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When Flair shook my hand, I noticed two things:

1. He was immaculately dressed in an expensive suit and tie.

2. He had a huge schnozz that looked like a plantain stuck in the middle of his face.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Why he was calling me sir, I had no idea.

I was happy just to be talking to him, but when he said, “Let me give you my phone number. Give me a call, and maybe we can arrange a tryout for you,” I was gob-smacked! An invitation to the big time! Even though it wasn’t the WWF, I wasn’t going to take it lightly.

I carried Flair’s number in my pocket for days, asking myself the same question I’d ask if I’d gotten a phone number from a pretty girl.

How long do I wait before I make the call? One day? One week?

Getting a job was more important than getting laid and I had to weigh the factors much more diligently. I finally decided to call two days later.

That gave Ric a day to recuperate from his travels and another day to settle into his office. I didn’t want to wait too much longer because I was pretty sure he was waiting for my call. I dialed the number on the paper and when a female voice answered, I turned on the Jeri-Charm (taken verbatim from the actual call):

“Hello, can I speak to Mr. Flair, please?”

“Who’s speaking?”

“This is Lion Heart Chris Jericho. The Nature Boy is expecting my call.”

“Okay.”

“He’s expecting my call.”

“Yes, you said that Mr....umm...Heart. Hold on, please.”

I waited on the line for a while. She came back and said, “Ric is in Aruba right now.”

“Oh. Well, when should I call back?”

“He should be back in about a week or so. He’s on vacation. So just leave your number and I’ll have him call you back.”

I wanted to stall a bit longer and really win over Ric’s secretary with my charisma.

“Aruba huh? Where is that? Maybe I should fly the both of us over there and we can meet up with Ric? Ha ha.”

While it was obvious that she was enamored with my suggestion, she covered it up by stoically saying, “Ric will call you.”

I thought it was a little strange that Flair’s personal secretary had to put me on hold to find out that her boss was in Aruba. It was almost as if she’d lied to me, but I knew THAT would never happen. Nevertheless I didn’t let it discourage me and I called her back one week later to the day.

“Hi, this is Chris Jericho. Can I speak to Ric please? I spoke with you last week and you told me to call you back.”

For some reason she acted like she didn’t remember my rapier wit and said, “No, I said he’d call you when he came back from vacation. He’s still in Aruba.”

On it went.

“He’s extended his stay for another week.”

“He’s back from Aruba, but he’s in Charlotte now.”

“He’s washing his hair.”

“A dog ate his homework.”

I finally got the hint, but I couldn’t figure out why he’d given me his number in the first place. It was another fine lesson about the world of wrestling.

So I was 0-for-2 in landing a spot with one of the big companies in the States and I felt like shit because I’d come to Tennessee with the hopes of springboarding into the big leagues. Instead, I’d springboarded into the same high school gyms that I’d already worked in Canada.

The situation was complicated further when I got a call from the Japanese company WAR, asking me to come work for them full-time. I’d already done a few tours with them and had impressed them enough that they wanted me to work for them on a monthly basis.

But if I took the gig it would cause a huge problem. Smoky recorded four weeks of TV in one shot, so if I missed one TV taping I wouldn’t be able to be involved in any of the angles or shows for an entire month.

The next WAR tour took place during the next SMW taping so I knew there was no way I could work in both companies. I agonized over the decision for days but in the end there was no way I could turn down a regular gig in Japan. I’d based my career path on Chris Benoit’s and after he made a huge name for himself in Japan, he’d gotten a job with WCW. If working in SMW wasn’t going to get me to the big leagues, then maybe working in the respected environment