Post by darkdisciple on Jun 7, 2012 0:55:30 GMT -5
My hotel room is comfortable enough, it's not a top quality resort or anything like that, but it does give me a place to sleep in New York City, and that's hard enough to find as it is. The bed is comfortable enough for me to have been laying awake for ten minutes without wanting to get out of bed, or even fully realizing I'm awake. I glance over at the clock reading 7:30 AM and start to think about what I had to do today.
Stytch was off doing some random 'secret training' at his place. I didn't press, I figured it more than likely involved his wife, at least I hoped it was his wife. We disagreed on a lot of personal beliefs, but we sure did click in the ring. That probably made us a better team. Less goofing around, more serious worky-worky stuff.
Speaking of worky-worky stuff...
I sigh as I remember my meeting later on with William Turner. We had tried to meet twice already, but he had been forced to cancel both times. This time, he didn't really have a choice. My contract had technically expired right after the ending of last Bright Lights, but it didn't really matter until the next one. I knew William Turner was hard pressed to resign me, I was a champion and a fan favorite after all, but I wasn't going to press my luck. I know I'm still young, I have much less experience than I should. And when you really think about it, half of the Tag titles with a big veteran like Stytch is hardly proof of staying power.
I jump out of the bed immediately drop to my hands on the floor. I rattle off 20 quick push-ups before I go into my morning stretches. After about 10 minutes of stretching, I put on my jogging shorts and a T-shirt and head out the door.
My morning jog starts as soon as I leave my room. Down the hall I say hi to the receptionist, who recently has been kind enough to toss me a bottle of water as I go past. I appreciate the gesture, and remind myself to thank her somehow. I go out the door and grab the steel bar of a luggage rack. I do 10 pull-ups with each hand and jump down to continue my jog. I timed it right today and cross the street just as the light turns green, without even having to pause as I head into the bustle of uptown New York City. Lots of people walk to work here, but I've been here long enough to know the path with the least traffic. "Yo Kried, keep it up man!" I hear from across the street, I look and wave at the Brooklyn-Italliano man who had called out to me while taking a smoke break outside of the Italian restaurant I frequented. "Thanks Ricky, say hi to Mama for me." I replied. He laughed and responded "Will do buddy, will do."
I continued through the streets of restaurants and giftshops as I head deeper downtown I turn just before I reach the residential areas, before I run into a mass of people heading to their typical jobs. I don't have a typical job, I'm a professional wrestler.
I say it to myself again, I'm a professional wrestler. It still doesn't seem real sometimes. Like I might any day open my eyes and find myself at home, both my sisters sleeping in the bed next to me in a tiny apartment house. Maybe if I was lucky, my parents would still be alive. But that isn't what happens. I open my eyes and find myself in the middle of a NYCCW ring. I'm thousands of miles apart from my sisters, and I'm doing what I love in front of thousands of people who love seeing me do it.
I jog past the only Beer Garten I've been able to find in all of New York, Heidelberg. One of the older ladys who works there, Heidi, always takes out the trash just as I walk by. She doesn't care a bit for wrestling, but has made it a habit of jokingly waving her hand sideways and saying "Wer wird fühlen Ihrer schrecklichen Zorn diesmal Kind?"I always smile and say "Niemand, der verdient es nicht Großmutter." I always appreciate her being there, it lets me feel like home isn't so far away. I think she enjoys seeing me there too, it's almost frightening to think how far away we really are from where we came. It's funny how I've never met her, but because we called the same massive piece of land our home, it feels like we have a special connection that is almost like that of family. Maybe I'm speaking for myself, maybe she just feels sorry for a poor German boy who spends his days cracking skulls.
I start to get into more suburban territory as I continue with the third mile of my jog. It's summer, so the kids of the area have flooded the play park by the time I get there. I don't know any of them very well, but they all seem to think it great fun to line up just as I get there and stick out there hands for a quick hand tap from me. Then they all cheer as I wave back to them as I head on. They remind me of Tija somehow, and that gives me a boost of energy just as the days heat starts to pick up. I take a sip from the water bottle and shove it back into my shorts pocket as I come up on this fabulous thing the have in the park called a fitness run. Apparently they have a two mile loop with various wooden fitness stations set up. I keep telling myself to run the whole thing one of these days, but I simply jump on the one station I happen to run past, (leg dips if you're wondering) Do a quick 50 of them, and keep on my usual run. I turn back into the city and reach my hotel again just as I cross the 5 mile mark. I walk in the door and catch the towel the very prepared receptionist tosses me.
I head back to my room for a well deserved (and much-needed) shower. Afterwords, I grab the shoe-shine cloth from the bathroom, switch on the Food Network, and polish the Tag Team title while eating a banana. It's not like I'm some idiotic, narcissistic prick who wastes all my free time, I just really like banana's, and I haven't eaten yet. Oh, polishing my belt! Well, see it's just that I'm taking the title with me to NYCCW headquarters today, I figure I might as well get the new nameplate attached while I'm there. I can't very well have the company think I'm not taking care of the title, so I figured it was something I could get done quickly while watching Bobby Flay lose another throwdown.
I glance at the clock, which says it's now 11:00 AM, that means it's 5 PM back home, Kami is probably training, which means Tija is sitting in the lobby of the wrestling promotion reading. Kami says Tija likes to tag along with her nearly everywhere. She's annoyed to hell about it, but I'm glad. Kami is really the closest thing to a mother Tija will ever know... Kami hates to think of it like that, but she knows it too. I snap out of my daydreaming and pull my dress coat out of the closet. I put it on and grab my various things to prepare for my resigning meeting with Mr. Turner. I know some of the bigger names have agents to help them out, but even if I could afford one, I think agents are unnecessary. What I get out of the NYCCW is what I deserve to get paid. And whatever I get paid is what I'll live with. Not saying I won't fight for every dollar, I've got two sisters and myself to take care of.
Looking around I think of what I could possibly need. I grab my passport, my foreign work visa, my wrestling school certificate, and the copy of my old contract. I gather it all into my gym bag and grab my cell phone, wallet, title belt and my dad's old pocket watch. I walk to the front desk to ask the receptionist to call a taxi for me, but as soon as I get there she hands me a peice of paper with a taxi number on it and says shes called one for me and it should be outside already. I blow her a kiss, saying "My dear you are simply fantastic" which gets her to smile and shyly turn away. I return the smile as I head out the door and to the taxi.
Upon arriving at the NYCCW headquarters, I hand the taxi man a ten and head straight for the elevator to the basement. The office of the NYCCW's handyman isn't really an office, but Eddy likes to call it that. I find him sitting at a work table, working on what appears to be a pyro machine. Eddy's an eccentric guy, but he's also a mechanical genius. He deserves a lot more credit than he's given for what he does, but he doesn't seem to mind being behind the scenes. He looks up and flashes a smile that reveals more than one chipped tooth. "Hey! Well lookie here, big old German here for all my money I'd reckon. How ya doin bud?" I return the smile as I hold up the title. "I heard you know a thing about putting nameplates on belts." He immediatley grabs the title from me and tosses it on the table behind him. "Yes yes, need your name on your belt, doesn't everyone. Twenty minutes, now leave me alone, I'm making ART!" As he says this, the pyro machine immediatly sends a 10 foot flame flying up towards the ceiling. Eddy swears loudly as he grabs a fire extinguisher and starts putting out spot fires. I decide it's probably best to leave him to his work. I head back to the elevator and take it to the top floor. When I get there, I am greeted by the stern face of Mr. Turner's secretary. She looks at me for less than a second before she speaks. "Mr. Turner will see you shortly, have a seat." She then pushes a button on her phone. "Mr. Turner, Kried is here to speak with you." "Yes, yes, just give me a moment, I'll be right with him." comes the slightly garbled response from the machine. I remain standing, a big guy like me is better off staying up instead of constantly sitting and standing anyways. after a little while, Mr. Turner comes out of his office personally. And looks at me. "Ah, Mr. Apostle Kried, ha-ha, please, come in come in, let us talk." I give a nervous look around the room before I pick up my gym bag and straighten myself. It's time to remember what I'm here for, and to do what I'm worst at... talk about money. I follow Mr. Turner into his office, and the door shuts behind me.
TBC
Stytch was off doing some random 'secret training' at his place. I didn't press, I figured it more than likely involved his wife, at least I hoped it was his wife. We disagreed on a lot of personal beliefs, but we sure did click in the ring. That probably made us a better team. Less goofing around, more serious worky-worky stuff.
Speaking of worky-worky stuff...
I sigh as I remember my meeting later on with William Turner. We had tried to meet twice already, but he had been forced to cancel both times. This time, he didn't really have a choice. My contract had technically expired right after the ending of last Bright Lights, but it didn't really matter until the next one. I knew William Turner was hard pressed to resign me, I was a champion and a fan favorite after all, but I wasn't going to press my luck. I know I'm still young, I have much less experience than I should. And when you really think about it, half of the Tag titles with a big veteran like Stytch is hardly proof of staying power.
I jump out of the bed immediately drop to my hands on the floor. I rattle off 20 quick push-ups before I go into my morning stretches. After about 10 minutes of stretching, I put on my jogging shorts and a T-shirt and head out the door.
My morning jog starts as soon as I leave my room. Down the hall I say hi to the receptionist, who recently has been kind enough to toss me a bottle of water as I go past. I appreciate the gesture, and remind myself to thank her somehow. I go out the door and grab the steel bar of a luggage rack. I do 10 pull-ups with each hand and jump down to continue my jog. I timed it right today and cross the street just as the light turns green, without even having to pause as I head into the bustle of uptown New York City. Lots of people walk to work here, but I've been here long enough to know the path with the least traffic. "Yo Kried, keep it up man!" I hear from across the street, I look and wave at the Brooklyn-Italliano man who had called out to me while taking a smoke break outside of the Italian restaurant I frequented. "Thanks Ricky, say hi to Mama for me." I replied. He laughed and responded "Will do buddy, will do."
I continued through the streets of restaurants and giftshops as I head deeper downtown I turn just before I reach the residential areas, before I run into a mass of people heading to their typical jobs. I don't have a typical job, I'm a professional wrestler.
I say it to myself again, I'm a professional wrestler. It still doesn't seem real sometimes. Like I might any day open my eyes and find myself at home, both my sisters sleeping in the bed next to me in a tiny apartment house. Maybe if I was lucky, my parents would still be alive. But that isn't what happens. I open my eyes and find myself in the middle of a NYCCW ring. I'm thousands of miles apart from my sisters, and I'm doing what I love in front of thousands of people who love seeing me do it.
I jog past the only Beer Garten I've been able to find in all of New York, Heidelberg. One of the older ladys who works there, Heidi, always takes out the trash just as I walk by. She doesn't care a bit for wrestling, but has made it a habit of jokingly waving her hand sideways and saying "Wer wird fühlen Ihrer schrecklichen Zorn diesmal Kind?"I always smile and say "Niemand, der verdient es nicht Großmutter." I always appreciate her being there, it lets me feel like home isn't so far away. I think she enjoys seeing me there too, it's almost frightening to think how far away we really are from where we came. It's funny how I've never met her, but because we called the same massive piece of land our home, it feels like we have a special connection that is almost like that of family. Maybe I'm speaking for myself, maybe she just feels sorry for a poor German boy who spends his days cracking skulls.
I start to get into more suburban territory as I continue with the third mile of my jog. It's summer, so the kids of the area have flooded the play park by the time I get there. I don't know any of them very well, but they all seem to think it great fun to line up just as I get there and stick out there hands for a quick hand tap from me. Then they all cheer as I wave back to them as I head on. They remind me of Tija somehow, and that gives me a boost of energy just as the days heat starts to pick up. I take a sip from the water bottle and shove it back into my shorts pocket as I come up on this fabulous thing the have in the park called a fitness run. Apparently they have a two mile loop with various wooden fitness stations set up. I keep telling myself to run the whole thing one of these days, but I simply jump on the one station I happen to run past, (leg dips if you're wondering) Do a quick 50 of them, and keep on my usual run. I turn back into the city and reach my hotel again just as I cross the 5 mile mark. I walk in the door and catch the towel the very prepared receptionist tosses me.
I head back to my room for a well deserved (and much-needed) shower. Afterwords, I grab the shoe-shine cloth from the bathroom, switch on the Food Network, and polish the Tag Team title while eating a banana. It's not like I'm some idiotic, narcissistic prick who wastes all my free time, I just really like banana's, and I haven't eaten yet. Oh, polishing my belt! Well, see it's just that I'm taking the title with me to NYCCW headquarters today, I figure I might as well get the new nameplate attached while I'm there. I can't very well have the company think I'm not taking care of the title, so I figured it was something I could get done quickly while watching Bobby Flay lose another throwdown.
I glance at the clock, which says it's now 11:00 AM, that means it's 5 PM back home, Kami is probably training, which means Tija is sitting in the lobby of the wrestling promotion reading. Kami says Tija likes to tag along with her nearly everywhere. She's annoyed to hell about it, but I'm glad. Kami is really the closest thing to a mother Tija will ever know... Kami hates to think of it like that, but she knows it too. I snap out of my daydreaming and pull my dress coat out of the closet. I put it on and grab my various things to prepare for my resigning meeting with Mr. Turner. I know some of the bigger names have agents to help them out, but even if I could afford one, I think agents are unnecessary. What I get out of the NYCCW is what I deserve to get paid. And whatever I get paid is what I'll live with. Not saying I won't fight for every dollar, I've got two sisters and myself to take care of.
Looking around I think of what I could possibly need. I grab my passport, my foreign work visa, my wrestling school certificate, and the copy of my old contract. I gather it all into my gym bag and grab my cell phone, wallet, title belt and my dad's old pocket watch. I walk to the front desk to ask the receptionist to call a taxi for me, but as soon as I get there she hands me a peice of paper with a taxi number on it and says shes called one for me and it should be outside already. I blow her a kiss, saying "My dear you are simply fantastic" which gets her to smile and shyly turn away. I return the smile as I head out the door and to the taxi.
Upon arriving at the NYCCW headquarters, I hand the taxi man a ten and head straight for the elevator to the basement. The office of the NYCCW's handyman isn't really an office, but Eddy likes to call it that. I find him sitting at a work table, working on what appears to be a pyro machine. Eddy's an eccentric guy, but he's also a mechanical genius. He deserves a lot more credit than he's given for what he does, but he doesn't seem to mind being behind the scenes. He looks up and flashes a smile that reveals more than one chipped tooth. "Hey! Well lookie here, big old German here for all my money I'd reckon. How ya doin bud?" I return the smile as I hold up the title. "I heard you know a thing about putting nameplates on belts." He immediatley grabs the title from me and tosses it on the table behind him. "Yes yes, need your name on your belt, doesn't everyone. Twenty minutes, now leave me alone, I'm making ART!" As he says this, the pyro machine immediatly sends a 10 foot flame flying up towards the ceiling. Eddy swears loudly as he grabs a fire extinguisher and starts putting out spot fires. I decide it's probably best to leave him to his work. I head back to the elevator and take it to the top floor. When I get there, I am greeted by the stern face of Mr. Turner's secretary. She looks at me for less than a second before she speaks. "Mr. Turner will see you shortly, have a seat." She then pushes a button on her phone. "Mr. Turner, Kried is here to speak with you." "Yes, yes, just give me a moment, I'll be right with him." comes the slightly garbled response from the machine. I remain standing, a big guy like me is better off staying up instead of constantly sitting and standing anyways. after a little while, Mr. Turner comes out of his office personally. And looks at me. "Ah, Mr. Apostle Kried, ha-ha, please, come in come in, let us talk." I give a nervous look around the room before I pick up my gym bag and straighten myself. It's time to remember what I'm here for, and to do what I'm worst at... talk about money. I follow Mr. Turner into his office, and the door shuts behind me.
TBC
