PRO SERIES: Flying To México For Donuts: A Fistful Of Donuts

I came to a foreign country on a one way ticket, to wrestle, with the promise that a return would be purchased once I arrived, since “they’re cheaper, last minute, in Mexico”.

I trusted the promoter because many of my trusted wrestle-brothers spoke highly of him, so I wasn’t concerned when he gave me the “house was low” speech in regards to looking into finding the cheapest ticket.

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I was actually looking forward to having time to check out Mexico City.

Since I hadn’t wrestled, I agreed to not take my fee for wrestling; though it was not my fault I still didn’t provide the service I was contracted for.

I was still getting free airfare to (and hopefully from) Mexico, a free hotel, and some free meals out of the deal; which was pretty good considering.

Monday morning I went out with a few Mexican and American wrestlers to take in the sights.

After a short walk, I got a selfie with Arena Mexico and browsed through the tiny store front of MTZ Wear.

With that done, I didn’t have a damn thing to do, so when Laredo Kid invited us to accompany him to Lucha Libre powerhouse promotion AAA’s offices, I decided it was a great idea. It wasn’t.

We took a subway ride that was as cheap as a non-profit prostitute and twice as crowded. That was kinda cool.

I found a discarded newspaper while we waited for a train, it was filled with graphic pictures of murdered bodies. Interesting, but not so cool.

When we arrived at the area where the office’s were located, we had to wait in the heat for one of Laredo’s friends. Literally not cool, as I was sweating my huevos off. Figuratively, kinda cool, as I used the time to climb public trees, and jump around like a child; one of my favorite activities.

We were waiting by a bake shop, and I took a moment to peruse the pastries.

“Not on the grain free dietski.” My conscious reminded me.

No donuts, yet.

When Laredo’s friend arrived, we took a short walk to a heavily gated mansion and were buzzed in.

It looked like the Mexican version of a plantation house from Anne Rice’s imagination, with a little window decal of the AAA logo. That was kinda cool.

We were told to wait in the brick paved, pretty, little tree adorned courtyard. Wait we did: for about an hour and a half. Literally, kinda cool, because it was a nice shady area. Figuratively, not so cool because it was an anxious-awkward 1.5 hours.

Finally Laredo emerged and said, “Let’s go.”

Short walk, long, crowded train ride, short walk, back at the hotel in the late evening.

The promoter took me out to dinner and I gorged myself for the second night.

As I returned to my lonely hotel room, after a seemingly pointless day, I asked the part of my brain that I have trained to reason out meaning in my life, “What the f___ am I doing with my life?”

I fell asleep in the silence from whence no reply came.

I awoke to a knock on the door.

It was the promoter, “Ju wanna go down to tha bakery and get some donuts.”

*Walter White Voice: You’re. God. Damn Right!*

“Sure.” I said.

I picked out a couple size eleven shoe sized, fresh, chocolate-covered, sweet cream filled, cone shaped diet destroyers.

While I sat there comfort-mashing the most amazingly delicious sugary evil, I have ever had the fortune of poisoning myself with, into my greedy mouth in a state of tastebud ecstasy, with any concern I may have had for my abdominal muscle definition tied up in the backroom of my brain, the promoter looked me in the eyes and asked, “Would ju be okay to maybe stay anot’er night?”

Well, f__k.

“Sure. No worries.” I said aloud.

“Always an adventure.” I said internally.

Looks like I might end up seeking out the comfort of a few more donuts.

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