By Jeremy Maes, DEJ Audio Experience Member

So things get off to a rousing start Friday. Mel and I are lounging in our cozy hotel room watching the great “Steve Wilkos Show” with the belief that checkout is noon. Well, as it turns out, that checkout is actually 11:00 and it is 10:15. She rushes in to the shower while I pack up our clothes like the police are coming to raid the room. Looking back, it was quite comical as we had plenty of time but to get ready in a clam and orderly fashion, but we had to be out at 11:00 and not a minute sooner. See, here’s the thing. We checked out over the television. All we had to do was check out and leisurely go about things and leave when we felt like it. It turns out our panicked check out of the Double Tree hotel was going to be an omen for the entire weekend. It was going to be chaotic, frustrating and inevitably ridiculous.

See, the plan all along was that we would check out, grab lunch, and then go pick up Eric at the airport. He was scheduled to arrive at 1:45 or around that time, but I had received a text message saying he was delayed because the planes computer crashed. Turns out when an airplanes fuel filter is clogged, the computer freaks and they won’t let you fly. So Eric’s flight was scheduled for later and that left Mel and I plenty of time to check in at The MetroExpress at 3:00 just in time for Kevin and Emily to arrive.

So we grab lunch at The Orlando Ale House (much recommended) and head across town for some supplies when Kevin calls at 1:30 saying they are in town. The guy who is never on time is freakin early. So we go to check in early since we get back to the hotel and meet them about 2:30. Turns out the check out time is 4:00. So we make small talk and decide to drive to the airport and get Eric. We reason if we leave early if we get lost we can still get there in time. Of course, we get to the airport in plenty of time and decide to park.

Stuck in this dusty gold Dodge Magnum we circle the airport twice and then decide to go into the parking garage. No sooner do we grab the ticket and enter the third floor does Eric call and say he is there on Level 3, whatever that means. So I hang up the cell and told Kevin to head back on out. So in the course of ten minutes this obscene car has cruised the airport twice, driven through the parking garage once, and then parks in front of the arrival doors for fifteen minutes. We all agreed that the Dodge Magnum and Kevin’s face are now on some secret CIA or FBI list.

So we all cram back in the car and start catching up after a year of not actually seeing each other and the mood is definitely good. We have a bunch of stuff planned for the weekend for the show and spirits were definitely high.

We get back to the hotel and we are finally able to check in and the information desk catches our ear with the promise of a gift of $75 cash. We humor him and almost instantly the reaction is no. We would have to wake up early and drive around somewhere on a golf cart. Eric considered it, but when it is explained we would have to wake up early he quickly changed his mind. Seriously, we are already shelling out money and are technically on vacation. The idea that we are being bothered with this garbage knowing it is high-pressure sales and will undoubtedly cause annoyance is just plain frustrating. He did give us a good tip on the local bar situation, which we planned on checking out. He gave us the name of a local karaoke pub and everyone’s eyes lit up but Kevin who just had a stunned look on his face. After figuring out we were serious, he just sort of stewed and finally accepted his fate.

So, not too long after we headed out for the ROH show but not before stopping for a bite to eat. This was supposed to be our opportunity to try our first “on location” recording of the weekend. We walked across International Drive to the local Bennigan’s. I had never been to the place before, but Butters loves the place so can't it be all that bad.

The answer is yes, it can be that bad. This was one crummy, run down, dark place that happy souls go to vacate the body. They have the entire restaurant to place us in and they sat us in the middle of the floor with a bunch of angry looking table full of tourists. After ten minutes we finally got our drink order in and then another 15 minutes alter we get to order. Our waiter tries impressing us saying, “Sorry folks, I had a major problem to handle.” He was clearly trying to get us to ask what the problem was, but we just wanted this dummy to take our orders and feed us so we aren’t late for the show.

So we put our order in and the time seemed right to try out the live audio. Keeping with the theme of the weekend kids start yelling, one of the family tables asks for the manager, and it becomes loud. There were five tables of people in this place and they are causing noise like a jet plane. I just put the camera away and decided that we will do an extra show Saturday where we can control the environment. Everyone agreed and we when we got the food we hogged down some American cuisine or whatever they served us.

We got back in "Big Pimpin" and hit International Drive at 7:15. The ride from the hotel to The Greater Orlando Downtown Recreational Center (whew) is about seven miles of driving down I-4 East. At 7:45 we finally made it to the end of International Drive and arrived at ROH as Nigel McGuiness was in the ring cutting a promo.

One quick glance and it was obvious ROH did decent in ticket sales as the bleachers looked near capacity. The idea of getting a middle seat was fleeting and we quickly found our way to the side of the center and some damn good seats.

Sure, for $20 more we could have gotten floor seats or possibly ringside, but you can’t beat a cheap ticket price and a helluva view. We were not obstructed by any support beams, there was no one in front of us I could not see over, and (more importantly) no damn signs. We were then treated to a near three-hour show of solid action, terrible acoustics (seriously, when is this going to improve?), and long lines at the men's room. Mel commented that she had never been to an event before where the women's room had no line, but the men's did. She already knew my response, so she didn’t pay attention when I cracked a joke about getting slobbered on both to and from the women's room.

Mel continually commented and asked me about the Dragon's Gate wrestlers and it became increasingly awkward not answering her. See, as I touched on in the first ROH audio show, I cannot pronounce foreign names. I get so damn tongued-tied I inevitably butcher the name beyond any close resemblance to the actual name. I constantly received poor grades in foreign language classes because I just stunk up the exercise when we had to speak. I just cannot do it. If that doesn’t help, listen to our PWTorch VIP Audio Show. I can barley speak the American language, let alone foreign language.

One noticeable thing during the ROH show was the attention to detail and the realism of the matches involving Roderick Strong. How many times have there been matches where the opponents' shoulders are clearly down as the referee is counting to three. Eventually someone interferes and instead of counting to three the referee stops counting. Roderick Strong actually breaks up a pin attempt in a logical manner.

Whenever he had to break up a pin he would pull the top man out of the pin attempt. He also would push the guy off if needed, but it was one act that really caught my eye as well as Eric's. On multiple instances Roderick actually put his shoulder into the person being pinned and raised their shoulder off the ground, making the referee stop the count. In all of the WWE and TNA matches that have been on air in the last few years, I do not recall seeing this tactic. I clearly remember bitching about the referee stopping when shoulders are clearly down but never, ever have I witnessed this. It is a small thing but it is important. It plays in to the unspoken rules of wrestling and it needed to be mentioned.

So we get back to the show and decide we will record the audio in the same way that we did the show after WrestleMania 23 last year. We have the video camera and we are off and rolling. The first five minutes were a mess as we have a bunch of different voices and we actually had to look at each other while doing it. After doing so many shows without looking at each other, the entire exercise is incredibly awkward. Plus, we are cramped in "Big Pimpin" while trying to follow the Garmin GPS so we don’t end up in Cape Canaveral.

Unlike last year where we stuck in traffic and did the majority of the show from a parking lot in downtown Detroit, we got moving almost immediately and ended up back at the hotel about half way through the show. So we finished up in the hotel room and then it was time to hit O'Shucks.

We decided that being responsible would be the best idea for not only the safety of others, but for the good of this trip so we took the half mile walk down International Drive. Now I am not claiming we are heroes or warriors for walking that distance to a bar, but we do feel better about ourselves.

After a grueling walk in the lower 70 degree weather, we tumble in to a dark pub with a decent crowd and a loud karaoke singer. Kevin and I cozied on up to the bar as the rest of the crew grabbed a seat and the weekend was underway officially. By this time it was just before midnight and the TNA tapings were long over.

As I stood at the bar getting a round of Jager shots, I noticed two fellows who looked extremely familiar. Turns out they were part of the TNA crew. Like any good person would do, I left them alone as one of them was hogging the conversation and clearly venting about something to the other. Well, he could have just been animated since the music was a bit on the loud side.

When I sat back down I shared this info with the crew and went about our business. Later we saw some wrestlers walk in accompanied by some real knockouts.

It takes a special kind of people to observe other people from a distance, but alcohol and loud music make it an easy task. Seeing people stare at the television when one of their co-workers appears can be downright funny. When the stare continues and reaches uncomfortable levels it becomes downright hilarious.

We all agreed not to bother any of them, but there was a nagging feeling we should at least introduce ourselves. The idea behind it was to throw out the show name but leave the Torch name out of it since, well, really, we are associated with the Torch and not the other way around.

So after many trips back and forth with shots and beers on the return trips we had enough liquid courage we decide to at least approach some of them and say hello. It also helped that their group was starting to split up and go different parts of the bar or heading outside. We saw this as a sign and walked, apprehensively, towards their direction.

Now look, I hate meeting people. I am awkward and just ridiculous in my mannerisms and words if I decide to talk. Once I know someone, I am fine, but the entire idea of meeting strangers is terrifying and I am 34 years old. If I have not gotten better about this, I never will. So introducing myself to total strangers who are probably bothered by fanboys all the time made my anxiety all the worse.

Fortunately for this tale, Eric has no such reservations. He walked right up and after a brief moment of indecision he interrupted a wrestler trying, it appeared, to hook up with someone for the night. Being acutely aware of my surroundings, in a strange moment of clarity, it is apparent we are about to interfere and out us squarely in the fanboy hall of fame.

"Hey, I'm Eric," shakes hand, "Big fan we are here to take to them but just wanted to say hey." All the while he gets a blank stare back for his troubles and then a... "Oh, alright, cool."

"Hey, I'm Jeremy, big fan as well." If the music hadn’t been so loud you could have heard me beating myself up internally for being such a douche.

"Oh alright, cool." He immediately turns his attention away form us and goes back to his conversation and then ends up leaving the area.

Eric and I then turn up the stalker quotient and stand idly by while the person we want to talk to is in conversation with their friend. We stand around for what seems like thirty minutes waiting for a nice break to occur so we could butt our dumbasses in to their business. So while we waited, we one of them became aware of our intentions and did the irritated avert the eyes and mumble move you see at every college bar in America. While the better part of me was screaming inside to flee, this thought was not reaching my feet.

We finally got around to interrupting and introduced ourselves. Pretty sure we mentioned the Torch and our show even if we did not intend to do so. After getting through the awkward start of any conversation we settled in to a spirited and, in depth talk about wrestling, the industry, and their place in it. I was shocked not just by the fact that they were so open and willing to share, but the fact that they made no attempt to get back to their friend. See while we were talking we got the spurned friend look the entire time. Mel told me later that the friend was shooting us daggers the entire time we were talking.

It finally got around last call and that meant it was time to leave our new friend alone. It also meant we had to go grab shots again to celebrate not being totals idiots and coming off like fanboy tools. Okay, gotta back up a second, we probably did come off like tools, but we did it in a smooth way. That is how I feel about it and the memory I am taking from this.

Apparently while Eric and I were talking the rest of the wrestlers were trying to show how tough they were by playing some games in the back room. It involved a punching bag and a sensor that recorded the force with which you hit the bag. Nothing screams more "jock" than hitting an inanimate object to measure you punching power. I guess the "Test Your Strength" machine was in the shop along with the giant mallet.

Finally, they were kicking us out of the bar promptly at 2:00 a.m. We were all officially soused and ready for some more food. We ended up stopping along the way at a portable hot dog and hamburger stand called "The After Party." The food was your typical greasy spoon fodder, but that was some delicious cuisine. Eric had the first of what would be many hot dogs covered in ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, olive oil, cheese, onions, chili, peas, and who knows what else. This very recipe would bring out a rant in Kevin, but that is for day three.

Jeremy Maes is the “J” of the DEJ Audio Experience. You can listen to that group of organized crime perpetrators every Wednesday night on the member’s portion of PWTorch.com. You can read Jeremy’s thoughts every Sunday on PWTorch.com. You can even contact Jeremy or any member of the DEJ faction on the PWTorch VIP Forum, or by email at torchmaes@yahoo.com.