Post by lucasbalkan on Jul 10, 2020 18:24:35 GMT -5
I get the irony, of course. After months of moving other people’s stuff for pay, here I am moving my own stuff and needing others to help me do it. Why? Well, that’s two separate questions.
Why was I moving?
Well, after so long in the crap studio apartment that had been my little haven of solitude, I was moving to a bigger place. I needed the space as I would be sharing with others for the first time in a long time. In fact, it was the first time that I would be sharing accommodation with more than one person since my teenage years in Dresden.
We’d all talked and realised that to make real the vision that we had, we needed to pool our resources. That meant looking out for each other professionally but also away from the business. This wasn’t some college fraternity or sorority, it was a group of determined adults bound by common cause and solidarity.
When one of them first suggested shared living, I was sceptical.
“Why the fuck do I want to do that?” I believe was my response.
However, they made some valid points and while it seemed like a far fetched and financially impossible idea in New York City, I guessed that it might be something that we would get to eventually. I went along with it, humoured him and forgot about it while we plotted and schemed in other aspects of life.
“Hey Lucas, I found a place. A friend put me onto it, it’s perfect! Want to come and see it?”
Again, I was sceptical but why not? What did I have to lose? Only my self imposed isolation in a shitty studio apartment.
“You’re right. It’s perfect.”
I was totally taken aback. It was an apartment... kind of. It was a converted warehouse space but not the sort that you’ve seen on TV. This place was no gentrified, hipster paradise with juicemakers and beanbags that you might see on sitcoms or feel-good movies. No, it was more like the setting of a horror movie or where the reluctant hero in a crime movie would live. But it worked. It was rent controlled, it was owned by a friend, it was spacious and it allowed us all to be together.
It was time to move on.
And why did I need help moving my stuff?
Well, by this stage, I was wrestling again. I still had the Uber, I was still kicking people out of the bar that Kadi worked in but the fire for professional wrestling had been relit and I was back. Only small shows, for sure. I had no intention of jumping back into an industry that chews people up and spits them out. I was just scratching an itch that had been there since I left SFT.
I had been wrestling in a no disqualification match the week before and I had dislocated my shoulder. It wasn’t even some gory, hardcore story that would make the bruisers and maniacs of old ECW proud. I mistimed a dive, my opponent was a coward and dived himself. I hit the front row of the audience - and their seats in the bleachers - hard.
I finished the match, I won - ironically - and went back to my journey. Our journey. I just needed the extra hands to do the heavy lifting for a bit.
You don’t need to worry about me not doing my share of the heavy lifting now though, Emerson. That was in late 2018, my shoulder has recovered, time has moved on. I’ve moved on. I’m much further along in that journey than I was then.
We have a fairly storied history, you and I. You have been a champion for some time now here in SFT. In your third reign no less. And our histories intertwine there. To win that belt the first time round, it was me that you defeated. However, it was a shell of the man I am. I was already fading when I took the World Title in SFT and my laughably short run as the champion was one of the reasons that I eventually burned out.
I get the impression that you respect me. I don’t know if you like me but that doesn’t make huge amounts of difference, if we’re honest. I respect you, for sure. I respect what you have done in SFT over the last few years and I respect that progress that I have seen in you. Do I like you? I don’t know. To be honest, I haven’t really considered it. You are an other. You are a sometimes ally, often opponent. I don’t really have time for thinking about whether I like people in that boat.
However, I do give you my word that I will do my utmost to qualify you for the final of the Lethal Lottery, Emerson.
And to do that, we’ll need to pin one of our two illustrious opponents. Including my partner from the last time out.
Jay, I’m not sure that I... get you. Clearly you have achieved some things in your career and it seems that you could talk for days. While you seem to struggle with literacy and basic comprehension, you certainly aren’t shy. That’s good. You scored the pin in our match last time out, defeating the perpetually disappointing Reno Destiny. I’ve watched your matches, I’ve heard what you have to say, I’ve even teamed with you but I don’t think that I truly understand you.
Why did you disappear after you won the IC Title? What brought you back? What’s the deal with you and Rumpke? Do you think, like me, that your buddy Candace is far more deserving of being at this stage of the tournament than you?
Lots of questions, Jay. I don’t really know if I’ll ever get the answers to any of them. What I hope that I will get, is satisfaction in ending your run in this tournament. More so than the eventual opportunity that the win will bring me, the opportunity to snuff out the flames of others is bringing me great joy. So many who feel that they deserve to win, rather than working to win. So much arrogance and hubris. So much entitlement.
And speaking of entitlement. It’s the taxman’s taxman, the wealthy’s money man, it’s... the Accountant.
Let’s not do this dance too much now, friend. You could not beat me before and you will not now. You have been so distracted by Eli Martin, Jack Jones, briefcases, hardcore title matches... I’ve not. I have been laser focused since arriving back.
I beat you and then I’ve won all my matches in this tournament. I plan on continuing that run of wins and completing the first stage of the journey that I’ve been on - whether I’ve known it or not - since that fateful night that Emerson pinned me to take the SFT World Title several years ago.
I don’t know much about the world of taxes, accountancy and finance. I didn’t go to college, I’ve never had a desk job, I’ve never been to Washington... But I can’t imagine that it’s the same as our business. Maybe it is as cut throat as professional wrestling but I suppose the likelihood of physical injury is, at least, lower. You may be “the best damn tax man in Washington DC” and you may be a veteran in SFT but you are something else. Something that you might understand.
You’re a statistic. When I look back on this tournament and this journey back to where I belong, I won’t remember you and specifics about you. I’ll just know that I’ll have defeated 6 other wrestlers - one of those twice - on my way. You’re just a stepping stone, one that I have absolutely no qualms about stepping on.
I’ll be moving past you and Jay next time out.
And then I’ll be moving on to the final.
Moving on in my journey.
