Hell On Wheels

So last Saturday a few friends and I made another appearance at an L.A. Derby Dolls match?... bout?... event. This time was way better than the previous. A short list of the original exhibitions pitfalls follows.

1. The first one was during the day.
2. It was around 100 degrees out or more.
3. There was no shade.
4. The track was a taped off asphault, basketball court at the Y.
5. They had Hippy McFolksinger as the band.
6. I wasn't feeling well even before Hippy McFolksinger started playing.

Now the reasons(at least a few) why this one was way better.

1. Night time.
2. Indoors.
3. Banked, wooden track.
4. No Hippy McFolksinger. In fact the band that played, The Randies I think, was actually really fucking good.
5. Did I mention it was a banked, wooden track?

So none of us knew exactly where we were going. All we really knew, or at least thought we knew, was that it was down in Japantown somewhere and that we didn't want to drive there. So we called a cab and headed out the door around 6PM. The doors were opening at 6:30 and Pasadena isn't that far from downtown L.A. We arrived in downtown and then started heading for 3rd and Alameda, but we missed the left turn on 3rd and continued on to 6th or something and then headed east. We started to pass through some not so inviting areas. Turns out we were smack in the middle of skid row. At this point we weren't even sure we'd be able to get a cab home.

We finally hit Alameda and turned left. A few short blocks later and we arrived at the Little Tokyo Shopping Center that incidentally is actually a few blocks away from Japantown. We were instantly reassured about the neighborhood by the presence of the cops parked outside and the surrounding tent city. Any thoughts about future transportation were immediately abandoned as we headed inside.

First floor, chop sticks, soup bowls and assorted asian stuff was arrayed out on a number of fold up tables. Bypassing that we followed the "Derby Dolls This Way" signs to the top floor. After signing the obligatory waiver that we wouldn't hold them liable for flying off the track and killing us we were in. The Chinese Jet Pilot and myself had purchased VIP passes online and after checking in and getting our flaming pink wrist bands and stainless steel Derby Dolls flasks we went inside and waited for Fancy Pants and Mr. Kimono to buy their standard, peon tickets.

Turns out it was a good thing the CJP and I went the VIP route as we had instant access to the full(except for cups) bar while the lowly peons had to wait for the cooler outside to be filled. We got our drinks. Since the cups had yet to arrive we had them put into our shiny new flasks. Yay VIP! Next stop, the track.

It was still early and no one had as yet really staked out any spots at the track. So we did. We were right at the track on the exit of the first turn. Great spot. Luckily I was able to see over the edge of the track. That view is the only picture I took. With my phone. Because I forgot my camera. Dumbass. Next time for sure. The picture is up at flickr for what it's worth.

The bout finally started and after about the third jam the captain for the Tough Cookies bailed off the track and it looked really grim. The EMTs on site pulled out the back board and the place was silent. Better safe than sorry and what seemed really terrible turned out to be not so bad. Turns out she just knocked herself a bit silly while wrapping herself around one of the rail posts. She sat a bit and not long after returned to the line up. Turns out Iron Mayven is one tough chick. There was another fifteen minutes of racing, blocking and falling followed by half time.

The half time show was a hula hoop striptease done by the prettiest boy I think I've ever seen. Sure fooled me until the clothes came off. Oops! The second half continued where the first left off. There was another bit of excitement when Jihad was pushed off the track and dislocated her shoulder. The onsite medical staff knocked it back and I'm sure told her to head off to see a doctor ASAP. Another tough chick. The bout ended with the Fight Crew spanking the Tough Cookies by some ridiculous score.

Not wanting to stick around too late with no guaranteed way home we immediately started looking for a cab. After a few calls and a phone number from a random stranger we were told to expect a cab. Sometime. No time estimate was given. So we waited. Then waited a bit more. Things got a bit tense when crazy, drunk lady decided to almost walk in front of a speeding bus. After dodging the bus it seemed she was heading our way. Fortunately she dodged, ducked, dipped, dived and dodged past on the other side of the street. Shortly thereafter the cab showed up and we were on our way home. Turns out where we were is only about three blocks from Union Station. We may just have to take the Gold Line there and back next time. Certainly cheaper than the cab rides there and back.

Can't wait for next time.