Playing With Power

Nachos

I hated when I had to work these shows. Mostly because I loved coming to watch them. I loved wrestling and so did my three year old. He had a plastic toy title from Walmart that he got for Christmas and next to his Yoshi plush that he'd had since birth, it was his favorite toy.

He would parade around in his unders, pretending they were trunks, he would body slam his other toys, and one time I literally caught him jumping off the "top turnbuckle" (it was the back of the couch) trying to do a flip.

My mom got on my case all the time about how watching the violence would lead him to be violent to the other kids when he started preschool, but he was three and still not potty trained, so I wasn't even thinking about that. I was too busy working my butt off between working to make ends meet.

Tonight was no exception. I could hear the pyro and the people screaming and I sighed, adjusting my slouchy hat, sitting on the back counter, swinging my legs and hitting the nearby PokéStop for the millionth time that night.

My best friend was wiping stuff down. Val had no interest in WWE or video games or really anything that I did, but she was sweet and adorable with her pink hair so I had to keep her.

We had met in a therapy group for domestic violence. She was recovering from her own shit when we ended up sitting beside each other. She was just out of prison and needed a place. I needed a room mate, so it just worked out. I loved her to pieces and she loved us. That's all that I needed.

"I want to go look, so bad! This is killing me!" I groaned dramatically, earning me an annoyed, albeit amused look. It was about the 73rd time I had said it in the almost two hours since the show started.

"It's just guys in underwear rolling around," Val said, looking at me, probably wondering why I wasn't helping.

"Hot guys. In hot underwear," I corrected. When you were single with no action to speak of, you needed something to get off to. Wrestlers weren't the worst choice. Plus, I really did love the story lines and the fighting. The fact that most of them were good looking was a bonus, really.

I admired the amount of work they put in and what they could do with their bodies, the men and women alike. Every night they were putting themselves through the danger and physical abuse that came along with their career.

I noticed a decent amount of people trickle out of the arena. It was Tuesday, so SD Live must be over, which meant they were doing a quick reset for 205 Live.

I honestly liked them better than the main roster guys. They were small and more agile, so they could easily do more.

I whined quietly and hopped down, helping her start to clean up. We'd be able to close in half an hour, and I'd have to go get my kid from my mom. He would ask me a million questions about the show, if I got to meet anyone, and I would have to either tell him no or lie.

He loved TJ Perkins. Rolland spent a lot of time on my lap, watching me play video games, so he loved them too, and TJ, to him, combined the best of both of his worlds. I couldn't say I disapproved of his choice. I remember watching him on TNA as Manik and was a fan then. I wanted to get Rolland a shirt before I headed home.

I heard someone clear their throat from the front counter and looked up. Valerie was closer than I was, she was already helping them, and I damn near dropped my phone.

Noam Dar, the Scottish Supernova himself, was leaning on the freshly wiped counter, flirting with my Val. He was just as smarmy in real life as on TV, but it was amazing none-the-less.

Val was practically arguing with Noam about if he was really a wrestler or not. He looked like he was enjoying the chase, like it was his favorite part of the game. The way he looked at her made me uneasy. Character or not, he played his part to the t.