RNBPL is supposed to deliver her not-zombie soldiers at the end of the month, so I have some time. Not a lot, but some. I called the Man from Mississippi, aka badass John C. Reilly, aka the guy who I probably should be working for instead of wrestling. I told him that I needed five grand fast. He asked me how attached I was to my kidney.
Once he was done busting my hump, he said that he could get me a fight for 1000 dollars in two months. I told him that was too thin. After another long session of hump busting, he said that if I was okay “going underground” he could get me a fight for $1500 next week. He explained in great detail how grateful I should be because that’s a lot more than normal. “Chick fights are rare” as he stated it.
The problem was that it was in Miami and I had a show in Sioux City the night before. That’s a good 25 hour drive. The math on that may seem simple – $100 versus $1500 – but I pride myself on keeping my commitments. Plus every time you flake on a show, that makes it that much harder to get another. And I’ve been mildly flakey the last few months.
The solution to that problem was to drive to Omaha after the Sioux City show and catch a 6 AM flight to Miami the next morning, which was going to cut into my profits, but a grand is better than zero dollars by any math. I couldn’t buy a ticket online since I don’t have a SSN and therefore don’t exist and my magic trick doesn’t work on computers. I figured I could buy a ticket at the airport. According to the internet, you can do that and it’s cheaper when you do.
It didn’t work. In one of my first posts, I wrote about how my spell for ID works by making people see whatever they think they need to see. But it doesn’t hold up under close scrutiny. I don’t know if the guy at the airport was extra skeptical or if it was all the computer entry or why it didn’t work, but he started frowning and looking hard at my “ID” and I got spooked and bailed.
As I write this it’s 1 AM, I’m in Omaha, and I need to be in Miami for an unsanctioned, unlicensed fight where I’m probably going to get my ass kicked by 6 PM. Time to work some magic.
Rocket Cat 