One of the best parts about belonging to the RX Muscle family is the trips. Usually these ventures involve work (a lot of work), but sometimes they're more about FUN. This was one of those relaxing "fun" ones.
It all started a few days ago when WWE Superstar Triple H gave Dave six tickets to the WWE Special: "Hell in the Cell." After including himself and Colette, me, my son Max, and Big Sean Andros, Dave had one ticket left. Who should we bring? The next guy in line was Jeff "The Producer" but Jeff dismissed the idea. Next up was Nick "The Stick" and he readily agreed. Dave told him we were all meeting at his house at 6:00 on Sunday. We all got the instructions. Then Sunday rolls around and Dave had just turned in at about 5:50 AM after a long night of video editing, when his phone signals a text message. Of course Dave dismissed it and rolled over; he'd get it in the morning when he woke. Next, his phone rang and he looked at the caller ID and it was Nick.
"This better be good!" Dave muttered into the phone.
"Where are you," Nick asked.
"I'm in bed," Dave replied. "Where are you?"
"I'm in your kitchen. Where is everyone? You said to be here at six."
Dave exploded: "Who the fuck goes to a WWE event at six in the morning?! Go home and go to bed and come back in 12 hours!"
Yup, Nick "The Stick" was 12 hours early for the trip. As it turns out, we probably should have left 12 hours early for all the traffic we hit. We were all comfortably lounging in Big Sean Andros' living room on wheels making less progress on the Belt Parkway than if we were walking. Why is there stand-still traffic at 7:00pm on a Sunday evening? It's because in N.Y., people "visit." There are a lot of us Italians in the Big Apple and everyone goes to Sunday dinner. Can you imagine the nerve of the WWE in scheduling their "Hell in the Cell" right after Sunday dinner? Geesh.
After we passed the accident that caused us to cover 3/4 of a mile in 45 min, my phone rang. It was Jimmy "The Bull." Good thing; we were getting tired of hearing how Nick's brother, Mike, cock-blocked him the other night when Nick finally brought a girl home. Nick called Mike and asked if the coast was clear and confirmed that it was and everyone was asleep. Right after Nick hung up, Mike woke his mother up and told her Nick was bringing a girl home. Well, if you know Italian moms, that don't fly in the house. So, Nick came home to company and no joy.
Jimmy was talking to me but also screaming at his girlfriend who was screaming at him. Between volleys I was able to understand that Jeff "the Producer" had called Jimmy and offered the proverbial "olive branch". Jimmy must have been drinking because he said he would agree but with "conditions": and they would not be "regular conditions." When I asked what those were he said he was going to see the new Bruce Willis movie and that he would think about it (side note: since then Jimmy and Jeff talked and worked it all out.) Then, through the phone I heard a woman's voice scream, "you motherfucker!" and the phone went dead. A homie knows not to call back under such conditions.
When we finally got to the venue (45 min late) we paid $30.00 to park (that's not a type-o) and went inside. Well, almost inside. With the terror threat elevated, everyone entering the arena had to be searched and they 
were doing it with one line. For some reason, when the door behind us was open (which was most of the time because of the line to get in) a 45 mile per hour wind was blowing through Prudential Center lowering the temperature to about 15 degrees. Taking cover in front of the mass offered by Dave was a black chick that ran about three foot-seven and was screaming into her cell phone dropping F-bombs about every other word. She was pissed her peeps wouldn't come down and bring her the ticket they had for her because she was late. There is just something funny about a short angry black chick screaming obscenities into her cell phone. If Jimmy "The Bull" was there it would have erupted into an F-bomb frenzy.
When we got through the line and grouped back up at the bottom of the escalator Nick "The Stick" was curiously missing. I asked Sean where he was.
"Going back to the truck," Sean said.
"Why?"
"Because he brought his food with him."
Are you fucking kidding me? Nick brought his food? Who is that obsessive? He's not even getting ready for a show! Well, none of us would wait for him so we left his ticket with the usher at the bottom of the escalator. If Nick made it back in then he made it. He was on his own!
What we saw of the event was pretty uneventful. We had missed The Undertaker; he went on first. I had casually mentioned that since we were so late we might as well just shine the whole idea and go to Lookers (a strip club). Then I remembered my son was with us and decided that's probably not a good idea (yet). The last match included our good friend Triple H. That was the best part of the evening; especially since it was the main event. DeGeneration X (Triple H & Shawn Michaels) beat Legacy (Cody Rhodes & Ted DiBiase Jr.) after HHH hit Rhodes with "Sweet Chin Music" and a shot from a sledgehammer. They carried him out on a stretcher in a neck brace. Good stuff.
The ride home was uneventful. Dave pulled out his laptop and began uploading the pics we took. The nav system took us home through Manhatta- - something that sparked a furious argument between at least four of us. Max didn't care because after a cotton candy, large fries, and an order of chicken strips he was still starving. In the midst of another traffic jam on 34th Street I spotted a hot dog stand and jumped out of the 
truck. I sprinted past the truck, bought two dogs, turned around, and got right back into the truck which had just caught up with me. Dave jumped out to throw something away and got back in and asked if anyone had seen Romano. "I'm right here," I said. This surprised Dave because when he last saw me I was buying hot dogs. Pretty fast huh? Never underestimate an old man with a torn hamstring.
We made it home in record time after we got out of the Midtown tunnel, mostly because Sean was driving like Freddy Kruger was chasing him in Christine (the killer car from the Steven King movie of the same name in case any of you didn't get it). Then I had my own wrestling match with Max because he didn't want to take a shower and he was starving......again. Ughhh!!!! Nevertheless, it was a great time and I just want to thank THE GAME, Triple H, for the tickets and the opportunity to tell a story, even if it wasn't about him.
Subscribe to RxMuscle on Youtube
