“On behalf of WWE, thank you! Good night!”

The crowd went wild, and the cameras panned the capacity crowd one last time before dimming. I heaved a sigh. Going to the event alone wasn’t the same, but this was my weekend away, and the first in years. My son would’ve killed me if he knew that I went without him. I smiled at the replica belt I’d saved for and bought for his birthday: oh, he’ll forgive me, me I thought.

Dressed in camouflage pants and a form fitting front zippered black turtleneck with black duster and boots, I looked like I could have been backstage; I had the figure and look--I just needed to get there. I adjusted my flat top cowboy hat, and strutted about, letting my full length duster flare at my ankles. I appeared here and there, lingering and disappearing, trying not to get kicked out of the arena. I had memorized the entire map of the place, and even managed to get the backstage mazes memorized. I ducked into closets and rooms, laughing at myself, but feeling adventurous. A belt was one thing, but an autograph and a maybe a pic? Priceless.

I must’ve been close to something for someone to yell like that. I widened my stride, and kicked into my past track and field training. I outran the men easily, and ducked through a doorway, closing the door behind me and heaving a sigh of relief.

A chill of excitement went through me as I took in my surroundings. I was backstage! Tech crew and a few wrestlers walked by, not noticing me, figuring I was part of everything. I wanted to stop them, but I couldn’t. I had a mission, here.

I walked quickly, and found the DeGeneration X locker room first. My son had a fan letter for them. I went into the dressing room and carefully took the folded sheet from my cargo pocket, planting it in the bag in which I recognized the Kid’s gear. I took a deep breath, backing a step and opening the door.

Now, it was my turn. My heart started beating really fast. I felt a little sick. I couldn’t believe I was doing this! I ran a few steps, but slowed my pace…blend in, girl, I reminded myself.

Okay...I took a deep breath, mentally regrouping. I finally saw what I was looking for: John Cena’s dressing room. A tremor went through me, truthfully I felt sick. But damned if I didn’t go. I put my hand on the door and pushed in.

With some struggle, I pulled another letter and a box out of my other cargo pocket. Sheez, I’m too old for this, I thought as opened the bag and put them inside. But you only live once, right?

I turned and froze like a deer in headlights, my dark eyes widening at the sight of John Cena.  He was in the usual t-shirt and jeans, looking rugged...God, I do love rugged guys, I thought. 

He smiled, but his eyes were a different story. “How the hell you’d get in here?”

Now he was even more amused. “You went through a lot to get in here, I know that.”

“Done?” He gave that lopsided smile that always melted my insides on TV. He took a step forward.

Suddenly, security appeared. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I lost my party