The extent of my winning any contest in my lifetime has been incredibly small to the point of near extinction. I won a hula hoop contest a few years back because I was the one with the biggest hips, and the hula hoop wouldn’t fit over my butt to actually fall off, thus I won by error. In fact, I stood around that party the rest of the night with the hula hoop still on because I thought it doubled nicely as a recreational toy on one hand and a fashionable plastic belt. I could have taken a picture of that outfit, and people would have wondered, “Where did she get that lovely belt in that shade of pink?” I would have said something like, “Oh, it was thrifted. One of a kind you know.” Unfortunately I didn’t get a picture, so now we can’t have these real conversations that I’ve made up in my head.
Back to the real subject: I don’t win things. I have been determined to win something, however, in the past few months. Every day as I drive to work I listen to WRNR on the radio so that I can casually mention indie bands that no one has heard of in polite conversation. WRNR gives me that opportunity as they play the most random and obscure music known to mankind. They also give me the opportunity to call into their show to win tickets to cool shows and concerts. They had tickets for the Death Cab for Cutie sold out show in DC, but I was too slow to get those. Often what the announcer will say is, “Aaaand the tenth caller to reach me will win these awesome tickets along with the fulfillment of their craziest dreams!” Really, it is something I desperately want. Tickets to an awesome show and my wildest dreams granted? Booyah!
A few times before I have actually gotten through to the station instead of just getting a busy signal. One instance involved the phone ringing, me about to pee my pants, and then this: “You are the first caller, please try again!” WHHHHAAAATTT??? The first caller. Lame sauce.
This story does get better, believe me. Yesterday I was driving to work and the announcer on the show mentioned that he had tickets to the sold out Amos Lee show for the tenth caller. Of course I picked up my phone and used my speed dial to call the radio station multiple times. On my third or fourth dial I got a ringing instead of the dial tone. My heart jumped in my chest as the phone was answered on the other end. “You just won yourself a pair of tickets to see Amos Lee in concert at the 930 Club and to meet him beforehand,” the voice casually said.
Yes, I just won my first pair of tickets from WRNR. And believe me, it won’t be the last time.
Also, I get to meet Amos Lee! What?
I asked my sister if she liked Amos Lee, and she responded with a “Who?” That’s right. I know obscure music. I shall life my nose in the air now and pretend that I am better than you.