Heels at Heart
"We Hate Amy"

May 12, 2011
Originally posted March 25, 2003

As most of you should know by now, I travel with Christian every week. We have, like most travel partners do, become like an old married couple. We bitch and complain about each other to no end. I bug him about being an inconsiderate, ugly bastard who can’t work, and with the exception of the “can’t work” part that’s pretty much accurate. He on the other hand complains, with about the same level of accuracy, that I’m a boring, ugly bastard, who can’t work. On a few occasions we actually agree and see eye to eye. Last weekend was one of those instances.

I think the problem lies in the fact that we are both heels at heart. When we are alone we have no one to heel on but each other. When there is someone else to aim our verbal venom at we jump on the chance to team up and be vicious heels. Last week whilst driving from St. Louis to Columbia, MO we had such an opportunity.

Christian was driving and as we approach a mini van he looks at me and says, “How do you think they feel about Amy?” I look up and see that the people in question have “WE LOVE AMY” painted on the back of their van in large bold letters. There is a big pink heart, the whole nine yards. I look at Christian and reply, “I’ll go out on a limb here and say their pretty fond of her.” We chuckle to ourselves about the absurdity of painting such a message on your vehicle, when Christian has the brainstorm, “I wish we had a “WE HATE AMY” sign we could hold up.”

Now that Christian has put the ball in play, I grab it and head for the end zone. I had just pulled my booking sheet out to check for the name of the building in Columbia so I say to Christian, “I’ve got my booking sheet and a Sharpie marker. Let’s make the sign.” I grab my booking sheet, flip it over and pull out the sharpie. I write “WE HATE AMY!!” in large bold letters and tell Christian to pull up beside them. Neither of us had a clue who Amy was but if they saw fit to boast their affection, we could not in good conscience, as heels, pass up this opportunity to voice a contrary opinion.

Just as we are pulling up on them, Christian hits the breaks and looks at me. “What?” I ask him. “What if Amy is a local sick kid?” he asks. Damn, even as heels we don’t want to heel on a sick kid, especially if these people are her parents and she is in ICU somewhere. At this point I notice there is some writing on the side of the van as well. I tell Christian to pull up a bit, maybe there will say something on the side like, “Go for the Gold” or something, which would give us a clue as to who Amy is. If she’s a local athlete, the gloves are off.

Christian pulls along side and I read, “Nashville Stars…vote for Amy”. There’s no way she’s a sick kid. Christian then remembers that he flipped by “Nashville Stars” on TV last week. He tells me that it’s a Nashville Country Music show like “American Idol”. At this point we both get a diabolical smile and Christian hits the gas as I put our sign up against my window. We hold steady beside the van waiting for its two occupants to notice our sign. Finally the passenger turns our way and starts frantically pointing our sign out to the driver. Christian hits the gas and pulls ahead as we both triumphantly laugh at our public display of hatred for a person we don’t even know.

It’s amazing the lengths you’ll go to, on the road, to amuse yourselves.

Till next week, don’t vote for Amy. I want her doing a bigger job than Christian on “I -HEAT”!

Lance Storm

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