Winging It

The day after tomorrow. . portentous music here, please. . I'm getting into a rental car and driving 3ish hours to Hotlanta, where I will try out for Jeopardy. I have not studied. I have not dieted. I have not, god help me, even had my eyebrows waxed, which was like the total minimum thing I was going to do before I tried out for Jeopardy, as everyone knows that excess eyebrow hair pull your IQ down. They extrude it. Or something.

My daughter made me play the online version of Jeopardy for a while tonight and I'm here to tell you that it kind of reeks, although I found that if I used the bald guy with glasses as my avatar I got smarter. Maybe I should shave my head tonight. Or not. My daughter is disgusted with my lack of doing anything about jeopardy but honestly, I find that I don't care. The whole thing kind of fell out of the sky in the first place: I wasn't really looking for it and being on Jeopardy, while it's always been something that I thought would be sort of fun, hasn't ever really been a life's ambition or anything. In fact, I haven't even watched the show for like 10 years, unless you count the couple of times I've been in a bar at the right time. In those bars, and alas, there are far too few of them, I rock and people are impressed with me, except of course for those people who find me intimidating, or, like the guy at the Brew N' View (which isn't Jeopardy but that weird trivia online bar game thing that people play at the Applebys in Timonium as well as other assorted creepy bars all over the interior of the US) get all offended and obnoxious because I'm beating their high scores. Actually that guy was the only one and I think he was just your common garden variety asshole. Too bad for him: I beat the pants off him - not, thank god, literally.

So wish me luck. Off I go. Unprepared, unwaxed and unthin, but with a devil may care attitude that's okay, not hard to beat, but well, more interesting to beat anyway.