Stupid Dummies

Because I'm finally going back to Canada after such a long absense, I thought another way to commemorate the historic event is by going back in time to the last time I was in Canada, which was on St. Patrick's Day, March 17, 2002, the night of WrestleMania X-8.

It was freshman year of college, and Pat, Brett, and I were heading to Toronto to see Wrestlemania. I made friends with Brett and Pat because we're all wrestling fans and semi-degenerate gamblers. There were other wrestling fans around, but we were the only freaks there who remembered watching Warrior beat Hogan at Wrestlemania VI, which at the time was the biggest thing that ever happened. WM 6 took place at Skydome in Toronto, and coincidentally, the next Wrestlemania was being held at the Skydome. We decided early in the year that we were definitely going. This was maybe 6 months before the event and we had all our plans ready. Nowadays, we make plans two or three days before we actually go. Our conversations go like this.

Brett: Hey, you wanna go to a show?
Me: Where and when?
Brett: Delaware, and in a couple of hours.
Me: OK, I'm in.

We were more efficient at planning things back then.

On WM weekend, the plan was to fly to Rochester, where Brett is from, hang out on Friday, then go to an Indian Casino that he lives near on Saturday, and drive to Toronto on Wrestlemania Sunday. At the casino, I managed to walk away up around $30-40, good enough to get a T-Shirt and food/drinks at the event, but everyone else ended up losing money. We probably would've stayed there all weekend, so we all could've ended up getting way into the red and be forced to quit school and sell crack, but we had Wrestlemania to go to.

We drove up early on Sunday morning to Toronto, so we could walk around the city and make fun of Canadians. My favorite moment, though, was when we stopped in a cigar store to buy Cubans. I didn't know how the exchange worked, so I just paid with a $50, and the cashier hands me back a thick wad of Canadian dollar bills. It was probably worth only $5 American, but I felt like Tony Soprano getting his cut from the Webistics pump and dump scam.

I don't remember much of Wrestlemania, except the Hogan-Rock match, hyped as the past of sports entertainment vs. the future of sports entertainment. Only the crowd just completely shit on The Rock (who was the most popular superstar at the time) and cheered every move Hogan (who had been pretty much a non-entity in wrestling after a disasterous final WCW run) made. I've been to maybe 50 wrestling events and a ton of Yankee/Mets/Knicks (when they were still decent)/Rangers games, and I've never seen or heard a crowd respond like they did (RVD and John Cena at ECW One Night Stand had the same energy, but that was a small crowd of maybe 5,000. This was 69,000 strong) Now Hogan is beating Randy Orton with an injured knee, while Rock quit the business to do Friday Night Lights Part II. It's funny how things work out.



Afterwards, we walked around a little, and then decided to head back to Rochester because we had to catch the plane in the morning. I don't remember what time the flight was, but I know it was early enough that we weren't going to be much sleep. Basically, we would be on the road all night, maybe get a couple hours of sleep and then head back to the airport.

Which made it ridiculous when we decided to go to the Casino Niagara.

We were driving on the highway when we saw a bus that said CASINO NIAGARA on it. Pat is the biggest gambler out of all of us, so I think he was the first person to suggest that we follow it. Next thing I know, we're following a bus into a hotel, where it was picking up a bunch of old people, and we're getting on the bus. We were the youngest people there by like 50 years. I imagine that this is what death is like, riding in a bus full of old people, heading straight to hell (or heaven, if you're a good person and stuff).

We got to the casino, and because we weren't old enough to get into a real casino (at Indian Casinos you can be 18 and gamble), we used our fake IDs. In hindsight, that was really dumb, but we're not very smart and we'd soon be reminded of it. We walked into the casino and next thing I know, a cop (referred to from here on out as Pierre the Mountie) walks up to us.

Pierre the Mountie: Hey buddy, can I see yoooour ID, eh?

Another guy, the manager I guess (referred to from here on as Jacques the Manager), walked up alongside Pierre the Mountie, and so did the guy who looked at our fake IDs. We handed him our IDs, and Pierre the Mountie and Jacques the Manager grilled them over, then went and scanned them through some device. Obviously, the results came back negative.

Jacques the Manager: Yooou thiiink yoooou can just wallllk in 'ere with a faaake ID, buddy? Give me yooooour real IDs, eh.

So we handed him our real IDs.

Pierre the Mountie: Eh, looks like we got ourselves some underage kids trying to sneak in, buddy? That's real dumb, eh.

Jacques the Manager: We got some real stoooopid dummies here, buddy.

Pierre the Mountie: We do, eh. Yoooou dummies are in big trouble, eh.

I was pretty nervous, I'd never gotten caught with a fake ID, but I figured that it wasn't good to use it in a foreign land, especially since this was only about 7 months after 9/11. But all they did was write our information down, take our pictures, and handed us a fine for about $300 Canadian, which is like 10 cents American. That was a relief.

We got escorted out by Pierre the Mountie, who gave us a stern warning as we left.

Pierre the Mountie: I don't want to see you guys here again, you stoooopid dummies. You big stooopid dummies. Don't ever come back here, stooopid dummies.

Jacques the Manager: Eh.

Note: I did exagerrate what the manager and the cop did say earlier (in case you couldn't tell), and some details of the trip might be a little off because it was four and a half years ago and I'm probably leaving out a lot, but I swear on my mother, that's what Pierre the Mountie said to us as we were leaving the casino. You can't forget something like that. And as we're walking, he kept yelling at us. I don't know if anyone can fully appreciate how funny it was. We threw the fines out the window on the bus, which wasn't smart because they mailed another fine a couple months later, warning that charges will be pressed if we don't pay. I paid the fine (which is another funny story, but this has gone on for long enough) and Brett did too, but Pat didn't, so he might actually be banned from Canada.

We got back in enough time to get some sleep and catch our flight. When we got back to the dorms, we walked in and there were beer cans everywhere and random people sleeping on the couch. It was that kind of weekend.

It was an eventful trip. Hopefully, if we get kicked out of another casino in Montreal, Pierre the Mountie will be there. There should be superhero movies made based on him.



Fun fact #4, I used the name Terry Bollea (Hulk Hogan's real name) for my second fake ID to commemorate the trip, which I promptly lost on the subway a couple weeks later. Somewhere, Pierre the Mountie was laughing, and calling me a stupid dummy.