There are some things that are just not funny.
When Steve Austin and Booker T were playing a form of Tag in the supermarket and the church Bingo, that was funny.
When Kurt Angle came out with the milk truck and soaked everyone in the Alliance, that was funny.
When Shawn Stasiak made poor attempts to attack the Rock, and kept missing, that was funny.
But my strong feelings for Rob Van Dam were not funny.
I realized these feelings existed during a match between RVD and Eddie Guerrero. As I watched RVD perform his gymnastic-like stunts on Guerrero's already exhausted body, I began to wonder what it would be like to be "with" him.
Lita, quit thinking like that, I scolded myself, but the thoughts wouldn't leave my mind. During my stay with the Federation, I had very little to say to Rob Van Dam. Hell, at the beginning, I thought he was one of the most arrogant, self-centred men in the universe. Always chanting, "RVD!" made my blood boil. Who did he think he was, going around promoting himself like that? Did he think he was a god of some sort? Well, he wasn't.
Until now.
I watched him soar through the air, making defiance against gravity. Just as I found myself entering another fantasy about Rob and myself on a desert island, a pair of hands came up behind me and clutched my waist.
"Oh!" I cried, spinning around. I came face to face with my real- life, and on-screen, boyfriend, Matt Hardy.
"Boo," he said in that teasing voice of his. "You're shaking. What's wrong? Did I scare you that much?"
I shook my head, smiling. "No, no. I was just in deep thought." About Rob Van Dam, I thought to myself, but didn't speak a word of it aloud. Matt smiled.
"What about?"
"You," I said, smiling and moving closer to him. "Always you."
"Mmm. Only good stuff, I hope," he mumbled into my hair. I could feel his breathing becoming more rapid so I pushed him away.
"Matt, you have a match coming up shortly. Shouldn't you be getting ready?" I could hear cheers erupting from the arena and was dying to finish watching the match.
"Yeah, sure. Look, I'll catch you after the match. You take care." With that, he kissed me quickly on the cheek and headed off to find his brother, Jeff, leaving me in Heaven watching RVD fight, and win, against Eddie Guerrero.
Later on that night, Matt took me to a bar to celebrate his victory over the Dudley Boys. Jeff joined us, and we spotted quite a few of the other members from the Federation. The Undertaker and his wife Sara were there. Kane, the Big Show, Booker T, Stone Cold, Vince, his wife, Linda and their two kids, Shane and Stephanie, Triple H and Rob Van Dam. My heart started to pound at the thought of spending a night drinking with Rob so close by me. It could be a dangerous thing, for I have been known to get loose-tongued when I've tipped back a few drinks. I didn't want anything to be revealed. At least not yet.
"Hey Team XTreme! How's it going?"
No such luck. Vince and Linda came over, greeting us, sporting pitchers of beer in their hands. They directed us to a table only two tables away from where Rob, Booker T and Big Show sat. I sat in the seat facing Rob's table and caught him smiling my way a few times. Oh, be still my heart and let us not reveal anything that need not be revealed.
"Have a drink, guys!" cried Vince. "The first one's on me, but you are paying afterwards!" We all shared a laugh. At the other table, Steve Austin leaned over and whispered to me.
"Enjoy. Vince says he'll only buy you one, but after that one comes one more. Then just one more. Then one more that you can pay him back for. Then one more after that for old times' sake." He laughed a deep, throaty laugh. "If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be half in the bag now!"
Debra, Steve's wife, giggled and looked at me. "Lita, darling, how have you been?"
"Help me!" I felt like crying out to her. "I think I'm falling for Rob Van Dam!" In the past, Debra had always been a great sounding board for me. We were very close and she would often come to my hotel room and we would go to the closest coffee shop and share a few moments, not as Divas of the WWF, (or rather, WWE, by the time I write this story and get my true feelings down on paper) but as old time friends.
But I managed to control myself and return the warm smile. "I'm good, thanks, and yourself?"
Steve Austin's reputation in bars should go for a world record. He has sang to more karaoke machines than anyone else I know. He is the greatest drinker, because he doesn't get violent, like some guys I know. He's a pretty calm individual and I love to be around him. So when he got up to sing at the karaoke machine, I laughed and clapped along with the rest of the bar. I couldn't help but notice that Rob kept stealing glances my way and before long, Matt and Jeff had hollered to him, "Quit looking, man, and just get over here for a drink!"
Oh no.
He came over, as real as could be, and where did he decide to sit? Beside yours truly.
"Hey, guys," he said in that soft tone of a voice. "Did Vince offer you his 'one time' free round?" He laughed and raised his glass to us. "To rich bosses and happy, drunk employees!"
"Here, here!" we all toasted before turning back to the stage where Steve was hammering out a drunk rendition of "If You Think I'm Sexy".
Before the end of the night, Booker T had sang us a nice song in a language that no one else understood, Big Show and Taker had done their version of a remix of "Blue Moon" and Bradshaw had come in to sing "Spice Up Your Life" originally done by the Spice Girls. I'm sure the other bar hoppers were enjoying this routine comedy show, but the laughter stopped when Rob stood up at the mike.
"I'd like to sing a song to a special lady in the audience," he slurred. "I know she loves this song, so I thought I'd give a bit of joy back to her after all that she's given to us."
"Here, here!" came a cheer from the back and the entire bar erupted in laughter.
"I'll drink to that!" cried Rob. He looked down as the intro to the music began. Oh, boy. "Always" by Jon Bon Jovi. I adored this song and Rob knew it. Hell, everyone in the Federation knew it. Rob managed to stumble along with the words, which he claimed were moving too fast for him to keep up, but he was determined. He kept going, and I had to admire his willpower to go on in his state of mind. I knew that his wife had left him a few months back and he had been lonely. I felt bad for him, but we had never been that good of friends to begin with.
By the time the song ended, Rob was inches from falling down, so embarrassed beyond belief, I got up and helped him back to his seat.
What a night.
We decided to crash at a hotel that night, instead of travelling all the way to the next city early. That was an interesting decision, made by our boss who was smashed through and through. You try to understand a slurring wrestler at three-thirty in the morning. I felt sorry for the poor guy at the hotel front desk. Then came the best part. Fitting over one hundred people into an already crowded hotel. We came to the decision that although there were only two beds in each room, more than four of us would have to share a room. Seven of eight of us would fit, we figured, so in we went. I got stuck in a room with Taker, Faarooq, Kurt Angle, Molly Holly, Trish, Paul Heyman, Steph McMahon and Rob Van Dam. Try sleeping with nine people crammed into a room made for four people, maximum. Wasn't going to happen.
And guess where Rob slept? Beside me on the floor. Close. And I do mean, close. Considering five of us were sharing the floor, there was hardly any room. Rob and I would have been further apart if we had slept in one of the beds. Oh how fate was tempting me.
When Steve Austin and Booker T were playing a form of Tag in the supermarket and the church Bingo, that was funny.
When Kurt Angle came out with the milk truck and soaked everyone in the Alliance, that was funny.
When Shawn Stasiak made poor attempts to attack the Rock, and kept missing, that was funny.
But my strong feelings for Rob Van Dam were not funny.
I realized these feelings existed during a match between RVD and Eddie Guerrero. As I watched RVD perform his gymnastic-like stunts on Guerrero's already exhausted body, I began to wonder what it would be like to be "with" him.
Lita, quit thinking like that, I scolded myself, but the thoughts wouldn't leave my mind. During my stay with the Federation, I had very little to say to Rob Van Dam. Hell, at the beginning, I thought he was one of the most arrogant, self-centred men in the universe. Always chanting, "RVD!" made my blood boil. Who did he think he was, going around promoting himself like that? Did he think he was a god of some sort? Well, he wasn't.
Until now.
I watched him soar through the air, making defiance against gravity. Just as I found myself entering another fantasy about Rob and myself on a desert island, a pair of hands came up behind me and clutched my waist.
"Oh!" I cried, spinning around. I came face to face with my real- life, and on-screen, boyfriend, Matt Hardy.
"Boo," he said in that teasing voice of his. "You're shaking. What's wrong? Did I scare you that much?"
I shook my head, smiling. "No, no. I was just in deep thought." About Rob Van Dam, I thought to myself, but didn't speak a word of it aloud. Matt smiled.
"What about?"
"You," I said, smiling and moving closer to him. "Always you."
"Mmm. Only good stuff, I hope," he mumbled into my hair. I could feel his breathing becoming more rapid so I pushed him away.
"Matt, you have a match coming up shortly. Shouldn't you be getting ready?" I could hear cheers erupting from the arena and was dying to finish watching the match.
"Yeah, sure. Look, I'll catch you after the match. You take care." With that, he kissed me quickly on the cheek and headed off to find his brother, Jeff, leaving me in Heaven watching RVD fight, and win, against Eddie Guerrero.
Later on that night, Matt took me to a bar to celebrate his victory over the Dudley Boys. Jeff joined us, and we spotted quite a few of the other members from the Federation. The Undertaker and his wife Sara were there. Kane, the Big Show, Booker T, Stone Cold, Vince, his wife, Linda and their two kids, Shane and Stephanie, Triple H and Rob Van Dam. My heart started to pound at the thought of spending a night drinking with Rob so close by me. It could be a dangerous thing, for I have been known to get loose-tongued when I've tipped back a few drinks. I didn't want anything to be revealed. At least not yet.
"Hey Team XTreme! How's it going?"
No such luck. Vince and Linda came over, greeting us, sporting pitchers of beer in their hands. They directed us to a table only two tables away from where Rob, Booker T and Big Show sat. I sat in the seat facing Rob's table and caught him smiling my way a few times. Oh, be still my heart and let us not reveal anything that need not be revealed.
"Have a drink, guys!" cried Vince. "The first one's on me, but you are paying afterwards!" We all shared a laugh. At the other table, Steve Austin leaned over and whispered to me.
"Enjoy. Vince says he'll only buy you one, but after that one comes one more. Then just one more. Then one more that you can pay him back for. Then one more after that for old times' sake." He laughed a deep, throaty laugh. "If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be half in the bag now!"
Debra, Steve's wife, giggled and looked at me. "Lita, darling, how have you been?"
"Help me!" I felt like crying out to her. "I think I'm falling for Rob Van Dam!" In the past, Debra had always been a great sounding board for me. We were very close and she would often come to my hotel room and we would go to the closest coffee shop and share a few moments, not as Divas of the WWF, (or rather, WWE, by the time I write this story and get my true feelings down on paper) but as old time friends.
But I managed to control myself and return the warm smile. "I'm good, thanks, and yourself?"
Steve Austin's reputation in bars should go for a world record. He has sang to more karaoke machines than anyone else I know. He is the greatest drinker, because he doesn't get violent, like some guys I know. He's a pretty calm individual and I love to be around him. So when he got up to sing at the karaoke machine, I laughed and clapped along with the rest of the bar. I couldn't help but notice that Rob kept stealing glances my way and before long, Matt and Jeff had hollered to him, "Quit looking, man, and just get over here for a drink!"
Oh no.
He came over, as real as could be, and where did he decide to sit? Beside yours truly.
"Hey, guys," he said in that soft tone of a voice. "Did Vince offer you his 'one time' free round?" He laughed and raised his glass to us. "To rich bosses and happy, drunk employees!"
"Here, here!" we all toasted before turning back to the stage where Steve was hammering out a drunk rendition of "If You Think I'm Sexy".
Before the end of the night, Booker T had sang us a nice song in a language that no one else understood, Big Show and Taker had done their version of a remix of "Blue Moon" and Bradshaw had come in to sing "Spice Up Your Life" originally done by the Spice Girls. I'm sure the other bar hoppers were enjoying this routine comedy show, but the laughter stopped when Rob stood up at the mike.
"I'd like to sing a song to a special lady in the audience," he slurred. "I know she loves this song, so I thought I'd give a bit of joy back to her after all that she's given to us."
"Here, here!" came a cheer from the back and the entire bar erupted in laughter.
"I'll drink to that!" cried Rob. He looked down as the intro to the music began. Oh, boy. "Always" by Jon Bon Jovi. I adored this song and Rob knew it. Hell, everyone in the Federation knew it. Rob managed to stumble along with the words, which he claimed were moving too fast for him to keep up, but he was determined. He kept going, and I had to admire his willpower to go on in his state of mind. I knew that his wife had left him a few months back and he had been lonely. I felt bad for him, but we had never been that good of friends to begin with.
By the time the song ended, Rob was inches from falling down, so embarrassed beyond belief, I got up and helped him back to his seat.
What a night.
We decided to crash at a hotel that night, instead of travelling all the way to the next city early. That was an interesting decision, made by our boss who was smashed through and through. You try to understand a slurring wrestler at three-thirty in the morning. I felt sorry for the poor guy at the hotel front desk. Then came the best part. Fitting over one hundred people into an already crowded hotel. We came to the decision that although there were only two beds in each room, more than four of us would have to share a room. Seven of eight of us would fit, we figured, so in we went. I got stuck in a room with Taker, Faarooq, Kurt Angle, Molly Holly, Trish, Paul Heyman, Steph McMahon and Rob Van Dam. Try sleeping with nine people crammed into a room made for four people, maximum. Wasn't going to happen.
And guess where Rob slept? Beside me on the floor. Close. And I do mean, close. Considering five of us were sharing the floor, there was hardly any room. Rob and I would have been further apart if we had slept in one of the beds. Oh how fate was tempting me.