Freyja’d Knot – Forget Jesus, Joey Styles is MY Copilot

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Our Cast of Characters:

It was 2004, and having spent a year traveling with the carnival, I was back in Philly. I had run into a college friend who was a pro-wrestler, while on the road, and shot him a message. See, ever since I was a kid… I had always wanted to be a pro-wrestler. Not one of the ladies of GLOW, but Hulk Hogan (I was a tomboy, give me a fucking break). Later in high school, I would watch ECW with one of my boyfriends and I decided I wanted to be the Blue Meanie’s manager (and bff). To me, he was the epitome of cool. A bigger dude with a don’t give a fuck attitude, who caught shit from everyone and still kicked ass.

Well, it turns out, my pro-wrestling crush would be my first trainer (and later, one of the handful of people I could trust in the business). At least for a couple awesome weeks. You see, the drama on screen is NOTHING compared to the drama behind the scenes in the wrestling business. The company I was starting to train with split, and we were STRICTLY forbidden from talking to anyone from the other company. That included Meanie…

But Meanie and I had a mutual contact, my older “brother” Cain. So I disregarded the no contact order. Which is how I found myself sitting in the Oregon Diner in South Philly on that fateful Friday night where this misadventure started, drinking coffee, and shooting the shit with Meanie, killing time before I had to pick Matt Hardy up at the airport.

In the wrestling business, you pay dues. Those dues aren’t in cash, they are in unpaid labor. Everything from ring crew (where you haul the metal and wood ring into the venue, set it up and then tear it down), to being a driver for people, to supplying food. It is shit work, but you learn the business, and earn respect the harder you work. You also learn very quickly “Keep your mouth shut and your ears open”.

Because I knew I had 3 hours to kill, I wasn’t expecting the phone call an hour into dinner from my wrestling boss. Apparently, Joey Styles had caught an earlier flight due to impending storms in Atlanta, and the person who was scheduled to get him was no where to be found. Oh, and Joey was landing… in 15 min. Meanie, who could hear everything, nodded for me to go and I was out the door. It was not until I was in the baggage claim waiting for Joey that I realized…

I knew his name, but couldn’t for the life of me remember what he looked like! So I called Meanie…

• FUCK! B… I don’t know what Joey looks like!
• He has brown hair, and glasses.
• (looks at the horde of people on the escalator heading down into the baggage claim) THAT’S three quarters of the guys on this flight!
• Believe me… you will KNOW HIM when you see him.
• Yeah… right… Brown Hai… OH SHIT! NOW I KNOW WHO HE IS!
• *hang up to the sound of Meanie dying laughing*

Bear in mind, having worked first as a secretary and then Executive Assistant since I was a teen, I was ridiculously organized, and had a sign with Joey’s name on it. So what he looked like didn’t matter. He would have found me. I am just that level of neurotic (ask Jamie what I am like to travel with). [Jamie: It is a fucking nightmare, and she’s likely getting the BA Baracus treatment the next time we fly. Seriously, I’d rather get a fucking colostomy.]

By the way, the sign was a hit with Joey. Having been from the area originally if there was no one there to pick him up, he was just going to rent a car and drive to Valley Forge. He was on the phone with his wife explaining the deal when (as he later relayed to me) he very excitedly told his wife, not only was there someone there to get him, but they had a sign.

As we waited to get Joey’s luggage, I apologized and explained I needed to get Matt Hardy in about 45 minutes and there wouldn’t be enough time to drop Joey off, and then get back to get Matt. Joey, being completely awesome was excited to get to meet Matt Hardy, and offered to buy us dinner while we waited. Alas, that dinner had to wait because Matt’s plane was early.

I stationed myself with my “Matt Hardy” sign, Joey gleefully standing near by. Having spent years back stage at concert venues, I am never really fazed by names (I did cry when I met an astronaut who was on the ISS thought) , but Joey’s energy DEFINITELY rubbed off and I was pretty damn excited to meet Matt. While we were waiting I had a mother & her 6 or 7 year old son son walk up and ask if I was waiting for “THE Matt Hardy.” I wasn’t sure what kind of mood Matt would be in, so I kindly explained that I couldn’t confirm or deny whether it was the pro-wrestler.

Her son looked SO disappointed that the MINUTE Matt walked up to me, I explained exactly what happened. Matt, Joey and I practically ran to the baggage claim to catch up with the family, and the little boy pretty much burst into tears in happiness when he got to meet his hero.

Very quickly, during the walk to my car, conversation turned to food. Matt and Joey were both starving, having traveled all afternoon. It was quickly decided by Joey, that we were going to Tony Luke’s, being that Matt had never had a real cheese steak from there*.

* Side note: Cheese steaks in Philly are serious business. EVERYONE from that area has a favorite, and generally they are not the Famous 3 (Pat’s, Geno’s, and Jim’s). Personally, mine is either John’s Roast Pork or Chubby’s. Jamie doesn’t have a preference, because doesn’t really give a shit about where steak sandwiches come from if they’re not skirt steak slathered with chimmichurri, but he most often goes to Pat’s (which is leading me to SERIOUSLY reconsider the state of our marriage, because I think their steaks are absolute trash).

Joey Style’s favorite is Tony Luke’s, which is why we found ourselves there at 9:30 at night. Both of them ordered food, while I just ordered a birch beer, explaining I’d eaten with Meanie a couple hours previous. Apparently he was the all clear that I actually was legit and much shop talk between them commenced. Me? I was FAR to bemused about the fact I was sitting in a restaurant with 2 people most of the wrestlers I knew would kill to me as they devoured steak sandwiches and salads.

Fast forward through my hanging out with the Wild Samoans, Matt, Joey, and a bunch of other famous people; me telling Test I’d fucking stab him if he touched my coffee; a shit show where I got blamed for shit I didn’t do, and managed to get it fixed in epic fashion, while completely missing the convention and most of the wrestling show featuring our cast of characters… Because that is a whole different story.

Anyhow, after their show, Matt and Joey grabbed me in the lobby and insisted I drive them somewhere else so they could eat. Some of the other greenhorns were… scary stalker fans, and they knew I would just quietly sit there. I cleared it with my trainer, and just as we were trying to figure out where to eat, the Dudley Boys walked up…

OF course, they were also interested in getting away from the madness. (Some of my really good friends are wrestling fans, but MOST wrestling fans are a couple chromosomes short of a full DNA test)

Now, don’t get me wrong, by this time I was definitely a bit nonplussed by the fact that four very famous wrestlers/announcers were insisting I go eat with them, but I was more concerned about finding someplace open at 11 PM in king of Prussia PA before the building boom…

And then it dawned on me:

I drove a 2 door Honda civic. These were 3 HUGE guys and Joey styles… who while not huge was not small enough to wedge himself in my back seat between 2 of the other guys. When I finally got a word in edgewise to point this out Bubba Ray looked at me and quipped:

You worry about the food. We will worry about how to fit in the car.

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