Free Rumble Road by Jon Robinson Page B

hell are we?” There was this other time when we had a show in Gainesville, Florida, and we ended up in Gainesville, Georgia. Just stupid crap like that would happen because nobody would ever bother checking anything.
    But for the most part, Dean Malenko was the best road partner because he was like a human GPS. Sure, we might make the wrong turn before we got to the right city, but once we were there, he would remember everything about every town. “Take a right, then take a left down here, and after the alley you’ll find the McDonald’s.” It didn’t matter if we hadn’t been in the town for two years, he just remembers everything. I always thought that it would’ve been smart to get an address book, and in this address book you put the town, say, Indianapolis. Then under the city name you put the gym you go to, the radio station you listen to, and the hotel you stay at. It would be so easy just to put all of this information together and just have it all in one place, because we go to the same towns over and over again, but you just forget after a while, and you’re forced to find out all over again where you should stay and where you should work out. Every time you come back to the same town, you’re forced to do the same work all over again. Stuff like that would make things a lot easier if I was a lot more organized, but I just wasn’t. Now that there’s GPS, you don’t need to worry about it as much, but even the GPS will throw you off from time to time. Like today, I punched in a tanning place, and instead of calling the number, I just end up driving there, and fifteen minutes later I pull up to a place that doesn’t even exist anymore. If only I was smarter, I would’ve had all that information in my address book.
    The Two-Hour Turn
    Rey Mysterio
    One time I was on the road with Eddie Guerrero, and this was back before GPS, back before you could just punch in the address to your navigation, and I remember we were on the way to a show somewhere around Lubbock, Texas. We got turned around somehow and ended up driving two and a half hours in the wrong direction before we realized we were going the wrong way. When we realized it, we had to turn around and drive as fast as we could in order to still get to the show on time.
    Usually when you’re driving, you see the signs: thirty miles to wherever you’re going, then twenty-five miles. But it was just one of those nights where we started talking about something, and the conversation was so good, neither one of us realized we were headed completely in the wrong direction. We just kept driving and talking, talking and driving, and then finally I asked him if he saw a sign to the city. He said no, so we decided to pull over and ask someone. Back then, that was our method of getting directions. So we stopped at a gas station, and they were like, “You guys are about two hundred miles away.” Oh my God, I couldn’t believe it. It was already six o’clock and the show started at eight. We hustled as fast as we could and ended up making it to the show at about eight thirty. We were late, but we were still able to wrestle that night. We didn’t miss the show, even with our bad sense of direction.
    The Hangover
    William Regal
    I live a pretty boring life nowadays, but I didn’t used to. I remember one time when myself, Ric Flair, Arn Anderson, and Bobby Eaton were on a loop from Arizona to Lancaster, California, so we decided to base ourselves in Las Vegas for what turned into a three-day bender. We were pretty wild back then, and basically, while we were in Las Vegas, I hadn’t been to bed for three days. But on Monday, we needed to be in Lancaster, and it was Arn Anderson’s idea for us to rent a car and drive from Vegas rather than flying to Los Angeles and driving to Lancaster from there. But as we go to the rental car agency, there were hardly any cars to be had, so we ended up settling for the most ridiculously small car you’ve ever seen. Ric Flair