SPIN

WHEEL OF FORTUNE

 

It's not my very favorite t.v. show, but I do make an effort most nights to watch the fat contestants, the nervous stuttering ones who in less than a minute have to tell Pat and the immediate world, their names, where they live, how 'wonderful' their mates are and how many children, grand children they have. I yawn thru that part. Each show I check out Pat's hairpiece. It is set to perfection on his naked head. Could it be glued on? I can't help but snicker at my own silliness. My boyfriend, Brad,  has a nice piece but it slips a little. Once when we were caught in a brief thunderstorm, the toupe turned into a drowned rat.  He ran like a mad man to catch it just before it fell into the gutter. Not a word was said about the unfortunate demise of the toupe. I told him how good he looked without it but he didn't believe me for a second. Oh, vanity, vanity–thy name is not all feminine.

 

I apologize as I have already transgressed too far from my story. Pat is a short amiable guy whose oft time words of sympathy when a contestant goes bankrupt seem to placate the losers but the audience, including me, can just feel their disappointment as they won't be going to The Sandals for a two week joy ride. They won't even get a chance to solve the final puzzle, maybe win one mil. 

 

As to Vanna–she looks the same in all of her gorgeous gowns that she swears she cannot keep. Before she steps on stage, gently takes Pat's arm, I make a secret guess what color she'll wear, how low her gown will be, how many beads, rhinestones will glitter in the spot lights. As she takes the same number of footsteps every single evening,  I count them – sixteen. If only I could shout at her, 'Get a better hairdresser. Your hair is too long, too straight, too damn boring. She's set. She's ready, standing beside the letter board. Pat looks upset when the guest asks for a 'T.' 'Sorry, no 'T' he mumbles and the next contestant calls 'D'. Vana smiles, walks the walk, clicks three 'D's. I take a quick break, return to find all players are broke. Pat spins the big wheel that stops dead center on five thousand for each correct letter called. The audience rises, applauds. I sit on the edge of the sofa and wish, even pray, that I had the chance to be on that show. Jim Powers wins twenty thousand but doesn't come up with the spin answer.

 

Pat almost cries but holds himself in check to make a big announcement. The Wheel of Fortune bus will be going thru north and south Carolina from Feb. 2 thru Feb. 10, selecting new , interesting contestants for March programs. I scream loud enough for Pat to hear me in Hawaii. I will find that bus. I will. I will. I will make it on the show and get rich.

 

My plan doesn't work right. Carolina St. has cars, trucks, motorcycles lined up as far as Georgia Avenue. Police cars keep some form of sanity to the parking area. It takes me three full days of trying different ways to get on the bus. On the fourth day, as I am nearly at the bus door, a car swerves out of line and hits me hard. My leg is broken. The police have all the details, make room for the ambulance.

 

My mishap makes it on the front page of the Chronicle and I am mentioned on t.v. AND more. The driver who so carelessly hit me had great insurance. All of my expenses were covered, plus I received $50000 for my pain and suffering.

 

I think about the car wheel that squashed my ankle and made me rich. Definitely, surely, I turned out to be a winner on The Wheel of Fortune. Pat and Vana each sent me cards and I will appear on their Christmas show.