Hanging Out With Tyler’s Dad and Dave’s Mom

One of the worst things about being sober at times is that you are usually sober when it pays to be a few sheets to the wind. I feel a certain bond with those who imbibe and a certain repulsion to those that are purposefully sober when a gathering gives an environment which to drink. I put myself in a intellectual trap yesterday.

I had made a promise to someone that I would attend my favorite professional wrestling outfit’s event in a neighboring town. I knew of the venue, but I had never went there. I had driven by years ago, but my hindsight was not there. I knew it was near somewhat familiar confines, considering it is a short jaunt from my favorite menswear store.

I had arrived early. I couldn’t find a parking place near the cluster of buildings where the event was, so I parked at a closed store instead. I had found a spot shortly after an “Appalachian-American” peeled out of a dirt spot on top of a curb. It was adorned with some “pre game” beers that someone tossed out. I ran my tire over them.

After a failed attempt at getting in the event through an employees entrance, I walked into a bar with a few narrow passages. I had never been there before. I had seen what looked like a patio, which was sparsely populated. I had sat at the bar for a little bit as a rain storm temporarily wet down the entire area. After a short wait, I stuck my head around the corner. I finally found the wrestling ring I was looking for.

I had already had a run in with one of our favorite wrestlers when I was trying to take a piss. Another was hanging out at the bar. One of the more eye candy friendly ones passed by looking for something. It wasn’t shortly after when we were allowed to go find seats.

I ended up settling in the “middle” area, not near the ring but not at the patio’s bar. It wasn’t the best seat. It wasn’t near the people I knew or the merch table. But it gave me a wide view of all of the venue and its patrons.

I often at fault when it comes to having a bad experience. I have been painted as snooty or overly cultured. (Coupled with being overdressed, I am often called “misplaced”). I am tough on people, often expecting the worst from them in an evolutionary sense. I have to remember that I was creating rules in my life that made things harder, often running contrary to what Rob at Rob Says mentioned: “Don’t care, got xxxx”.

My self imposed punishment (anxiety) would be the stupid crap to be pointed out. Some of the more spirited patrons and their drunk antics would rub me the wrong way. The wrestling “punx” would chap me a bit. The “less than 5s” wandering around were another thing. But after a hilarious set of events, the truth came out.

A friendly lady struck up a conversation with me. She was at an adjacent table. She had mentioned that she always loved watching Dave wrestle. She even shared that he became the respectful man today from being the little kid posing in his Spiderman underwear. She opened up that she was Dave’s mom and Dave’s girlfriend was at the merch table. I about cried when this woman came into my life.

It wasn’t too much longer that I spotted a man in his 50s, decked out in “traditional patio garb”. He had a middle evening stumble going on. Mr. Patio stumbled over my way, hitting me about three different times on the arm. He wanted to tell me about his shirt. It had “Tyler” on it, which was the name of one of the wrestlers. This man was a great hype man, explaining that he tries to get to see him all the time and that the other wrestlers were Tyler’s friends. Their road time was legendary, having spent a decent amount of time together. Mr. Patio told me that he was Tyler’s dad, but with one of the most polite smiles I had seen in a while. I shared that Tyler was one of the best performers there for many in attendance.

I had felt a little bad being judgmental at the start. It was different when I had someone in my proverbial corner. It helped open up my mind to something beautiful. I genuinely learned to appreciate the easy going patrons. I laughed at the funny things yelled by sone of the “punx”.

(And yes, I embraced the ability to see beauty in women without an excessive mental gate. My assigned waitstaff was a Kool-Aid redhead who did her best to be pleasant, who would have smiled if kissed by an appropriate lover. The runner was a buxom brunette that smiled as she shimmied her ample derriere, nearly spilling out of her top. I could also salute the rest of the female staff, who did their best to joke with other patrons and laugh like they weren’t at work.  I might have went home alone but it wasn’t without some bright memories).

The staff were earnest, male and female both. They wrangled cats the best way they could. No one picked a fight and everyone left in one piece.

Hanging out with Dave’s mom and Tyler’s dad taught me that we are often at fault for our unhappiness. It easily could start with choosing contentment, but small things can help us steer towards happiness.

(Note: Rob mentioned that “Don’t care, got laid”, but I often say that this can apply to situations that we build up unreasonable expectations for. Rob may have been quoting someone else or a meme, but it can still be applied).

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5 Responses to Hanging Out With Tyler’s Dad and Dave’s Mom

  1. audremyers says:

    Loved this happy post!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Yeah, sometimes you just gotta let go.

    I drink at the level of the people around me. I hate being sober if everyone is drinking and I hate drinking if everyone is sober.

    As for wrestling, now we’re back in the South, I really want to hit one of these events. My wife’s as redneck as they come. Didn’t even have a toilet in their house when she was little (they had an outhouse).

    Also love interacting with family of the performer. There’s a certain amount of pride in their eyes. This is their kid!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: FreeMatt in Review: 7-25 to 7-29 (2022) | Mogadishu Matt

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