Jump to content

SWF - The Road To Awe

Recommended Posts

Okay, fine. You're still here. You're still reading. If you want to read my story, my ****ed up little story, my mistake-riddled life story, well. I can't very well stop you. But I warned you. Where to start... hm. Oh, I know. The beginning. [IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/MegaMegaThom/SWF/ThomasLithos.jpg[/IMG] I had all the industry connections one could've asked for. My dad, well, my dad was a bit of a local celebrity. Not for anything special, really, but for the fact that he didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. He talked to everybody. I'm not kidding... everybody. When he went to the bank, he'd always lean against the teller window and ask the teller if "they'd been keeping her busy," whatever that was supposed to mean. Whoever "they" were. He always told me that interactions like this were called "flirting" which, in hindsight, is kind of offputting considering that he's still married to my mother and the girls he was always "flirting" with were usually a good, I don't know... half his age? Probably so, yeah. Anyway, I digress; my dad liked going to the gym. Actually, he loved going to the gym. He'd wake up at two in the morning just to head over to the gym, pump some iron, whatever. I wasn't really into that as a kid; I was a far more unsociable type who kept to himself and his computer. The kids at school, yeah... they were pretty harsh. They'd throw rocks, make fun of my clothes, whatever they could do to make me feel like **** about myself... so I kept to my computer. A computer will never betray you. Eventually, sometime during middle school, I came home to find my dad with a big ****ing grin on his face... which was strange because he never really got excited about anything. Birthdays, Christmas, nothing... I'd never seen him so happy. The first thing he did when I got home was grab me by the shoulders and almost yell in my face. "Guess who I met today, kid!" And then he started shaking me. It's bad enough to have nearly fifty pounds of books in one's backpack, but it's so much worse when a man who's been going to the gym every day since you can remember is pulling you one half second and pushing you the next. "Calm down, dad! ****! What's going on?" He stopped shaking. Cursing had a tendency to snap him back into rational behaviour, at least for a moment or two. I could see the twinkle in his eye... it was something big. "...I met Rip Chord." The jaw, it dropped. The eyes started watering up. It was just another reason for the kids at school to give me Hell, but I grew up watching wrestling with my dear ol' dad... and Rip Chord was one of my favourites. Always had been. I'd cheer him on as a heel, even... yeah. I was a total mark for Rip. And my dad had just met him. My dad had always wanted great things for me, always... he just hadn't ever had the means to help me on the road to great things. Until he met Rip, that is. Dad had never been so strict until that day, but from then on it was waking up at two in the morning, going off to the gym with him, coming home, showering, getting dressed, omelette for breakfast, brushing teeth, going to school, coming back, and eventually I grew into a pretty decently built man. Which is one thing I'd never seen coming. I was always horrendously skinny as a kid, another reason for my peers to mock me.. they figured I'd never be able to fight back. They were wrong, luckily, and eventually the bullying died down. That wasn't the purpose of this bulk-up, though. Oh no. We had much greater things in mind. One day, when he figured I was ready, my dad gave Rip a call. By this time, it was almost nothing special... I'd seen Rip at the gym a few times, although I could count the number of times over three years on one hand. For whatever reason, Denver wasn't as much of a wrestling hot spot as I always had wanted it to be. Anyway, my dad made arrangements for me to begin training with Rip Chord himself. And it was off to training with me. To Hell with high school, I was going to be a superstar. I won't go into details about my training, but let me tell you right know... that Jay kid is a total *******. My training ended in March of 2004, just a few weeks before my 18th birthday... and I was ready to roll. But whenever things seem to be pretty well in place, something always comes up. In my case, Lauren came up. Now I don't know what people are saying about the girl now; a lot of critics say she's talented, that she's destined for greatness, but I'll tell you right now.. that girl ****ed me up. And not a lot of people can get to me on the level that she did. Things with Lauren started fast. Really fast. We had attended the same high school. Briefly. But we'd made a connection. When I got back home from training, my parents were waiting with a huge bottle of Jagermeister and some shotglasses. They were just those kinds of parents, I guess. At the end of the night, I ended up drunk out of my mind and... on the internet. I told you, I was a loser. Well, Lauren was online, and I pretty much demanded that she come over with some sort of post-training / early birthday present. Once she got there, I was feeling sick as all Hell and decided to lay down on my bed. And... that's how things got started. If you think that's a quick start, let me tell you about how quickly we got serious. Very serious. Actually, let me spare you those details in favor of something more interesting; what I didn't know about Lauren is that she had a boyfriend at the time. No, scratch that, she had a fiance. It was just a stupid high school engagement, you know the type... but I guess the guy was pretty ****ed up about what had happened and, in the midst of some sort of conniption, decided to off himself. This was not my highest point. Not even a month after he'd done himself in, I got a ring from good old Rip. He was quite interested in having me to his new promotion (?!!!@?), MAW. And that was the chance of a lifetime. I'd been working the odd indy show here and there to keep money coming into the household after Lauren and I moved out together (!!!!). What I knew, though, was that I couldn't leave Lauren in Denver. After what had happened with her ex-fiance, she couldn't be alone. I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't and... I didn't. Then came the call from CZCW. And DAVE (!@#$!!). But I remained loyal to my girl and stayed in Denver, keeping on with the indy shows. Time passed and, like everything does eventually, my relationship with Lauren started to sour just a little. She wasn't working, blamed her depression over the other guy (who, by now, was well dead) and I, well, I had to take on a full-time job on top of working indy shows to keep up with the fact that not only the industry was starting to fade out, but Lauren's materialistic demands became increasingly daunting. She wanted Prada glasses. She wanted a Nintendo DS. She wanted this, she wanted that, and by now I've just turned twenty-two and I'm not getting any younger. I keep on, though; I stay loyal to her despite the fact that I've garnered a lot of interest on the wrestling scene, not only from promoters but from women, and try to do my best to repair the relationship. Not a week later she tells me that she's going to leave me to [i]find herself[/i]. My ass. A computer will never betray you. I don't deal well with breakups. In fact, I do quite the opposite. It got nasty. It got bad. I started watching wrestling again in an attempt to get the bitch off my mind and oh my... it was nothing like what I'd remembered. So I started blogging. Once again, in an attempt to get Lauren off my mind. What fascinated me is what the SWF was up to... a lot of people look back at SWF in '07 and criticize the booker for the SWF Election debacle, but I saw the silver lining. Plenty of good came out of '07. Vengeance, anybody? Jack Bruce's title reign? Come on now. Anyway, eventually the blog got around to the right people, which was never my intent... "Thomas?" Oh, what the ****... [IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v403/MegaMegaThom/SWF/JerryEisen.jpg[/IMG] It's Jerry, standing in the doorway. Trademark apologetic expression scrawled across his face. I have to go. Dick needs me. Again.
Link to comment
Share on other sites


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Create New...