somebody, and sometimes even that's not enough."
Frank nodded. "I understand."
"No, you don't. It's a whole different world, and don't nobody know what really goes on in it unless you're there. Of course, it's changed a lot since I worked it. In my day it was easier. There weren't more than four or five guys in the whole country you had to deal with back then. That all changed a couple years ago when the big boys started running wrestling like a fucking cartoon instead of a sport. All this marketing and sales bullshit - fuck that. I packed fans in from here to the Canadian border, Frank, and you know what sold the tickets? Heat, rivalries between the guys. I sold the sport on what went on inside the ring, not all this comic book shit they're doing nowadays. It's all hype, Frank. They spend more time screaming and yelling, doing interviews and selling toys than they do working. Most of these stiffs in the game couldn't hold a fucking candle to the boys I worked with. I'm talking real headliners, guys who knew how to work. Guys who knew how to keep their mouths shut."
"How should I approach Rain?" Frank asked.
Paulie scratched his crotch. "Tell me what you know."
"I graduated from school in Boston in 1981. I learned the broadcasting and promotions business, worked in radio for a couple of years - "
"Doing what?"
"Promotional sales. The money sucked and job security was even worse. I wanted to try and get in on the ground floor with one of the big event promotions or talent-booking firms in New York or Los Angeles, but I was newly married and my wife didn't want to move. Needless to say, that didn't leave me a hell of a lot of options."
"Broads - always the fucking problem - and wives are the worst. Pain the nuts."
Frank forced a bit of laughter. "I had to find something steady that paid decent, so I took a retail sales job. I'm still there, only I'm assistant manager now."
"What do you sell?"
"White goods."
Paulie frowned. "Sheets and pillows, shit like that?"
"No, no. Refrigerators, stoves, dishwashers. I work at Appliance Mart over in Fairhaven."
Paulie seemed unimpressed, and Frank didn't blame him. He sat quietly smoking his cigar for a few minutes then asked, "You do anything else?"
"I get in on a scam now and then for extra cash," Frank admitted, "but nothing serious."
"Ever been pinched?"
"Not as an adult."
"What'd they get you for as a minor?"
"Assault and battery. Twice."
Paulie laughed. "Got a temper, huh?"
"I'm mellowing."
"Why you wanna get involved in wrestling, Frank? Why not music or boxing or something else?"
"I always loved wrestling, used to watch it all the time up until a few years ago."
"Christ, don't ever say that to nobody else. Makes you sound like a mark."
"Sorry, I - "
"Don't be sorry, just watch what you say is what I'm trying to tell you."
"Between you and me, Paulie, I don't want to spend the rest of my life selling stoves to housewives, you know what I'm saying? Maybe if I can make a few moves and get in with the right people I can turn things around."
Paulie considered what Frank had said before responding. "Does your old man know about this?"
"Does it matter?"
"I guess not." He sighed. "It's just that I always liked your father, Frank, and I wouldn't wanna do anything to make him think less of me."
Frank wasn't sure that was possible.
"With all due respect, Paulie, I'm a grown man."
"Which makes me one dried up old fuck," he said with a laugh. "Okay, kid, we'll leave him out of it."
"Good. Now, when I meet with Rain, should I be honest with him?"
"Hell no." Paulie sipped his coffee. "You got to understand something. Except for a handful of guys, everybody in the business acts like they're