I have a similar story.
It's 2004. The Royal Rumble is in town, and friends of mine got tickets. They needed someone to fill seats, so I'm fucking THERE, man.
We take Septa downtown, because how else do you travel? I make up my signs on the train ("I Made My Sign On Septa") and we depart a smooth 90 minutes prior to opening bells. My party decides we should eat dinner first, so we head off in the opposite direction to find some grub. We're all holding signs, wearing shirts, you name it.
Someone yells at us from the third lane downtown. "Y'all know where you're goin'?" comes the questions, in a southern enough accent.
"Yeah! The Spectrum's just a block that way!" yells the leader of our party, gesturing towards the Wachovia Center. We never did unlearn the Core States Spectrum.
"Alright! Jus' checkin'! Didn't want you missin' the show!" The yeller-guy spoke and rolled the window up on his truck. The light changes, and traffic departs.
We make it about 30 seconds before we piece things together.
"That guy was bald, right?"
"He was in a truck, yeah?"
"That accent was Texan, wasn't it?"
And then we all realized motherfucking STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIIN was making sure we knew where the stadium was.
It's 2004. The Royal Rumble is in town, and friends of mine got tickets. They needed someone to fill seats, so I'm fucking THERE, man.
We take Septa downtown, because how else do you travel? I make up my signs on the train ("I Made My Sign On Septa") and we depart a smooth 90 minutes prior to opening bells. My party decides we should eat dinner first, so we head off in the opposite direction to find some grub. We're all holding signs, wearing shirts, you name it.
Someone yells at us from the third lane downtown. "Y'all know where you're goin'?" comes the questions, in a southern enough accent.
"Yeah! The Spectrum's just a block that way!" yells the leader of our party, gesturing towards the Wachovia Center. We never did unlearn the Core States Spectrum.
"Alright! Jus' checkin'! Didn't want you missin' the show!" The yeller-guy spoke and rolled the window up on his truck. The light changes, and traffic departs.
We make it about 30 seconds before we piece things together.
"That guy was bald, right?"
"He was in a truck, yeah?"
"That accent was Texan, wasn't it?"
And then we all realized motherfucking STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIIN was making sure we knew where the stadium was.
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
