didn’t want to embarrass myself. He looked up and did a double take. I smiled back, trying to remain calm, cool, and collected. Inside I was screaming like a fan girl.
Oh my gawd! This was it!
When I got up to the stage I held out my hand and introduced myself.
“Hi. I’m Jamie. It’s so nice to finally meet you. And congratulations on your return at the PPV.”
Not too lame. I was proud of myself. When I got nervous I had a tendency to ramble. Or cry. Thankfully I hadn’t cried this time. One time several years back, I might have hypothetically teared up after meeting one of wrestling’s biggest legends. He was so nice, though, and even took a picture with me, which was rare.
Mesquite shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, Jamie.”
The way he said my name made me quiver in excitement.
“You’re not the usual type to be at these things.”
“I’ve been a wrestling fan since I was five.” I replied, feeling the need to assure him that I was a fan.
“I’m sure you have been. Still - not the usual type.”
His eyes ran my body up and down and I swear he undressed me mentally. Usually I wasn’t a fan of feeling like a piece of meat… but with him I didn’t mind. In fact I kind of liked it.
“See something you like?”
He grinned. “Oh yeah.”
The handler that was in charge of keeping the line moving touched my arm and said, “Ma’am, you need to get your autograph and move on.”
I slid the 8x10 photo that I had purchased across the table. Mesquite signed it with surprisingly beautiful handwriting. Then he motioned me to come behind the table to take a photo, which no other fan had done. I handed my phone to the handler and stepped around the side.
Mesquite’s cologne teased my senses and made my pulse quicken. I was surprised when he stood, towering over me. He put his arm around me, pulling me close, settling his hand right on my ass. I slid my arm around his waist and smiled as the photo was taken. I couldn’t ignore it when he squeezed my butt, though, and jumped. Thankfully I didn’t squeal.
“Are you going to the pay-per-view on Sunday? If you don’t have a ticket I can get you one. It won’t be a problem at all.”
I stepped away from him. “I’m not a ring-rat.”
As a female fan the assumption that I was a rat happened a lot. Often times other females would use the term to make themselves feel better. ‘Oh, she’s a ring-rat, that’s why she gets attention. ’ It was the furthest thing from the truth in my case.
He stared at me. “Okay. You’re not a rat. Still… are you going to the show?”
Since that’s what he was there promoting it made sense that he would ask if the fans were going. At least that’s what I told myself.
I nodded. “Front row, hard camera side.”
When it came to seats I was spoiled. Anything after the third row was simply too far away.
“I’ll see you then, sexy Jamie.”
The handler handed me my phone and I caught a glimpse of our photo. Cute! It was definitely going on my desk at work. I made sure not to look over my shoulder as I left, but I could feel his eyes on me. I can’t even describe the thrill it gave me, it was hard to resist doing a happy dance.
May 23
PPVs were always my favorite event to attend. Everything is bigger and better than a normal event and the talent puts on the best show possible. I arrived to the arena about thirty minutes after the event started. I learned a long time ago that getting there early served no purpose except for annoying the hell out of me. Long lines were the worst, especially when not everyone had the best hygiene.
Tonight I wore my ass-hugging jeans and a white tank top with little black hearts on it. My hair was curled and my make-up was on point. I looked pretty dang good. First on the agenda was to get a beer before finding my seat. Sometimes the PPVs started off slow and a beer made me less cranky. The drink
Oh my gawd! This was it!
When I got up to the stage I held out my hand and introduced myself.
“Hi. I’m Jamie. It’s so nice to finally meet you. And congratulations on your return at the PPV.”
Not too lame. I was proud of myself. When I got nervous I had a tendency to ramble. Or cry. Thankfully I hadn’t cried this time. One time several years back, I might have hypothetically teared up after meeting one of wrestling’s biggest legends. He was so nice, though, and even took a picture with me, which was rare.
Mesquite shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, Jamie.”
The way he said my name made me quiver in excitement.
“You’re not the usual type to be at these things.”
“I’ve been a wrestling fan since I was five.” I replied, feeling the need to assure him that I was a fan.
“I’m sure you have been. Still - not the usual type.”
His eyes ran my body up and down and I swear he undressed me mentally. Usually I wasn’t a fan of feeling like a piece of meat… but with him I didn’t mind. In fact I kind of liked it.
“See something you like?”
He grinned. “Oh yeah.”
The handler that was in charge of keeping the line moving touched my arm and said, “Ma’am, you need to get your autograph and move on.”
I slid the 8x10 photo that I had purchased across the table. Mesquite signed it with surprisingly beautiful handwriting. Then he motioned me to come behind the table to take a photo, which no other fan had done. I handed my phone to the handler and stepped around the side.
Mesquite’s cologne teased my senses and made my pulse quicken. I was surprised when he stood, towering over me. He put his arm around me, pulling me close, settling his hand right on my ass. I slid my arm around his waist and smiled as the photo was taken. I couldn’t ignore it when he squeezed my butt, though, and jumped. Thankfully I didn’t squeal.
“Are you going to the pay-per-view on Sunday? If you don’t have a ticket I can get you one. It won’t be a problem at all.”
I stepped away from him. “I’m not a ring-rat.”
As a female fan the assumption that I was a rat happened a lot. Often times other females would use the term to make themselves feel better. ‘Oh, she’s a ring-rat, that’s why she gets attention. ’ It was the furthest thing from the truth in my case.
He stared at me. “Okay. You’re not a rat. Still… are you going to the show?”
Since that’s what he was there promoting it made sense that he would ask if the fans were going. At least that’s what I told myself.
I nodded. “Front row, hard camera side.”
When it came to seats I was spoiled. Anything after the third row was simply too far away.
“I’ll see you then, sexy Jamie.”
The handler handed me my phone and I caught a glimpse of our photo. Cute! It was definitely going on my desk at work. I made sure not to look over my shoulder as I left, but I could feel his eyes on me. I can’t even describe the thrill it gave me, it was hard to resist doing a happy dance.
May 23
PPVs were always my favorite event to attend. Everything is bigger and better than a normal event and the talent puts on the best show possible. I arrived to the arena about thirty minutes after the event started. I learned a long time ago that getting there early served no purpose except for annoying the hell out of me. Long lines were the worst, especially when not everyone had the best hygiene.
Tonight I wore my ass-hugging jeans and a white tank top with little black hearts on it. My hair was curled and my make-up was on point. I looked pretty dang good. First on the agenda was to get a beer before finding my seat. Sometimes the PPVs started off slow and a beer made me less cranky. The drink
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