We haven't run a Virgilbag in quite a while, but some excellent Virgil stories popped up on a Reddit thread earlier today. The best one is a saga involving our Wrestlemania XXX-bound protagonist staying in a hotel with Virgil—and much, much more—but go check out other anecdotes over there.
Here's the story from VirgilsCrew. The photo at the top of the post is his evidence of the encounter(s):
Long time lurker, created an account to share my Virgil story. I apologize ahead of time for the ridiculosuly long read, but a LOT happened, and I'd like to share it all. This was my Wrestlemania moment.
My buddy and I went to Wrestlemania XXX this year, but getting from Boston to New Orleans proved to be a challenge. Our flight was delayed 7 or 8 hours out of Boston, but we were scheduled to JUST make our connection in Atlanta. Lo and behold, we finally arrive at the gate in Atlanta ten minutes before takeoff and learn that Delta gave our seats away. We're pissed. But there is someone else there that was, dare I say, even more pissed. I turn to my buddy..."hey, I'm pretty sure that's Virgil."
We walk over to him and introduce ourselves and just start shooting the shit. He's super chill and laid back, and totally into chatting with us. We are told that the airline will provide us a hotel so we hop on line for that only to learn that they will not provide us a hotel. This infuriates Virgil. So now, we are faced to spending the night in the airport until the next flight at 8am the next morning. Virgil gets the bright idea - "hey, why don't we rent a car and drive to New Orleans? It's only about 8 hours." Yeah, I passed on that because I was pretty sure I'd end up paying for the car, and doing all of the driving. And I was right, because after about 2 minutes of getting settled in the airport terminal, I made a phone call and Virgil passed right the hell out (I have a photo of that to share if interested - hilarious).
As the angry passengers began to dissipate, my buddy decided to see if we could get a hotel now, while Virgil slept soundly in an uncomfortable chair. Turns out we could. It was at this moment that my friend and I made both the greatest and the worst decision of our Mania weekend...we invited Virgil to share the hotel room with us. And of course he accepted!
By the way, during our our or so killing time in the airport, we learned that in his prime, Virgil was given an open door policy to the Playboy mansion where "fucked every month of the Playboy calendar." He also mentioned that the only person who was there more often than him was a star NFL running back (I can't remember who, but I think it was Marcus Allen. I was already tuning him out at this point).
We also learned the Virgil HATES Atlanta. Like, hates it. Picture someone who just walks up to your house and just takes a steamy shit in your yard. But that's not all. Then they come into your house and flip all the furniture while pantomiming a Justin Bieber music video. But then the bastard murders your family. Then he eats a sandwich in your bed, with no regard to crumbs. How much do you hate that guy? That's pretty much how much Virgil hates Atlanta.
So, here we are, my buddy and I in a hotel room in Atlanta, just chillin out. Of course, we let Virgil have one of the two beds to himself cuz I'm not sleeping with him! He escapes for a bit to use the rest room, and this is the moment where my buddy and I finally realize what is happening. We are literally sharing a hotel room with Virgil, a wrestling legend. That's right, a legend! It was just so ridiculous it was hard to believe.
So, I slept three feet away from Virgil in some random ass hotel in Atlanta for free.
The morning rolls around, and Virgil comes with us to the airport, because he is standby on our flight. At thins point, we're so sick and tired of listening to this dude talk that we're actually hoping he doesn't get on the flight. As we're waiting, Kazarian and Christopher Daniels hop in line, as they are on our flight too. Virgil cracks jokes about how small they are (they are basically the same size as him) and tells us they will never make it in the business. Then he goes over to them and acts like he's their best friend. Way too funny. They were dicks, by the way. Then Virgil sees someone out of the corner of his eye and goes "ah shit, I thought that was Al Snow. I was about to go punch that motherfucker in the face. I hate fuckin Al Snow."
My buddy and I finally get on our plane headed to New Orleans, and as it starts filling up, guess who boards - none other than Virgil. And guess where his seat is? RIGHT BEHIND US. So now we get to listen to him talk for at least another 2 hours, and trust me, he talked alright. He keeps a stack of business cards thats probably about as thick as three decks of cards stacked together. Some notables are Sidney Crosby and Magic Johnson.
He told us the story of how Vince offered him his job with the WWE, how his partnership with Ted DiBiase came about, and tons of stories about Andre. Thanks to Virgil, I can never look at Andre the Giant the same again. He referred to Andre as the "firehose" and recounted a time when Andre took four chicks and "stacked them up like a sandwich" and went to town with his "cock fingers." Yes, Andre the Giant is no longer the same in my eyes. Nor are sandwiches.
He also performed for us his cunnilingus technique, right there on the plane. On an invisible woman.
For the love of all that is holy we finally land, and are able to free our grasp from Virgil. He asks for our phone numbers, which we actually give to him, and he calls us "the crew." That's right - me and my buddy are now a part of Virgil's "crew," hence the username. We quickly depart, before Virgil gets the idea to crash our hotel room.
So - you'd think that's the end of this tale, wouldn't you? We certainly did. But alas, it was not.
We had a great weekend, lots of good times had on Bourbon St, and you all know Mania was awesome. Monday morning, my buddy and I are packing our things, and we say to each other "can you imagine if we run into Virgil at the airport today?" I shit you not, as soon as we cross through security and into the terminal, my buddy goes "oh, fuckin hell, its Virgil." I thought he was screwing with me, but, as I looked up from my phone, I found Virgil smiling back at me. I couldn't believe it. We said hello, shot the breeze for a bit, and then told him we had to run to catch our flight (which really wasn't for another couple of hours). We spent the rest of the time there keeping our eyes on him, so we could avoid him. Sounds terrible, but the dude LOVES TO TALK almost as much as he hates Atlanta.
Ric Flair was also in the same terminal as all of us. There was literally a group of at least 10 people surrounding Virgil, talking with him and having a good time, while literally not a single person was even near Flair. I couldn't believe that.
Finally, we departed back to Boston - and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting to see Virgil waiting for us there too.
TL;DR - Shared hotel room with Virgil Mania weekend, couldn't escape him until returning to Boston.
H/t to Cletus Van Damme, original h/t to Lonely Virgil