Even this man’s autobiography is not longer than my Millionaire Saga will be.

Live from New York, it’s Friday morning!  That can only mean one thing, it’s time for the latest installment in the neverending tale known as My Millionaire Journey!  Last week we had fun sitting around backstage in the green room, which was full of contestants, producers, continental breakfast delicacies, and strange phone calls.  As would seem to be the theme in this story, I managed to get put on the back burner by being the last contestant whose associate producer eventually got hooked up with.  But Brent did finally find time from his busy day to say hello, though it took him a while to identify his target by my nametag I was wearing…

I actually still have my real nametag from that morning, but in a testament to my wonderful organizational skills, I can’t find the damn thing… though this is a good replica.

Brent has a seat in front of me and my Dad and gives us a big friendly introduction.  The first thing he does is look over the paperwork that was in my orientation packet I was given back at the hotel.  I’ve already managed to fill out one of the papers incorrectly…

Strike one, dumbass!

No need to worry about that, Brent assures me.  He didn’t come by to mock my ability to fill out simple fucking information correctly.  He was there to get that all important info for my blue card.  No doubt you’ve seen many a game show host with these blue cards in their hand that have all of these interesting nuggets about each contestant written on them so the host can waste valuable playing time pretending they’re at an ice cream social rather than running a contest with thousands of dollars in cash and prizes at stake…

It says here on your blue card that you like to stall on game shows so that your opponents don’t have enough time to make up a $7,200 deficit…

And so it was Brent’s daunting task to try to find some interesting talking points about me for Regis to use should I make the Hot Seat.  Of course, no matter what was put on the card, the first thing Regis would discover about me via his own line of questioning is that I was a single guy without a girlfriend.  The Reege would always give that stunned look every time one of us loners landed in the chair across from him.  “Well, what’s wrong with you that you can’t find a nice girl?  Are you even looking?  Should I give you the phone number of Gelman’s sister?”  Regis seemed to live to pick on the poor single guy.

Kelly, there was something wrong with this fella we had in the Hot Seat last night… hey, you aren’t dating anyone at the moment, are you?

So Brent goes to work by digging out the first interesting tidbit from my questionnaire I filled out way back at the audition.  Namely, the fact that I was forced to grow up with four younger sisters.

They post pictures of me on Facebook, so I can post pictures of them on my blog!

Oh yes, Brent thinks that Regis will have a ball with this fucked up factoid… right after he’s done riding me about not having a girlfriend.

So what else is there about me, Brent asks.  Well, since it was brought up by my audition inquisitors, I mention how much I love baseball.  I mention how it sucks a little bit that I get a trip to New York and it happens to be in January so I can’t take in a Mets or Yankees game.  Brent could absolutely care less about my misfortune…

D’oh!

Brent’s not about to be intimidated by my lack of belief in pulling out an interesting conversational piece.  This is our first time in The Big Apple, so he asks what fun and exciting things we’ve done so far.  Oh dear… me and Dad look at each other and confess that the only exploring we managed to do in NYC our first day there was walk about 10 city blocks trying to find fried chicken for dinner last night.

Brent’s eyes light up and a smile comes back to his face… this is going on the card!

No doubt the inspiration behind this video game.

My picky ass trying to track down real fried chicken would be a riot of a story Brent thinks.  Regis would no doubt give me some suggestions of restaurants where fried chicken is served on a silver platter with sparkling wine and a side of escargot…

While Brent’s managed to come up with a couple good between-segments bits from my dry past, the one thing still missing entirely is the one nugget that will define me as a contestant.  The tidbit that viewers will always associate with me and will likely end up going on my tombstone.

Just from some of the people from my message board who made it on the show, their defining hooks included the big guy who once wore a pink tutu…

Underwear optional.

The nude art model.

YESSSSS!!!! Oh wait, this contestant was a middle aged guy…

The lady who wanted to build a golf course with her winnings.

It’s not a real golf course unless it has a windmill.

In a desperate attempt to get that big story they could run with, Brent asked me about my weather background.  After all, that’s what wound up getting me on the show in the first place… but I really didn’t have anything of particular interest to add about it.

Not that I wound up doing much of the talking anyway… my Dad was quite vocal during the interview.  And he was the one who threw out what would come to be the main point on my blue card…

A fitting bolt of inspiration!

If you live in the Midwest, you have to deal with a lot of severe weather.  Lightning, winds, tornadoes…

Hail the size of batting practice homeruns.

And you either learn to fear the storms, or come to be fascinated by them.  With the exception of my crippling phobia of lightning, I was definitely the latter.  My Dad liked to jump in the truck and check out any big storms that came through from outside the city.  My Mom usually went with him, but every once in a while it was me who tagged along.  And so Brent intended to round out my blue card with the legend of….

Coming to a reality channel near you this Fall…

Well, Brent seems happy with what he was able to get out of me and my Dad.  Make no mistake about it… these guys are damn good at turning even the stiffest of stiffs into someone who could be the talk of primetime TV.

And speaking of primetime TV, it’s almost time for rehearsal!  But before we go, we get another speech in which we are told:

1. The record for the quickest time in the Fastest Finger round is 0.87 seconds by Shannon McGhee managing to randomly luck into putting Elizabeth Taylor husbands in order.  Don’t try to break her record, because it will never be done…

Shannon’s record, that is… not Liz’s record.

2. We were guaranteed that we would get at least one fastest finger question, but almost positively at least two chances at the Hot Seat.  To date, there had only been two hour long shows that had time for only one fastest finger question, leaving nine unhappy campers to die in the Ring of Fire…

In case you ever wondered what unhappy campers looked like.

And 3. If there is any dialogue we have with Regis that we are so uncomfortable with that we really don’t want it to be aired on TV, just let them know, and they “almost always” could get it edited out.

Could we leave out the My Little Pony fascination Regis brought up after he found out I was single? Thank you.

And now it’s time to line up to head down to the studio for rehearsal!  The line forms in front of the continental breakfast buffet, and we are told the order we line up in will be the order we are to sit in once we get to the studio.  The first taping group gets called first.  I already know I’m dead last in my group, so I was completely and totally unprepared when my name was called out ninth…

NINTH!

Oh shit…. THE CURSE!!!!

Yerrrrrrrrrrrrr Outta Here!!!!

And now the survey says it’s time to close this unfortunate chapter in my Millionaire Journey.  Join me again next week, as we head downstairs to the actual, real, live studio where the game show is filmed!  Oh, and Seat Fucking Nine….

Let’s go!!! Fire this puppy up!!!