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My girlfriend had run into hard times; she had lost her job as manager of KFC and her wrestling school had been closed down which left her bereft of any income. I tried to support her but my minimum wage job wasn't enough to feed us both not to mention high gas prices so she started doing these real seedy backyard wrestling matches for money.

I accompanied her, driving Jenny to and from matches. Everyone called me her boy toy since Jenny was 44 at the time and I was 22; she was a cougar before the term was popular. Her first fight was in this trailer park populated entirely by Mexicans in Newark, DE. It was like entering a third world country and their "ring" was nothing but a nylon tarp a bunch of wooden pallets bound together with twine. There were no actual ropes at all; the crowd acted as them in their place. It was late by the time I found the place and the first match I watched had one woman whipping her female opponent into the crowd. They caught the offending girl-who already had blood trickling down her face from a gash in her forehead-and, in tandem, almost like they were doing the wave, the crowd of Hispanics shoved the bloody girl back as the other woman "bounced" off the audience on the other side and brought the beaten girl down with a flying leg lariat.

"Uno!...Dos!...Tres!" everyone yelled as the girl was pinned.

I swear to god immediately after, like it was her theme music, a freakin mariachi band started playing. Whether they were recorded or live I'll never be sure since it was a sea of bodies shoving against one another to lift the victorious fighter while a few dragged the loser off to parts unknown.

They been dressed like pro wrestlers, wearing the sparkly one piece swimsuits, flesh toned pantyhose with lace up boots. I was a little discouraged when I saw some children running around a few moments later carrying the same boots as the loser had on, like they were trophies. Two ninos were having a tug of war over one while one older man had the girls one piece draped over his shoulder before lifting it in the air like it was a flag.

Jenny's match was next and I was worried for her. She said it paid five hundred bucks, and we needed the money badly, but given the circumstances I was still very nervous since it required a deposit of the same amount, so you basically double your money if you win, and get nothing if you lose.

"So what happens if you don't win?" I asked, trying to be logical but I should've known better than to be that around a woman.

"What? You don't think I can win?" Jenny asked with a stern look on her face. And like every cliche sitcom trope I immediately tried to apologize but a loud trumpet, probably from that unseen band, broke the din of the crowd and everyone parted like the Red Sea as Jenny's opponent came out like their Moses.

She was a tough looking woman wearing a red one piece, with gold Spanish lettering, and matching red