Title: "Zero The Hero"        

         It was nearing midnight. He pulled his rental into the parking lot. The only place open in Miami, Florida during that time was the Waffle House, an entrusted sidekick to the traveling wrestler. If you ever wanted to meet a celebrity, so the legend told, venture to that particular food chain after closing hours.

         He let the engine run for a moment as he just sat in his seat and relaxed. Earlier tonight, Zero had been involved in a rather melee of action. But sitting in his car after the last light in the arena had dimmed, he was just Lint Douglas, a hungry man who had stopped at the first place that had their lights on. The soreness in his shoulders would be fine by morning, he hoped. Turning the key to shut off the engine, getting something to eat before a quick sleep then a flight back to California seemed more important than any imminent aches.

         He walked into the restaurant and took a seat near a window. A waitress came by and gave him his menu, then asked him what type of drink he would like. Telling her, he opened up the menu to thumb through it. He already knew what he wanted, but browsing through the menu each time offered a chance for him to see something that he possibly had never seen before. Scanning to the backside of it, there had been no luck. It was the same menu that he had seen from many different states. He placed it down in front of him and waited for the waitress to reappear and take his order.

         The restaurant itself only had a few occupants during the time. An older man with cigarette smoke engulfing him sat on a barstool. He stared across the bar to the ovens against the wall. He was oblivious to the ashes that fell from time to time, occasionally grazing something that he might still possibly eat.

         Down from the older man and sitting in a booth was a couple, obviously on one of their first dates together. Their meal had been left practically untouched. The only thing those two seemed to live off of was the sparkle that emitted from each other's eyes. It was touching, but not in any sort of practical way. Give them three months and then see how much food both had consumed.

         Behind them, two seats down sat a young family. It was the father and mother with their young son. He looked to be no older than seven or eight. The family painted a refreshing scene inside of the restaurant. It was the middle, perfect point in a normal life period. They were through the stage that the couple in front of them were in, but had yet to face realities that could quite possibly entrench them to the point of where the older man rested. That young family represented harmony, and it was obvious from their joyful mannerisms towards their young school-aged son.

         And then there was Lint. He fit inside of that spectrum, didn't he? His proper placement, though, was something that he couldn't pinpoint, but he felt that he fit in somewhere past or before each of the extremities present.

         The ping of his glass being sat down on his table broke Lint from out of his thoughts. He looked up to see that the waitress had come to take his order. He slid the menu over to her as he gave his order. "Hamburger, side order of hash browns, and a biscuit." It was the same from one place to another. Changing the type of meal would be to him like changing his style of hair. It took him years to do that, and even then he was reluctant to do such a drastic shift. If something worked without problems, he felt that there was never a need to change it.

         She picked up the menu as she finished jotting down the order. "Would you like anything else with that?" she asked. She was young. She tapped with her pen onto her notepad like a schoolgirl sitting in class as she looked down at Lint.

         He looked up at her and shook his head slightly. "No thank you, that would be it."

         She walked back off to the cooking area to hand the order over to the cooks. Lint watched her walk away for a moment before he turned back around and took a sip from his drink. Funny, he thought to himself as he slowly swallowed, just a few hours earlier thousands of people were chanting his name. In just a few hours after that, though, he was customer number whatever for a waitress working the fifth hour of her eight-hour shift. She could care less who he was. Only his order mattered, and she had to remember to be polite in order to get the tip. A status, he mused in his mind, was nothing more than a feeling inside of a group. Outside of that, a whole new status system arose. There were no definite lines that overshadowed any other. All held their rankings, but seldom did they overlap. Lint liked the fact of that. It kept everyone humbled.

         As he sat in his thoughts, he felt the vibration of his phone go off in his pocket. Retrieving it, he answered with a "hello." A woman's voice was on the other line. "Hey, how are you doing?" He hadn't planned on calling her until he had made his way back to the hotel room. Her calling came as a surprise, but it was not an inconvenience. "Did I catch you at a bad time?" she asked.

         "Oh no," he replied. "I was just sitting here at a Waffle House. Going back to the hotel room after I leave here. The plane lifts off tomorrow morning at seven, so I will probably get my bulk of sleep during that flight." He drank from his cup as he listened to her speak. She told him that she was about to call it a night. The baby had gone to sleep earlier than usual, so she was going to capitalize on the opportunity.

         From across the restaurant, the table that held the young family began to stir. Lint caught a glimpse of them out of the corner of his eye, but continued to talk on the phone without observing where the family was going. The father of the young boy stepped out of his seat and helped his son out behind him. The wife got out last and started walking towards the exit, stopping just before she went through the door. The father and son slowly walked towards the table where Lint sat.

         "Are you a wrestler?" A young voice sounded at the edge of Lint's table. Lint brought his face around to see the young boy standing there, his father in-tow behind him. He looked to be slightly embarrassed at the situation.

         "Hey, give me just a minute and I'll be right back," Lint said into his phone. After the reply, he placed it down on the table and turned in his seat to face the two. He nodded to the father. "How are you doing?" He then spoke to the young son. "Yes, I am. Were you at the show tonight?" It was the difference in the waitress and the boy who stood before him. Some lines overlapped slower than others.

         The boy lit up in smiles. "Uh-huh! I saw you there tonight! My mom and dad brought me!" He looked to be bubbling in excitement to meet one of these larger than life characters that he had only before seen on television or from a seat far away from them. In his eyes, he finally had the one in a lifetime opportunity to meet Zero! And just so be it, there he was sitting down from him. People don't get chances like that, do they?

         The father stepped forward. He had started to blush in embarrassment for disturbing Lint because of his child's fixation. "We're sorry. I didn't want to interrupt you, but as we were leaving, my son just had to come over here and say hi to you. We took him to his first wrestling event tonight and he saw you out there. He recognized you earlier while we were eating, but I didn't want him to disturb you." He placed his hands on his child's shoulders to help prod him along so they could be on their way and Lint could return to his phone conversation.

         Lint, instead, held out his hand. "No, it's okay…" He paused and thought back to his observations earlier. Perhaps, the boundaries did overlap. In the child's eyes, he was still set in the reality that extended over the wrestling arena. He looked up to the father. "You have a good kid." He looked at the boy. "What's your name?"

         The young boy's face lit up in a big smile. "Tommy! I'm going to be a wrestler when I get big, too!" He unconsciously puffed his chest out at the mentioning of him getting to be a "big boy."

         Lint decided not to comment on the statement. The road to wrestling was not an easy one, nor was it for everyone. Many people who wanted in it found out that they really didn't. And, many people who never thought about it… found themselves, somehow, right in the middle of it. So instead, Lint carried the conversation elsewhere. He looked to see the fWo shirt that Tommy had on. "Well, Tommy, would you like me to sign that T-shirt that you have on?" Tommy was still a proud carrier of that smile. He turned around with big eyes towards his dad, as he had to transfer the excitement further past him so his dad would know what Lint just told him, as well. "Please!" was his reply as he turned back around to Lint.

         Lint pulled a pen from out of his pants and scooted over to the boy. "Hold still for just a second," he said. As his hand went down to the shirt, the first letter that he instinctively began to write was an "L." He had to pause and catch himself before carrying it further. There was something that he realized. "Lint Douglas" was someone who this kid had no idea of. In reality, that person probably wouldn't even matter to him. In Tommy's eyes, Lint was "Zero, professional wrestler from fWo." And in that came compliance with how the boundaries of people's opinions of others formed. His signature must bare the same persona that filled the child's imagination. So, with a slight modification, he fixed the L into a Z and finished it out with the ero. Finishing it, he placed the pen on the table in front of him. "There you go," he said.

         Tommy pulled the shirt some to see the signature of "Zero" embedded into the fabric. He turned around to show his dad. His dad smiled at the signature, but spoke to Lint. "I want to thank you. You just capped off what has became the night of his life." He smiled.

         Lint extended his hand towards the father. Shaking, he said, "Not a problem. Thank you for coming out tonight." He then lowered his hand to shake with Tommy, the young son. "Now you have something to show your friends." He nodded to the signature that he had just written.

         Tommy giggled as his mind and body was still in the awestruck manner in which it was when he had first spoken with Lint. His father placed his hands on Tommy's shoulders. "Ok son, I think we need to go ahead and leave now so he can eat. Thank him for the autograph."

         "Thank you!" Tommy smiled at Lint, then looked back down at the autograph on his shirt.

         From above him, the father spoke again. "Again, we're sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you for taking the time out, though," he said. With that, the two turned to walk back over to the exit to meet up with the mother.

         "Nice to meet you," responded Lint. He watched for a moment as the two made their way outside and towards their vehicle. Tommy waved goodbye, then quickly turned back around to speak up to his parents. With his mannerisms, he repeatedly referred to his autograph on his shirt.

         Seeing them leave, Lint turned back around and picked the phone up to continue his conversation. "I'm sorry about that. I…" He paused. "I was just noticed as being a wrestler." It didn't happen that often to him. Many wrestlers would talk of the many times that fans would come up to them. They spoke about the times as if they were common and routine. Lint questioned if that was the truth, or if some of these stories could be filed under the usual locker room talk that people do to puff their own ego.

         The woman on the other end laughed. "Well, don't you feel like the superstar now," she said. "I could hear the conversation while you were away."

         "Oh, that's me alright," he said sarcastically. "Zero the Hero." It did feel good to help shine more light on that boy's day, though. "But wrestling or no wrestling, I do know one thing…"

         The woman on the other line paused. Sensing that he wasn't going to reply until she answered with something, she replied. "What's that?"

         Seeing his food being put on a plate and about to be brought over to him, Lint completed the message with a sincere tone. "I'll be coming home tomorrow, Erica."