The woman at the PPW office told me that they had leased the apartment so I didn’t need to stay there past the end of the month. She was very apologetic about the “situation”. Her apologizing got annoying. You feeling sorry about it doesn’t do me any good, lady, so shut up.
Stew came over to give me an update on Kinross and to also say how sorry he was. He was acting so weird that I think he and/or Kinross are the ones who fucked me over. I don’t know why they’d do that but I don’t understand why anyone does anything.
When I first got here I didn’t like it, but now I think I should get a place somewhere. It’s nice to have a base of operations even if you’re not there much. Of course now I can’t do that because I don’t have a reliable income anymore.
I looked at my contract to see if there was some way I could still get paid for the remainder of the term, but it’s pretty clearly stated that if you get canned for being on drugs, you get nothing. Wrestling being wrestling, this isn’t their first rodeo when it comes to that particular problem.
The only other person who came by to tell me “so long” was the boss’s daughter, which was strange because I don’t know if I ever spoke a word to her outside of planning matches. She thanked me for not taking it easy on her. She said that because her dad owns the company, a lot of people are weird around her but that I had just treated her like everyone else.
It feels strange to have someone you don’t respect or like telling you something like that. As she was winding down her speech and told me that she knew I was getting the shaft, she asked me if I wanted to know “the real story”.
I told her no. It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.