A week and a half ago a friend and I went down to Manhattan so I could audition for Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, the midday game show hosted by Meredith Vieira. I decided I wanted to audition a few weeks back after watching an episode on the elliptical machine and realizing how dumb some of the contestants on that show are. I know a bunch of random stuff about random stuff and it comes in handy winning free beer at trivia nights. I can confidently say I'm good at trivia. So I went to the website and signed up for a time slot the following Wednesday.
That morning I woke up with amazing hair and blue skies smiling at me. Breezed through a good day at work. Then we headed towards the city. The drive was easy and the weather was just so good I have to mention it twice. The ABC offices were really easy to get to. The building is right next to Central Park and a block up from Lincoln Center. Right around the corner is a Mormon chapel that shares a building with a folk museum. (I thought an American folk religion sharing a building with folk art was amusing. But maybe that's just me.) So my friend killed time at the museum while I waited in line and took the test.
It was pretty straight forward. We got in line outside and then we went through a metal detector, that I set off somehow, and sat at tables set up in a small studio cafeteria. I sat next to a dude who also tried to get on Jeopardy and across from a woman whose daughter is trying to be an actress. We had ten minutes to take a thirty question exam. I felt pretty good about it. I knew most of it and the ones that I didn't feel so good about were few and far between. When our time was up we had to remember what number was assigned to our test and listen for it to be announced as having a passing score.
I didn't have a passing score. Nor did thirty-nine of the other forty-five people there. I was kind of surprised. I didn't think it was going to be terribly easy but that's how good I felt about my trivia knowledge. And that's saying a lot. I tend to not think very highly of myself so when I say I feel good about a skill I possess that means something. I'm not the only one surprised either. Even my dad, who's not big on false hope, was surprised.
What does this mean? That I wallowed or now consider myself stupid? No. It means that show hasn't seen the last of me yet. It must've just not been my day. I'm going to try again. And I'm bringing Mike with me. Because if I don't pass, he most certainly will. My husband knows everything. For reals. I actually took something from this- that I'm finally gaining confidence in parts of myself. One down. Hundreds to go.