I'm a game-show snob. I admit it. I'd rather watch Jeopardy than Wheel of Fortune. I'd rather see a librarian mentally scrape out her cerebellum with a rubber spatula and relieve Ben Stein of $5,000 than endure some buffoon burning through his lifelines trying to win two hundred times that amount from Regis. When Remote Control was on MTV, I was wishing Turn It Up was on instead. Okay, maybe I lost you with that last one. But the point is that game shows aren't about money and prizes for me. They're only worth my time if they're really, really hard. The harder, the scarier, the more intimidating the host, the better. So, naturally, I want to be on The Weakest Link. I think I could win. Not because I'm the smartest person in any given group, but because I'm the second-smartest. See, the smartest person always gets voted off a round or two before the end because nobody wants to go against him in the final. So the show ends with the second-smartest person up against some mouth-breathing knuckle-dragger. I could clean up in that situation. I could brave humiliation at the hands of Anne Robinson, risk the Walk of Shame, unflinchingly endure the questions coming at me like Howitzer fire, and it would all be worth it because at the end I could go home with as much as a thousand dollars. I also like to think I could come up with reasons for voting people off that aren't overtly mean. I get no joy insulting people to their faces; I'd much rather do it over the internet. So instead, when Anne asks me why I voted against Clem, I'd just do like they do on Big Brother and say, "I think Clem needs to be home with his family. He misses them, and his kids need their dad, and those empty beer cans on his TV ain't gonna shoot themselves." Never mind that Clem's only going to be getting home fifteen minutes sooner. I just couldn't bring myself to say "Clem is a waste of carbon" while he's standing right there. I've tried to call the number to get on the show, but it's always busy. Then I heard on the radio that the show was going to be holding open auditions here in town the next day. They'd be staging a mock version of the game and everything. Dude, I was there. They said auditions would start at noon. I heeded warnings from several people and decided to show up early. Nine o'clock should do it. 9:05 AM. I arrive at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in downtown Minneapolis. The registration is being held in the "Regency Room." The room is closed and there's a table set up next to the door. A short line has formed, about twenty people strong. They don't look so smart. I sit on the floor at the end of the line, my back against a low wall that overlooks an atrium. I reach into my bag for my breakfast -- a nutrition bar -- and my book. I thought about bringing Gravity's Rainbow to psych people out, but I already read it this year. Besides, that thing is heavy. So I have a book of short stories by T. Coraghessan Boyle. See that? I can spell "Coraghessan" without even looking it up. Uh-oh, I'm the smartest person here. I hope someone smarter than I shows up soon.

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I'm a game-show snob. I admit it. I'd rather watch Jeopardy than Wheel of Fortune. I'd rather see a librarian mentally scrape out her cerebellum with a rubber spatula and relieve Ben Stein of $5,000 than endure some buffoon burning through his lifelines trying to win two hundred times that amount from Regis. When Remote Control was on MTV, I was wishing Turn It Up was on instead.

Okay, maybe I lost you with that last one. But the point is that game shows aren't about money and prizes for me. They're only worth my time if they're really, really hard. The harder, the scarier, the more intimidating the host, the better.

So, naturally, I want to be on The Weakest Link. I think I could win. Not because I'm the smartest person in any given group, but because I'm the second-smartest. See, the smartest person always gets voted off a round or two before the end because nobody wants to go against him in the final. So the show ends with the second-smartest person up against some mouth-breathing knuckle-dragger. I could clean up in that situation. I could brave humiliation at the hands of Anne Robinson, risk the Walk of Shame, unflinchingly endure the questions coming at me like Howitzer fire, and it would all be worth it because at the end I could go home with as much as a thousand dollars.

I also like to think I could come up with reasons for voting people off that aren't overtly mean. I get no joy insulting people to their faces; I'd much rather do it over the internet. So instead, when Anne asks me why I voted against Clem, I'd just do like they do on Big Brother and say, "I think Clem needs to be home with his family. He misses them, and his kids need their dad, and those empty beer cans on his TV ain't gonna shoot themselves." Never mind that Clem's only going to be getting home fifteen minutes sooner. I just couldn't bring myself to say "Clem is a waste of carbon" while he's standing right there.

I've tried to call the number to get on the show, but it's always busy. Then I heard on the radio that the show was going to be holding open auditions here in town the next day. They'd be staging a mock version of the game and everything. Dude, I was there. They said auditions would start at noon. I heeded warnings from several people and decided to show up early. Nine o'clock should do it.

9:05 AM. I arrive at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in downtown Minneapolis. The registration is being held in the "Regency Room." The room is closed and there's a table set up next to the door. A short line has formed, about twenty people strong. They don't look so smart. I sit on the floor at the end of the line, my back against a low wall that overlooks an atrium. I reach into my bag for my breakfast -- a nutrition bar -- and my book. I thought about bringing Gravity's Rainbow to psych people out, but I already read it this year. Besides, that thing is heavy. So I have a book of short stories by T. Coraghessan Boyle. See that? I can spell "Coraghessan" without even looking it up. Uh-oh, I'm the smartest person here. I hope someone smarter than I shows up soon.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9Next