Sunday, March 11, 2012

Introducing the Wrestling Roommate

The Wrestling Roommate & his son
By Aaron Heller
@stillreal2me on Twitter

I first began my career as a roommate of a wrestling journalist in 2010. While I was beginning my new career as an accountant training in Dallas, my previous roommate snuck out and switched places with some guy who moved into my basement. At first I didn’t notice, however I did notice changes in my home. The first being that someone would leave their shoes right in front of the door for me to trip over like some booby trap out of The Goonies. So every day when I would return home from crunching numbers I would open my door walk in and immediately trip over the stupid Vans sitting in the middle of the floor. I also noticed that there were socks laying all over the place. Who’s shoes were these and how many socks can one person own? Occasionally this man would emerge from his dungeon apartment and use my bathroom, eat my food, and leave dishes on my couch. Other than the socks, shoes, and the fact that my dog now licks the couch for hours nothing else had really changed in my home. Finally one day though I cornered this bearded man living in the basement and introduced myself, and asked him to pick up his socks. I would like to say we hit it off, but alas Adam returned to the basement with little more than a grunt and shrug.

As time went on I noticed packages arriving at our home on a regular basis. When these would arrive Adam would rip them open like a five year old on Christmas morning. He would then rush back down to his basement apartment leaving a trail of socks, shoes, and Fed Ex packaging in his wake. I always imagined it like a scene out of Dexter’s Laboratory where he was down there working on some mad scientist project, but I never really knew what was going on.

One fateful day however my mind was blown. I was downstairs doing laundry and heard some noises coming from behind the door of Adam’s apartment. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I felt like Pandora with that dreaded box, I just had to know what was going on. I slowly snuck my key into the lock, turned it, and slowly opened the door. Unfortunately, (or fortunately if you will) the door to the basement occasionally squeaks. The next scene was nothing short of awkward. The best way to describe it is to think about what happens when a mother walks into her 13 year old son’s room and finds him watching the scrambled channel.

Adam quickly jumped up, shut his MacBook, reached for the TV remote, and yelled something about knocking simultaneously, honestly it was the fastest I have ever seen this man move……ever. As the TV went off I heard someone yelling about how AAAWWWEEEESSSSOOOOMMMMEEEE he was. Adam rushed me out of the room saying something about invading his privacy. I was stunned and didn’t notice as I was not sure what I had just witnessed.

Things were awkward for a while after that, we rarely made eye contact and didn’t say a word to each other for a few weeks. I even went so far as to sneak in and out of my bedroom window to avoid Adam.

Finally, one Sunday I came home after the night service at church to find my living room filled with people watching my television. I watched in horror as grown men hit each other with ladders and jumped from heights that I wouldn’t even consider climbing. Finally the same “awesome” guy from that fateful night “won” by grabbing a briefcase off a chain.

Now some time has passed since these events took place. I would love to say that I have been a fan since then, but let’s face it I don’t have much of a choice. Basically if I am not in my house there is wrestling on my TV.

Seriously, I have image burn of ring ropes on my TV screen. However, at least the secret is out. Every Monday and Friday night I subject myself to sitting in the living room with Adam while he writes his blog. My son (now 3 years old) now says “boots to butts” and tries to put me in choke holds and arm bars.

Now I’m not going to pretend that I know everything about wrestling, I know some lingo, I know what a smark is and I don’t read the dirt sheets (more on that later.) What I do know is that living with Adam Testa is a life experience to say the least and I hope to share just a glimpse of what I deal with daily with all of you.

Like my Facebook page, Aaron Heller, Roommate of Adam Testa, Wrestling Journalist and Adam Testa, Wrestling Journalist.

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