PT Millionaire Returning

[flockofseagulls104]

Okay, Holding up umbrella to block flying objects and...

1) Does this mean you'll only watch the show if and when you get on? Why would the phone game make any difference?
No, I will only go out of my way to watch the show if it has a way for me to qualify. I rarely watch any game show because I don't care. A phone game qualifier will give me a reason to care.

2)I'm honestly sick and tired of this "Phone Game is what made the show" crap. It's just not true. I've no doubt that the phone game was a part of it, but if you choose to completely ignore the fact that it was part of a trivia fad/craze you're fooling yourself. The phone game may have "made the show" for you, but don't presume to think you are talking for America.

I'm fooling myself. But I'll bet WWTBAM would not have been the hit it was if they brought in auditioned contestants from the coast at the beginning. The phone game is the ONLY reason I had any interest in it.

3) I don't think the show will "flop bigtime." And why do you hope it does? I don't get the wishing ill on other people thing. Do you want the show to fail simply because they aren't catering to what YOU want? And I'm not trying to antagonize you, honestly, I'm just trying to better figure out your point of view.

I just think if they are banking on the fact that people will be at all interested in it because of Regis or because it is in prime time, they will be very disappointed. And I hope it flops because if they have no intent on opening it up to everyone, then I don't care if it ever comes back. But perhaps there is a remote chance they will see that the phone game is the key. And I don't like the fact that they discriminate against Middle Aged White Guys. How's them apples?

[clem21]

Okay, Holding up umbrella to block flying objects and...

1) Does this mean you'll only watch the show if and when you get on? Why would the phone game make any difference?
No, I will only go out of my way to watch the show if it has a way for me to qualify. I rarely watch any game show because I don't care. A phone game qualifier will give me a reason to care.

2)I'm honestly sick and tired of this "Phone Game is what made the show" crap. It's just not true. I've no doubt that the phone game was a part of it, but if you choose to completely ignore the fact that it was part of a trivia fad/craze you're fooling yourself. The phone game may have "made the show" for you, but don't presume to think you are talking for America.

I'm fooling myself. But I'll bet WWTBAM would not have been the hit it was if they brought in auditioned contestants from the coast at the beginning. The phone game is the ONLY reason I had any interest in it.

3) I don't think the show will "flop bigtime." And why do you hope it does? I don't get the wishing ill on other people thing. Do you want the show to fail simply because they aren't catering to what YOU want? And I'm not trying to antagonize you, honestly, I'm just trying to better figure out your point of view.

I just think if they are banking on the fact that people will be at all interested in it because of Regis or because it is in prime time, they will be very disappointed. And I hope it flops because if they have no intent on opening it up to everyone, then I don't care if it ever comes back. But perhaps there is a remote chance they will see that the phone game is the key. And I don't like the fact that they discriminate against Middle Aged White Guys. How's them apples?

Or maybe people will be interested because the whole Slumdog thing and the economy make the time ripe for another big trivia show event. Remember, most people (myself included up until the last year) haven't watched Millionaire in 10 years so there's a nostalgia angle to it too. I distinctly remember how great that summer was. And it centered on the Millionaire craze. I don't think anyone I knew even knew what the phone game was. And yet, everywhere you went people were talking about Millionaire.

I'm willing to bet that people will remember that summer specifically. And yes, Regis will attract viewers and the fact that it's a limited event will only help its cause. And you can ignore it all you want but to directly wish ill on it does nothing to help your cause. It only makes you sound bitter. I'm genuinely not trying to insult you, but that's how it comes off.

I hope that you do try out and that you do get on, because lord knows you, Marley and the others deserve it...

That's how I like them Two-Inch Medium Mortars.

[clem21]

Okay, Holding up umbrella to block flying objects and...

1) Does this mean you'll only watch the show if and when you get on? Why would the phone game make any difference?
No, I will only go out of my way to watch the show if it has a way for me to qualify. I rarely watch any game show because I don't care. A phone game qualifier will give me a reason to care.

2)I'm honestly sick and tired of this "Phone Game is what made the show" crap. It's just not true. I've no doubt that the phone game was a part of it, but if you choose to completely ignore the fact that it was part of a trivia fad/craze you're fooling yourself. The phone game may have "made the show" for you, but don't presume to think you are talking for America.

I'm fooling myself. But I'll bet WWTBAM would not have been the hit it was if they brought in auditioned contestants from the coast at the beginning. The phone game is the ONLY reason I had any interest in it.

3) I don't think the show will "flop bigtime." And why do you hope it does? I don't get the wishing ill on other people thing. Do you want the show to fail simply because they aren't catering to what YOU want? And I'm not trying to antagonize you, honestly, I'm just trying to better figure out your point of view.

I just think if they are banking on the fact that people will be at all interested in it because of Regis or because it is in prime time, they will be very disappointed. And I hope it flops because if they have no intent on opening it up to everyone, then I don't care if it ever comes back. But perhaps there is a remote chance they will see that the phone game is the key. And I don't like the fact that they discriminate against Middle Aged White Guys. How's them apples?

Or maybe people will be interested because the whole Slumdog thing and the economy make the time ripe for another big trivia show event. Remember, most people (myself included up until the last year) haven't watched Millionaire in 10 years so there's a nostalgia angle to it too. I distinctly remember how great that summer was. And it centered on the Millionaire craze. I don't think anyone I knew even knew what the phone game was. And yet, everywhere you went people were talking about Millionaire.

I'm willing to bet that people will remember that summer specifically. And yes, Regis will attract viewers and the fact that it's a limited event will only help its cause. And you can ignore it all you want but to directly wish ill on it does nothing to help your cause. It only makes you sound bitter. I'm genuinely not trying to insult you, but that's how it comes off.

I hope that you do try out and that you do get on, because lord knows you, Marley and the others deserve it...

That's how I like them Two-Inch Medium Mortars.

Also, this gives me an excuse to post this link.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLG3S5WzHig

[flockofseagulls104]

I ain't gonna audition to have some twenty somethings decide whether I have enough of whatever they think they want on the show. The show did the best when the people were real and not auditioned. Other than that I might as well just watch Wheel of Fortune or The Price is Right, and I don't care to.

[Hotseat Or Bust!]

Other than living within a certain distance of the ABC viewing area, or being employed in the entertainment industry, is there anything else which would make one a WE?

[Hotseat Or Bust!]

I am aware of the history of the Jimmy Kimmel/Matt Damon joke, and thought that was a very clever skit!! Do you happen to know how recent it is, Clem?

[clem21]

I ain't gonna audition to have some twenty somethings decide whether I have enough of whatever they think they want on the show. The show did the best when the people were real and not auditioned. Other than that I might as well just watch Wheel of Fortune or The Price is Right, and I don't care to.

Are twenty somethings innately stupider than other people? Or are they just too young to make decisions?

[clem21]

I am aware of the history of the Jimmy Kimmel/Matt Damon joke, and thought that was a very clever skit!! Do you happen to know how recent it is, Clem?

Sure, it was after the strike...maybe a little more than a year ago...

Also...the sequel http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_pFTAY7MF8

[TheConfessor]

Are twenty somethings innately stupider than other people? Or are they just too young to make decisions?

Nope, because innate means they were born that way, and no one is born as a twenty something. I think it's more accurate to say that twenty somethings are inherently stupider than thirty somethings and smarter than teen somethings, but that's a very broad generalization and there are many exceptions to that rule of thumb. A more accurate rule is that people who pay attention to what's happening in the world are better game show contestants than people who don't, regardless of age.

[clem21]

Are twenty somethings innately stupider than other people? Or are they just too young to make decisions?

Nope, because innate means they were born that way, and no one is born as a twenty something. I think it's more accurate to say that twenty somethings are inherently stupider than thirty somethings and smarter than teen somethings, but that's a very broad generalization and there are many exceptions to that rule of thumb. A more accurate rule is that people who pay attention to what's happening in the world are better game show contestants than people who don't, regardless of age.

Thus proving that I'm innately an idiot.

[Estonut]

Nope, because innate means they were born that way, and no one is born as a twenty something.

He said "innately stupider," not "innately twentysomething..."

[TheConfessor]

Nope, because innate means they were born that way, and no one is born as a twenty something.

He said "innately stupider," not "innately twentysomething..."

If you want to get technical, Clem didn't say anything. He typed it. But I think I answered his question accurately and honestly, at least from my perspective. I think we are all innately stupid, pretty much by definition. If all goes well, we get smarter over time.

[clem21]

Nope, because innate means they were born that way, and no one is born as a twenty something.

He said "innately stupider," not "innately twentysomething..."

If you want to get technical, Clem didn't say anything. He typed it. But I think I answered his question accurately and honestly, at least from my perspective. I think we are all innately stupid, pretty much by definition. If all goes well, we get smarter over time.

Oh please boys. Don't start a fight over little old me...

[EugeneF]

In 2007 "Who Wants To Be a Millionaire" held auditions in metropolitan Chicago. Here is my account of that farce....


Who wants to be tortured and humiliated? I evidently do. Although I did not book my summer vacation at Abu Ghraib, I was among the 2500 victims who auditioned for "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire."

America's second favorite quiz show was touring the Midwest, looking for contestants. The brilliant and the greedy of metropolitan Chicago were invited to audition at Medieval Times in Schaumburg, August 15, from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Come one, come all. So we did.

Speaking of medieval times, I have been vying to be on Millionaire since the days of Regis. To be honest, I was a prisoner of expectations. I have some faded renown as a former champion on Jeopardy, so everyone told me "You ought to be on Millionaire." And I agreed!

At one time, you could audition for the show by telephone. Confronted with such questions as "Arrange these Secretaries of Labor in chronological order", you would type your response on the phone key pad. I cannot tell you how many times I passed those tests. I can tell how many times I was invited on the show: less than once. To my further aggravation, I knew a number of people who were contestants; and guess whom they asked to be their phone-a-friend? Vicarious glory is better than none at all, but I wanted to be more than just a disembodied voice on Millionaire.

Since Meredith began hosting the syndicated version, Millionaire's auditions are usually held in New York, an inconvenient location for a Midwestern boy. However, the news of the Schaumburg auditions seemed like a personal invitation. Being a free-lance writer, answerable only to God and the IRS, I had the time to waste. Even my practical wife thought I should go. I had to try.

Although the auditions were scheduled to begin at 9 a.m., I was determined to arrive early. I could imagine how crowded it would be. In fact, my imagination was an underachiever. I arrived at 7:45 a.m. and was already too late: the parking lot at Medieval Times was full. The summer interns of WGN founding themselves improvising traffic control, forming barriers and telling the dismayed and indignant drivers that the nearest available parking was a mile away. There also was a police car to discourage any rioting. So my car and I joined the caravan in the quest for parking.

The parking lot, although depressingly distant, was quite easy to find. You could see a procession of aspiring contestants trudging from there toward Medieval Times. In fact, it did seem like a medieval pilgrimage. There were young and old, quite a few who had difficulty making the unexpected hike; and we were all hoping for a miracle: the chance to be on Millionaire. The show has less than 500 contestants a year; but from this region alone 2500 people were auditioning. Millionaire was also holding try-outs in Pittsburgh and Seattle; of course, there are regular auditions in New York. What are the odds of being chosen? Each and every one of us was praying for a statistical miracle.

After a fairly vigorous hike (Schaumburg does not believe in sidewalks) I arrived at the audition. I should be grateful for that exercise because I now would be standing in line for the next five hours. At 8:30 a.m., that line extended the length of two city blocks. An hour later, it was twice that long. You might wonder how to kill five hours in a line. Some people had the foresight to bring paperbacks; you could see a few determined contestants intent on memorizing almanacs. Others were on their cellphones; catching up on everyone they knew. I just started talking with my neighbors. I soon knew the names of their children and pets; and they might have learned some tactless details about my in-laws. We soon were a band of brothers and vowed to be each other's phone-a-friend.

Over the hours, we slowly approached the building where the auditions were held. A little past noon, we finally entered the "castle"..We were still standing in line but at least we now were out of the August sun. After another hour, the show's staff handed out forms and questionnaires to complete. The form was intended to reassure the producers and their lawyers that I had no relatives or suspicious connections on the show or with any of the show's sponsors. (You apparently are not allowed friends in advertising.) I was also required to divulge that I had been on Jeopardy: no one wants a game show hustler. In addition to a statistical miracle, I now was praying for a statute of limitations.

In contrast to the rigid legalese of the form, the questionnaire was cloyingly whimsical. It sought endearing personalities among the applicants by asking "What would you do if you won a million dollars?" and "What was the most embarrassing moment of your life?" For the million dollar query, I replied "I would ask my wife how we were spending it. As long as I have cable television and a freezer full of ice cream, I wouldn't have any further questions." As for the most embarrassing moment of my life, I answered, "I have yet to be convicted of a crime, so I haven't had that moment. So far my life has been only a series of minor martyrdoms." The questionnaire also asked "Tell us something about yourself that no one else knows." Unfortunately, I don't seem to have any fetishes or undiagnosed psychoses, and I really wasn't prepared to fabricate any. The contestant coordinators had to be satisfied with my sincere sarcasm.

Finally, we were assigned our battalions--at least 150 contestants per group-- and led into the auditorium where Medieval Times normally holds its banquets, jousts and possible reenactments of the bubonic plague. For the first time in six hours, we had the luxury of sitting. Each of us received an ID number, a pencil, an answer sheet and a sealed test. We were informed that the test consisted of 30 answers, multiple-choice, and we had ten minutes to complete it. Starting now: Britney Spears; white blood cells; Bernie Mac; Jane Austen. Time's up.

Then we had to wait to for the results. Talking among ourselves, we did our scoring and evaluations. "Was that Mae West?" "Oh, it's the retina." "Are you sure it was Paris?" If there were any doubts, one fellow would use his Blackberry to ascertain the correct answer. Yes, it definitely was "Casablanca". Finally, a staff member read aloud the ID numbers. Yes, I had passed; would I have written this if I hadn't? Of my "band of brothers" only the Chicago fireman joined me as a survivor. Of the entire battalion, some two dozen passed the test. We were told to go across the building for our interviews with the contestant coordinators.

And once again we were standing and waiting. Add another 30 minutes to the Purgatory. Three staff members of Millionaire interrogated hundreds of us to determine who--if any--would end up sitting next to Meredith. All of that interviewing must be draining. My interrogator could not bother to mask his boredom and indifference. He was seated, and next to him was a pitcher of cola and a box of cookies. But what was my fatigue and hunger compared to his ennui. He did not bother to look at my questionnaire. The interview was basically "Hello, what do you do for a living, good luck and goodbye." His callousness was dismaying. Was I lucky that he refrained from physical abuse? Actually, if he had flung the cola in my face, I could have used the nourishment.

I staggered out of the building and began the mile-long trek to my car. That humiliating dismissal probably was the appropriate end to a draining, miserable experience. This was the type of day that inspires a satirist as soon as I recuperate. And I now have an understanding of the great mystery of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire." Why do its contestants always seem so dippy and spent? I realize that they once were bright and vibrant; but the auditions have left them blithering, exhausted wrecks.

[Jeemie]

Although for me, the phone game made PTBAM what it is for me, I agree with Clem.

20 or so million people watched the show in it's heyday.

Maybe 150,000-200,000 people tried out for the show- only 1% of the viewing audience (yes, TPTB set limits on how many people could call in, but there was never any indication that there was much more demand to play the phone game than the limits they set).

I do not believe that if they had cast auditions for the show that the shopw would have flopped.

I believe the vast majority of the viewing audience didn't give a shit how one got on the show.

It meant something to US as a very small subset of the viewing audience. That doesn't mean it meant something to the wider audience.

[Jeemie]

In 2007 "Who Wants To Be a Millionaire" held auditions in metropolitan Chicago. Here is my account of that farce....


Who wants to be tortured and humiliated? I evidently do. Although I did not book my summer vacation at Abu Ghraib, I was among the 2500 victims who auditioned for "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire."

America's second favorite quiz show was touring the Midwest, looking for contestants. The brilliant and the greedy of metropolitan Chicago were invited to audition at Medieval Times in Schaumburg, August 15, from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Come one, come all. So we did.

Speaking of medieval times, I have been vying to be on Millionaire since the days of Regis. To be honest, I was a prisoner of expectations. I have some faded renown as a former champion on Jeopardy, so everyone told me "You ought to be on Millionaire." And I agreed!

At one time, you could audition for the show by telephone. Confronted with such questions as "Arrange these Secretaries of Labor in chronological order", you would type your response on the phone key pad. I cannot tell you how many times I passed those tests. I can tell how many times I was invited on the show: less than once. To my further aggravation, I knew a number of people who were contestants; and guess whom they asked to be their phone-a-friend? Vicarious glory is better than none at all, but I wanted to be more than just a disembodied voice on Millionaire.

Since Meredith began hosting the syndicated version, Millionaire's auditions are usually held in New York, an inconvenient location for a Midwestern boy. However, the news of the Schaumburg auditions seemed like a personal invitation. Being a free-lance writer, answerable only to God and the IRS, I had the time to waste. Even my practical wife thought I should go. I had to try.

Although the auditions were scheduled to begin at 9 a.m., I was determined to arrive early. I could imagine how crowded it would be. In fact, my imagination was an underachiever. I arrived at 7:45 a.m. and was already too late: the parking lot at Medieval Times was full. The summer interns of WGN founding themselves improvising traffic control, forming barriers and telling the dismayed and indignant drivers that the nearest available parking was a mile away. There also was a police car to discourage any rioting. So my car and I joined the caravan in the quest for parking.

The parking lot, although depressingly distant, was quite easy to find. You could see a procession of aspiring contestants trudging from there toward Medieval Times. In fact, it did seem like a medieval pilgrimage. There were young and old, quite a few who had difficulty making the unexpected hike; and we were all hoping for a miracle: the chance to be on Millionaire. The show has less than 500 contestants a year; but from this region alone 2500 people were auditioning. Millionaire was also holding try-outs in Pittsburgh and Seattle; of course, there are regular auditions in New York. What are the odds of being chosen? Each and every one of us was praying for a statistical miracle.

After a fairly vigorous hike (Schaumburg does not believe in sidewalks) I arrived at the audition. I should be grateful for that exercise because I now would be standing in line for the next five hours. At 8:30 a.m., that line extended the length of two city blocks. An hour later, it was twice that long. You might wonder how to kill five hours in a line. Some people had the foresight to bring paperbacks; you could see a few determined contestants intent on memorizing almanacs. Others were on their cellphones; catching up on everyone they knew. I just started talking with my neighbors. I soon knew the names of their children and pets; and they might have learned some tactless details about my in-laws. We soon were a band of brothers and vowed to be each other's phone-a-friend.

Over the hours, we slowly approached the building where the auditions were held. A little past noon, we finally entered the "castle"..We were still standing in line but at least we now were out of the August sun. After another hour, the show's staff handed out forms and questionnaires to complete. The form was intended to reassure the producers and their lawyers that I had no relatives or suspicious connections on the show or with any of the show's sponsors. (You apparently are not allowed friends in advertising.) I was also required to divulge that I had been on Jeopardy: no one wants a game show hustler. In addition to a statistical miracle, I now was praying for a statute of limitations.

In contrast to the rigid legalese of the form, the questionnaire was cloyingly whimsical. It sought endearing personalities among the applicants by asking "What would you do if you won a million dollars?" and "What was the most embarrassing moment of your life?" For the million dollar query, I replied "I would ask my wife how we were spending it. As long as I have cable television and a freezer full of ice cream, I wouldn't have any further questions." As for the most embarrassing moment of my life, I answered, "I have yet to be convicted of a crime, so I haven't had that moment. So far my life has been only a series of minor martyrdoms." The questionnaire also asked "Tell us something about yourself that no one else knows." Unfortunately, I don't seem to have any fetishes or undiagnosed psychoses, and I really wasn't prepared to fabricate any. The contestant coordinators had to be satisfied with my sincere sarcasm.

Finally, we were assigned our battalions--at least 150 contestants per group-- and led into the auditorium where Medieval Times normally holds its banquets, jousts and possible reenactments of the bubonic plague. For the first time in six hours, we had the luxury of sitting. Each of us received an ID number, a pencil, an answer sheet and a sealed test. We were informed that the test consisted of 30 answers, multiple-choice, and we had ten minutes to complete it. Starting now: Britney Spears; white blood cells; Bernie Mac; Jane Austen. Time's up.

Then we had to wait to for the results. Talking among ourselves, we did our scoring and evaluations. "Was that Mae West?" "Oh, it's the retina." "Are you sure it was Paris?" If there were any doubts, one fellow would use his Blackberry to ascertain the correct answer. Yes, it definitely was "Casablanca". Finally, a staff member read aloud the ID numbers. Yes, I had passed; would I have written this if I hadn't? Of my "band of brothers" only the Chicago fireman joined me as a survivor. Of the entire battalion, some two dozen passed the test. We were told to go across the building for our interviews with the contestant coordinators.

And once again we were standing and waiting. Add another 30 minutes to the Purgatory. Three staff members of Millionaire interrogated hundreds of us to determine who--if any--would end up sitting next to Meredith. All of that interviewing must be draining. My interrogator could not bother to mask his boredom and indifference. He was seated, and next to him was a pitcher of cola and a box of cookies. But what was my fatigue and hunger compared to his ennui. He did not bother to look at my questionnaire. The interview was basically "Hello, what do you do for a living, good luck and goodbye." His callousness was dismaying. Was I lucky that he refrained from physical abuse? Actually, if he had flung the cola in my face, I could have used the nourishment.

I staggered out of the building and began the mile-long trek to my car. That humiliating dismissal probably was the appropriate end to a draining, miserable experience. This was the type of day that inspires a satirist as soon as I recuperate. And I now have an understanding of the great mystery of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire." Why do its contestants always seem so dippy and spent? I realize that they once were bright and vibrant; but the auditions have left them blithering, exhausted wrecks.

That was my November 2001 audition.

[rayxtwo]

That was mine in St. Louis, Dallas, Chicago, Little Rock, Tulsa, Nashville, St. Louis (again) and Terre Haute.

Ray

[EugeneF]

That was mine in St. Louis, Dallas, Chicago, Little Rock, Tulsa, Nashville, St. Louis (again) and Terre Haute.

Ray

Did we the encounter the same staff jerk or are they all like that?

Eugene

[silvercamaro]

That was mine in St. Louis, Dallas, Chicago, Little Rock, Tulsa, Nashville, St. Louis (again) and Terre Haute.

Ray

Did we the encounter the same staff jerk or are they all like that?

Eugene

They are not all like that. One in particular is frequently like that, and I bet dozens of us could supply the name of the AP who interviewed you, without having any clues whatsoever about his appearance.

[gsabc]

That was mine in St. Louis, Dallas, Chicago, Little Rock, Tulsa, Nashville, St. Louis (again) and Terre Haute.

Ray

Did we the encounter the same staff jerk or are they all like that?

Eugene

They are not all like that. One in particular is frequently like that, and I bet dozens of us could supply the name of the AP who interviewed you, without having any clues whatsoever about his appearance.

The memory of my September 2001 Boston interviewer is that she was female. I could be wrong. It was such a disaster that I've blocked most of the specifics out of my brain. There is no memory, for instance, of the person identifying themselves by name. And since I mostly saw only the top of their head because they were busier with picking up their coffee than with my completed application or me, I can't recall what he/she looked like.

[JBillyGirl]

The memory of my September 2001 Boston interviewer is that she was female. I could be wrong. It was such a disaster that I've blocked most of the specifics out of my brain. There is no memory, for instance, of the person identifying themselves by name. And since I mostly saw only the top of their head because they were busier with picking up their coffee than with my completed application or me, I can't recall what he/she looked like.

I think we are talking about two different people in contrasting the 2001 auditions vs. those in 2007 and beyond. From what I recall other people saying, the tougher AP from 2001 was definitely female. (I wouldn't know from personal experience; I had a more "lenient" male AP leading my audition.) About more recent APs I have not the slightest clue.

[jaybee]

The memory of my September 2001 Boston interviewer is that she was female. I could be wrong. It was such a disaster that I've blocked most of the specifics out of my brain. There is no memory, for instance, of the person identifying themselves by name. And since I mostly saw only the top of their head because they were busier with picking up their coffee than with my completed application or me, I can't recall what he/she looked like.

I think we are talking about two different people in contrasting the 2001 auditions vs. those in 2007 and beyond. From what I recall other people saying, the tougher AP from 2001 was definitely female. (I wouldn't know from personal experience; I had a more "lenient" male AP leading my audition.) About more recent APs I have not the slightest clue.

Well, let's see.............

We had Jen - Skinny as a rail, darker, straight hair, chainsmoker.

- OR -
There was always Jen - Darker skin, long, curly dark hair

- OR -

It could have been Jen - Taller, blondish, wavy hair - very pretty.


Aside from their common name, none of them liked me.

[silvercamaro]

Aside from their common name, none of them liked me.

That's not possible!

[jaybee]

Aside from their common name, none of them liked me.

That's not possible!

Ah.......If only our shiney car lady was a BAM AP.

[silvercamaro]

Aside from their common name, none of them liked me.

That's not possible!

Ah.......If only our shiney car lady was a BAM AP.

Yeah, but then you'd be ineligible because you know me.