I looked across the table at her. Truly a vision to behold, even in her oversized black raybans. Well, dolce gabana. She was an ex Disney star, and I, well I was a rookie superstar with nowhere to be. I mean, yeah, the independent circuit had been kind to me. Five hundred a match, plenty of good money. But i was far from a household name. I was just a kid who could wrestle and had done so in High School Gyms around the country. Spent plenty of time overseaa in the Land of the Rising Sun. She smiled a bit as I sat there, playing with my fork in my potatoes.

"Are you gonna eat those potatoes or just play with them?"

A slight smile crept over my face as I forced myself to take a bite

"Yeah. Just thinking is all."

"About what? Wrestling?"

"Yes Selena. More importantly, my career. I mean, none of the big companies have called me yet, and I swear I've sent out millions of audition tapes."

"It's alot of hard work, I know. Hollywood is about the same way. I mean, I was acting a very young age. Just be confident and believe in yourself, John."

Of course I'd heard that Disney Channel rhetoric before. Always be positive. Honestly, I hated it. You know, she's got a nice rack. The things I'd do to-

"John!"

"Yeah yeah, what?! I'm listening!

Bitch.

"I just thought I saw something on your top, "Miss Gomez"."

What? It's not like she could read my mind. After all, I was the smoothest cracka at school. Top jock of the wrestling team, triple A state champion. Let's just put it this way, if Shelton Benjamin was around now, we'd be The World's Ultimate Tag Team. Of course, I generally work alone. She chuckled as the waiter handed us the bill, and handed him her credit card.

"Oh my god..."

She looked at me confused.

"What? What'd I do?"

"Nothing...it's just...damn I need a job. Women aren't supposed to pay for my dinner. It's supposed to be the other way around, know?"

"Dude, are you embarassed?"

What the hell do you think?

I digress. I cleared my throat.

"No. Not at all. Just wishing Heyman would call already."

"Oh em gee. That weasly rat? God, you'd be better off with a Hollywood agent!"

Maybe she was right. Maybe she was wrong. But for certain, I needed to be hired. Most probably by the Xtreme Wrestling Federation. And Heyman? Look what he did for Lesnar. Look what he did for Punk. ECw? Hello people, I'd love to be a Heyman Guy. Or an Archie Lawson guy even. Once again, I digress.

"Well..."

She stood up, stuffing her Iphone into her purse.

"...in any event, John, I wish you good luck. I have rehearsals at two though, so I'll call you later."

"Cool. Break a leg."

Is it bad that I hope she does?

She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, turning to leave. Being the young man I was, I couldn't help but stare at her ass. But she wasn't a slut, so the raging boner meant nothing. I sighed.

"Where's Lindsey Lohan when you need her?"

Probably rehab.