How I never met Rey Mysterio

This is basically the only angle that I had of Rey during the entire event.

What psyched me up the entire week was the news that Rey Mysterio was coming here to the Philippines for a meet-and-greet. The vow that I will never miss that for the world blinkered profusely in all parts of my mind, "never again", it seemed to say. So I went to Trinoma yesterday to catch that. I even attempted creating a Rey Mysterio mask, hoping that I could still be eligible to enter the contest, which a certain television network concocted to form a VIP legion. But then I had to discard that option due to the lack of time.

A little obscure fact: the first wrestling match I ever watched was that of Rey Mysterio against The Big Show. Rey won, in case you are wondering - even though I rooted for Show. So, yep, it was a rather big deal that Rey was going to come. VIP or not, I just have to be there. Maybe he'd sign my magazine! - the one with him on the cover, Holiday 2010. So I brought that along.

Hm. Contrary to their usual tradition, Studio 23 didn't chop up this episode. Interesting.

Upon my arrival, circles of inquisitive people were already closing around on all floor levels of the mall, huddled to witness the event at the activity center, in which a replay of RAW's 1000th episode was being displayed. And who would I find in the VIP section but... kids? Kids! Little kids, who, I bet, do not even watch wrestling or did not watch it until last year when CM Punk made it big again. A swarm of spoiled, rich kiddies whose parents happen to be well-connected with the media! While there I was, outside the barricade, shunned out of Rey's sight, when it was me who have been watching wrestling for eight years - at least half of my life - even before the VIP kids became sperms in their father's testicles!

Since I was way behind the stage, I never in actuality got to see Rey the entire time he was taking pictures with those spoiled brats. Instead, I was screaming "Rey! Rey! I love you, Rey!" at the top of my lungs like some psychomaniac freak. Yet, as soon as I said those, LEGIT tears formed in the corners of my eyes - all the things that I have ever wanted to say, summed up in a ball of words that furiously rolled towards open space, as I hoped - I really hoped - that he would hear them and notice. Of course, he never did. I was drowned out by the noises, the Booyaka Booyaka 619 profusely playing as the meet-and-greet ensued for what seemed like ages. I only caught glimpses of him as the event was about to close. And, by that time, I, along with my fellow "nobody's"/"non-VIP's"/"peeps without connections" were shouting our support for Rey-Rey, hoping that he'd just look behind him for once. And in fact, he did just that.

Nganga.

Sad, isn't it? That he never got to sign my WWE Magazine or that he never got to slap the skin of my hand were not the bad parts of it. It was that feeling of self-loathing that came to me after he had turned around just to see us that broke my heart the most. I've been meaning to understand the sequence of events on my way home. Why I felt so sad. And, in fact, I think I got it already. Was it because there was no such kind of redemption? A smile, a wave, anything? Perhaps I was just tired.

I can also play the blame game. And, believe me, if you know me at all, I am not one who would play this game for the world. But yes, I think it rather puts off the stress when I try. I blame the event organizers and their sucky arrangements. I blame the fucked-up security guards who insisted on blocking our view of Rey, just so they could, more or less, get their fifteen seconds of fame when the cameras arrived. And because of this act of vanity at katangahan (no other words to top this, I couldn't emphasize better), some fans outside the barricade, actually got past the railing squeaky clean! And these same security guards have the audacity to be angry when that happened? Ha! Unless my theory that the VIP's bribing the event organizers is true, as far as I am concerned, those suckers never paid a dime to get in! The resignation was a matter of luck via online registration, that's all.

So yes, now I also blame the rich spoiled brats who have powerful daddies in or within connection to the networks, even that sumbitch who presented the plate of adobo. The nerve of some of them sporting a Daniel Bryan/CM Punk shirt, which were only either purchased abroad or online for a high price. Those bitches. And they were chanting D-Bry's "Yes! Yes! Yes!" for NO apparent reason at  all WATTAFUCKISUPWITAT?! And to stand on seats AS THOUGH THEY WERE NOT CLOSE ENOUGH TO REY ALREADY! What an insult!

Take notice of the guy with the hat who is about to block our view  - again.

This event doesn't change my view on the man that Rey Mysterio is. I will forever like that guy. I will forever love the company he works for. Yet, it was a sad day, no doubt about that. I was so close yet so far. Soooo close. Too close. I could have studied for my midterms exam but didn't out of love and respect. Yet, I don't feel as though it was worth it. Not one bit. I had a circle of emotions on my way home, even now as I write this, but the ones that sink down most painfully are self-deprecation and dislike for everyone in that event - bliss being out of the picture.

Suppose I get lucky next time. I'll earn money and buy tickets. Then I'll come back for everything.

Maybe then, I wouldn't cry in the FX going home.

Nagpaganda pa si Ate...

Yet, from the get-go... consider this event a failure. All my hate.