Game Show

Looking down the row of colorful fan-filled T-shirts, holding my sign high for all to see, I experience a moment of concern to be amidst so many cultural castaways. And when I stand to take my turn to scream and profess my love for someone I’ve never met in front of hundreds of people I’ll never see again, I seriously begin to question my sanity. Just what had led me here, to the Temple of Bob? I drifted back to the first time I thought it might be fun to get on a game show – exactly one week before this day.

The Show

Just what does it take to get on a game show? I’ve had my speculations in the past, but until last week, I never actively sought an answer. Completely ignorant of the process, I did the prudent thing by Googling, “game show contestant.” The sheer immensity of “how-to” sites made it clear to me that I was not the first person to wonder what it takes to get on TV and win free shit. I watch a maximum of 30 minutes of television every fortnight, and have no clue what shows are even airing anymore. Just because I don’t watch TV doesn’t make me culturally retarded, so I dug deep in my memory banks for names of game shows I’d seen in the past, and the following sprung to mind: Jeopardy, The Wheel of Fortune, The Price is Right, and something with the word “millionaire” in it. I immediately ruled out the millionaire one. Too stupid, too “banterific.” (Barbarism) The few minutes of this show I happened to catch in the last year or so merely convinced me that Regis really is annoying, and people really are dumb as shit. Jeopardy, though my favorite to watch, is a show I have neither the patience nor the trivia acumen to attempt. Know your strengths, know your weaknesses. The Periodic Table and potpourri facts seem to escape me on a regular basis. Onto the next!

Wheel of Fortune, now THERE’S a game show. Words, a wheel, and a man named Pat. My sources tell me Vanna recently took pole-dancing classes. That vixen. Wheel of Fortune was my number one choice, so I got on the show’s web site to see what I had to do. Adult application, okay, seems simple enough. What? Two to three weeks before they let you know if you’ve been considered? And most people NEVER hear back at ALL? Risky. I sent an email almost immediately after I filled out my application (note: the “application” is merely an information gathering form for name, address, etc.) in hopes that this would help me get noticed. As if every fanatic out there simply fills out their information form and leaves it at that. Right. So Wheel of Fortune was a shot in the dark, depending on the sheer volume of applicants. This left one.

Two Bucks

According to my trusty how-to sites, The Price is Right is the only game show someone with my microscopic level of patience was likely to get on. It also seemed to be the easiest; as I would come to learn, the prerequisites are simple and few: one must have the patience of a rock, the enthusiasm of a hyperactive 7-year-old on Christmas morning, and a stupid T-shirt (the astute reader will deduce that “intelligence” isn’t necessary, but I’m getting ahead of myself). I figured Monday was a perfect day to be on TV, so I booked a room at the Wyndham Bel Age on Sunset Boulevard for Sunday night. On Thursday afternoon, as I was getting a fabulous new “do,” I recruited my good friend and stylist, Ronaldo, to be my game-show companion. Things were falling into place and everything was set. Surely I was guaranteed a wonderful experience, an extended spotlight, and tons big showcase booty. Saturday, I began to have some doubts.

My routine shopping list consists of Lean Cuisines, Diet Coke, hair clips, cat food, and kitty litter. On those rare occasions that I stock up on toiletries and perishables, I have a little formula for figuring out the prices – assume that everything in the cart is 2 bucks. This has never failed me, from San Diego to Los Angeles, and back again. I just don’t pay attention to individual prices. THE WORD IS IN THE TITLE OF THE SHOW, and I didn’t have clue one about the price of anything! Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not Miss Moneybags, I don’t wave the prices away because they don’t matter. It’s just that, for my needs, my pricing scheme has proven sufficient. This was going to be tougher than I thought.