Then I Went Out

There's nothing quite like hollering and cheering for a couple hours to dry out your throat. As a result, I decided it was time for a trip to RageBreakers for a beverage or two. I mean, I was already out and about in that general area of town, so why not stop in?

It is one of the main advantages of being on your own, as I often am. You get to make these decisions on your own. Tired? Go home. Not tired? Don't go home. No discussion required, no 'well how tired are you?', you just go or don't. Which is nice I admit. On the downside, you've only got yourself to talk to when you're on your own, which can get rather tedious. It's not that I'm not friendly and don't met people this way as clearly I do. So it's a toss up I guess. I mean, if I had a girlfriend or a wife or companion of some sort, I might not have even gone to the wrestling at all. Maybe we wouldn't have gone out at all.

I'm clearly thinking about this too much. What I should be focusing on is the joys surrounding RageBreakers, my pals there.

Before I was near the mighty staircase that led to the massive bar, I found my pal Chicko. “Brah! Good to see you man. How you been? Oh man you picked a great night to come by, lots of lovely ladies and the LLW guys are here. Great night.” His enthusiasm was tempered by his duty to his job. “Busy, busy night. I'll catch you inside. Good to see you man! Hey, make sure you say hi to Arturo on your way in. He's at the door.” Just as suddenly, he was off.

I resumed my walk to the staircase and the bar beyond. As I ascended the curving staircase, I could see Arturo, aka El Pantera Plata, at the door, already in conversation with someone. I'm not much for interrupting someone's conversation unless I've got time-critical news to impart and even then I'm not that keen on interrupting. Still I thought I might be able to wave as I walked past, share a greeting without causing too much of a disturbance. As I walked past, I caught El Pantera Plata's eye, nodded, and waved. He beckoned me over.

I approached with a mix of hesitation and confusion. I still didn't want to interrupt and was concerned that I was misreading the gesture to join them. My confusion was caused by the fact that El Pantera Plata seemed to be rather chatty with his friend. That was rare. A chatty El Pantera Plata seemed to be a rare and beautiful thing, like a butterfly. Okay, maybe not, but it was different and interesting.

“... and then he fell off the stool!” exclaimed the friend. At this punchline, El Pantera Plata howled with laughter, slapping the wall to fully express the level of his mirth.

After wiping the tears from his eyes and adjusting the positioning of his silver and black mask, El Pantera Plata extended his hand to me, exchanging a hearty handshake. “Hey Jose,” he said to his friend, “this is Patrick. He's okay.”

Jose and I shook hands. He was a gentleman of some Latin descent, probably old enough to be my father. His dark hair was neatly combed and his nice suit was only slightly rumpled. “If Arturo says that you're okay, then you must be okay.”

El Pantera Plata finished the introduction. “Patrick, this is Jose Cantiflas.”

I know that name. Why do I know that name? Thankfully, the information popped into my head when I needed it and not three hours later like normal. “You run the LLW, don't you?” With a smile, Mr. Cantiflas nodded. “I just came from your show. Excellent card sir.”

“Thank you for saying so. I do my best but you never know how things will work out until the wrestlers are in the ring and they clash.”

“Hey,” El Pantera Plata interjected, “if you buy a round, I betcha Jose will tell you a story or two. Patrick likes stories.”

“I do.”

“Well, we're celebrating the title change tonight so it might be quite a round you'd have to pick up,” Mr. Cantiflas warned.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was being invited to join in with the wrestlers. “That's okay.”

“In that case, welcome to the party!”