C'mon Down!

Right now, I have claimed my place in contestants row and I'm waiting. I'm waiting for the next item up for bid.

I hope it's something good.

I hope it is a flat screen t.v. or a pair of diamond earrings or a juke box. If my bid is the closest without going over, I win. I win a chance to go up on stage and try my hand at winning again.


















Drew Carey totally wants me to win. He wants everyone to win. He does. I have never seen a more sincere game show host. Ever. Alex and Pat got nothing on this dude. I don't think Bob himself even had it in him. I just don't.

Drew, get ready, cause I'm winning this. I'm taking it all home, Drew Carey.

Get ready!



















My heart is beating fast. It has sunk all the way into the acidy pit of my stomach and I can barely keep it together. I can barely keep it together but I can't stop smiling the biggest cheesiest smile. It makes my face hurt. But I am going to keep on smiling. Yea. I'm gonna.
I am going to win. My hands are sweating. My armpits are sweating. My temples are dripping with salty salty sweat. I feel nauseous and dizzy and I think I want to cry. I can't feel my feet and my skin is all tingly. It is tingly and hot and cold and hot again.


















I look into the crowd. I scan it quickly and recognize familiar faces. I knew they would be there. They always are there. They are good for that. Being there.

I want to scream and jump for joy. They are. They are screaming and jumping for joy. The familiar faces are screaming and jumping and shouting prices at me. They hold up their hands and they are twisting their fingers into number like shapes. They gesture with their hands to form some sort of sign language. Some sort of secret language. I know exactly what they are telling me. I know exactly what they are saying. They are telling me to bid. They are telling me to win. They are telling me to win big and smile and sweat and cry and jump and scream.

I will. Promise.