Perfect Timing

First off, fuck the House of Blues! They really need to state on their tickets that no cameras are allowed in their crappy venue. What exactly is the harm? They allow drinking so that people can walk out belligerent, and before Chicago’s smoking ban went into effect, they allowed smoking so that people can come out wreaking of cigarettes, but you can’t take pictures so that you can take your sentimental mementos home? I’m never going there again.

All in all, other then spending $30 on a ticket that I didn’t use and an extra $15 to cab me to and from that shithole, I still can’t complain. Everything happens for a reason, and I guess I wasn’t meant to be there. I know because I really was meant to go to the Triple H book signing instead...because I’m special…

After being rejected at the House of Blues, I somehow managed to take the train back to my car and drive to Blooming –bufu – dale in about 30 minutes. Getting to Tower Records was a little discouraging seeing as it was 10 minutes before Trips was to arrive and there were over 200 people waiting in line for his autograph. So much for the effort…

I decided to see if I can get into the store as a shopper to at least check out his book when out of nowhere a black limo - Triple H’s limo – comes right at me and almost hits me head on. While most people would have their life flash before their eyes, all I could think of was living out one of the storylines in the career mode of Raw vs. Smackdown (that should come as no surprise - I’m also the one who fell into an ice cold river screaming “Camera!” instead of screaming for help).

Knowing that Trips was now in the area, I ran into and then around the store frantically searching for his book. No book. Like a dumbass, I was searching in the CD section and then the DVD section when I asked myself out loud why Tower Records, a place that sells music and movies, is having a book signing when the friggin store doesn’t even sell books. Someone must have heard my thought because a cashier said that the books were up at the register.

I was going to leave the store to hopelessly wait in line just so I could get back into the store within the next two hours to meet the man who slept with the boss’s daughter and is still living and living well when a store employee said that all the people in the store would have to make way for Trips. I noticed that all the people that were in the store grouped together in what looked like a line so I joined them. Another employee headed toward the door and turned the latch – the store was locked down, no one could enter, but no one could leave either. I was going to meet Triple H…and I didn’t have to wait in line!

Trips walked into the store, did a quick interview, and started the book signing. The first person was a kid in a wheelchair with his parents. The next person in line was another kid, this time with downs syndrome, and was also with his parents. After realizing that the first two kids were “special,” I began to notice the 10 other people who were in front of me – they were either kids with disabilities or the parents of these kids. I also noticed that all of them were wearing green wristbands. To make matters worse, I was the only one not decked out in wrestling apparel, which made me stick out even more like a tall Asian Filipino.

When I finally got to Triple H, he shook my hand and gave me a funny look. It was like he was trying to figure out what was wrong with me, the thing that made me “special.” It didn’t take very much thought because as he was signing my book, the only thing I said to him was, “Hello Mr. H.” I felt really, really special at that moment.

Oh well, it beats having to wait in line for hours.