Day Nine: I Just Don't Have the Flair

Some professional wrestling fans might remember a wrestler named Ric Flair. Ric was also known as "The Nature Boy" in the ring, but I don't remember why. It couldn't have been his appearance which was anything but natural. Bleach blond hair, a tan that would make George Hamilton jealous, and flamboyant outfits in the ring and out. Flair is one of the most recognized professional wrestlers in the world. He also happens to live in Charlotte, NC.

It's not a huge town and we live and play in the same general neighborhoods so I see him. I see him at the grocery (he flirted with me in the parking lot there once) and I see him at the nicer restaurants and most recently at the sports bar where I watched an NFL game. That particular day I also found out from a friend that Flair often buys dinner for whoever happens to be eating next to him and one night he bought not only her dinner, but an hour of conversation to the tune of $300. She talked to him and more importantly, let him talk and he was so grateful that he paid her $300.

I wouldn't have taken the money myself, though I need it desperately, but it just seems too . . . sad and icky, for lack of a better word. That same day when Flair showed up at football he sat at a table with this friend of mine and about four other people. The table grew in size to closer to ten and when the bill came, Flair paid. He then showed the receipt to neighboring tables and it was about 18 inches long. They all let him pay for the drinks and food they'd ordered for four hours and I didn't read a lot of gratitude on their faces in the process.

There's not much of a point to this, except that it saddened and angered me a bit. Ric Flair isn't Nature Boy anymore and he may not have the fortune he once had, but he still has legions of fans. He's a celebrity here in Charlotte and people never tire of letting him buy them things. I'm sure he's told all his stories a thousand times and probably feels like no one wants to hear them anymore, so instead he buys their time and they let him. In a town like Charlotte where money makes the man, you can buy a lot of friends and there is always someone willing to be bought.

I'd be interested in hearing his stories, but more importantly, I'd like to ask those greedy parasites if any of them ever thought about buying his dinner or drinks. Seeing him and knowing how others let him spend whatever money he has left on their good times makes me wonder if we all end up that way somehow? When all of our stories have been told and our money made, who will we be? If Flair stopped buying things would he still have so many friends? I hope so, but it does depress me when I see him out and wonder if we're all destined to be either the bought or the buyer.