It's occurred to me that I spend more time talking about the OSCW wrestling after-parties than I do the actual shows...which probably isn't great promotion work
So here's the run down.
The show was great. Eclipse is the new OSCW champion after defeating Heavy Metal. Brady Roberts made his triumphant return. Barricade--well, he didn't WIN his match--but he's in the record books as "not losing" which is forward progress, I suppose.
Also, Big Jess accidentally pinned a referee and threw up under the ring.
Next show is December 12. I actually have tickets this time, so you can buy them from me.
In comedy news, it was a good weekend. I did a spot at the Comic Strip that was filmed. I was happy with the set, and if the quality is okay, I may shortly have a decent current clip of myself on YouTube. BUTCH BRADLEY is headlining there and he's a great comic in addition to having some hair-raising stories about his multiple tours entertaining troops in Iraq.
Say, did you know OSCW has after-parties?
As usual, many ridiculous things happened. We sang a lot, I salsa-danced with the promoter's significant other and had my shirt ripped open by a woman I hadn't met, and 'The Athlete' Alexander Hale and I were hit on by a rather interesting woman, which lead to me saying words that I've heard 93 235 935 times in bar pick-ups but have never actually uttered myself until that night.
This woman looked like a cross between Miss Hannigan in Annie, and the mummy. She was weathered by time and despair, extremely drunk, and terrifyingly sexually aggressive.
She slinked up to me as I was finishing my song and without saying anything, stood inches away from me, raking her gaze--which blazed with naked hunger--up and down my body.
To which I replied classily: "Lady, you're scaring me."
(Big Jess overheard this exchange and burst out laughing. I think he thought I was joking or teasing her. Naturally, I encouraged this interpretation in order to maintain my dignity in front of the guys, but I really was scared. It felt like coming face to face with one of the witches from Neil Gaiman's Stardust)
She then pulled the same move on Alexander Hale. Hale is over six feet tall and 200 pounds of twenty-something main event muscle. This man broke his arm in two places and gutted out fifteen hours of agony before he was able to make it to the hospital.
Alexander Hale is a tough, tough man.
Yet in this moment, he had the wide-eyed, pale expression of a four-year old who has just discovered the Boogeyman is real after his babysitter accidentally left the closet door open when putting him to bed.
And that's when I said the words. They're words I've heard in every awkward bar pick-up situation I've ever seen. I've heard them said to strangers, friends, and even had them said to me. But I've never heard them said by a male. Certainly I never believed I would say them.
But I did. I opened my mouth, straightened my spine, looked that woman assertively in the eye and said...
"I have to go to the bathroom now."
And Hale, without a second's hesitation, said: "I'll come with you."
I didn't actually grab his hand and pull him away like a nineteen-year-old girl saving her friend in a nightclub, but I'd be lying if I said the thought didn't flash across my mind.
(There's a post-script to this story. While the woman was singing her song, "Cold As Ice" William Saint, who is supposed to be OSCW's heartless, vicious, sadistic villain went up and presented her with a rose. And when she attempted to make out with him, he deflected her with grace and good-humour, citing loyalty to his wife. So in the end, the good guys hid in the bathroom while the bad guy made some lonely woman's night. There's a moral here somewhere.)