Wrestling Reality: The Life and Mind of Chris Kanyon Wrestling's Gay Superstar by Kanyon Chris & Clark Ryan

Author:Kanyon, Chris & Clark, Ryan [Kanyon, Chris & Clark, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“You need something, hon?” she said. I

explained my situation, and she seemed like she

wanted to help. “Hold on one second,” she said.

“I’ll be right back.”

In the corner, Dillinger seethed. I could tell he

was looking forward to chewing my ass. The

woman returned about a minute later from the

bowels of the arena. “Jody says he can see you.”

I hopped the rail and walked back with her.

Behind us, Dillinger looked like someone had shot

his dog. In a back room, the woman let me in a

thick door. There sat the fattest man I’ve ever seen.

He wore a black pinstriped suit and he had a wad

of chew in his mouth. When he spoke, his lips did

not move.

“Kendell says you’re a wrestler,” he said. He

did not look up.

“Yes, I am.”

Jody spit some of his dip into a paper cup.

“You got tapes?”

Did I have tapes? Boxes of them. “Yes, I do.”

“Leave me some tapes,” he said. “I can’t get

you on the taping — it’s already booked. But come

back here on May 10, 2 p.m. If you’re as good as

Kendell says, we’ll have some work for you.”

I left, and I was happier than I’d been in a

long while. May 10. That was my brother’s

birthday. Should be easy to remember. When the

nice woman let me out of the arena, I discovered I

was in the theme park. I looked around. No one

knew I didn’t have access to the park. Before I left,

I decided to enjoy the rest of my day at MGM

Studios — for free.

*

“You were right,” I told the bartender of the Prince

of Wales. “You told me to go down there and show

them what I could do, and you were right. I did it,

and now I’ve got a tryout.”

“Well there you go,” the bartender said. “I

had a feeling it would all work out.”

Enjoying celebratory beers at the bar, I

couldn’t believe my luck. After coming back from

Florida, I was on cloud nine. I’d gone from being

really low — not knowing at all what I wanted to

do, or how to do it — to having a plan. I was in a

familiar place again, facing another tryout to

continue my wrestling career, and it had gotten to

be a comfortable feeling. I had my foot in the door,

and once I did, I knew I could show my stuff. I

would convince them I was valuable enough to

keep.

The Power Plant had been receiving a lot of

publicity in the wrestling magazines. It was very

highly regarded and quickly gaining more

popularity. As the days wore on, I counted down

until May 10. Again, it was easy to remember

because it was Ken’s birthday, and I made sure to

give him a call that morning. By noon, I decided to

head out. In my head, I pictured the Plant as a

freestanding building, in something between a

residential or suburban area.

It wasn’t anything like that at all. It was off

the beaten path, in an industrial park, near a part of

town known for its high crime rate. If I hadn’t had

directions, I wouldn’t have been able to find the

place. None of the buildings had signs, and all of

them looked the same, with loading docks and few

windows.

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