMania 2000. She, who in the very building we had met her, was tarred and feathered by Stacy Keibler after a lingerie pillow fight and legitimately almost died because one of the feathers got stuck in her throat from the syrup. Okay, they're not all glamorous.

I decided to let Charlie keep her number under lock and key. I don't need to be texting Terri Runnels at 2 in the morning next time I'm sad about a dude.
But I love him, Terri, I will write. Even if he comes and goes like inclement weather.
You need to find a man who will be like Florida, she will write. Always warm and comfortable ;)

A boy can dream.

Oh, also, this:

                     ***

I was so saddened to find out that we had lost Linda Reed to esophageal cancer. I have worked at the Mall of America for six and a half years, and Linda, who was a cashier at Holiday on the first floor, was always a highlight of my day, especially on those in which I was sleep-deprived or hung over or crabby or broken-hearted or all of the above. She genuinely *loved* that job and the people she interacted with every day, and there was not a mall employee who wasn't affected by her genuine joy for her customers and occupation. They had this posted on the counter for about a week. I was most moved by the discovery that she had a family. I had no reason to think she *didn't* have one, but to all of us she was Linda. I had no idea she was a "wife of", a " mother of", a "sister to", or that her father was a reverend. I will think of her every day.