The words flew from me like a man possessed; whoever this madman with the Ted Kaczynski beard and becoined dollar-store T-shirt was, he wasn't me. I don't scream, certainly not at someone I only just met.
I stood as one might wade in the ocean, looking back at the beach where the bright light casts a harsh sharpness on everyone. I bob and sway with the surf. It felt like a palpable thing, this surging emotion of hundreds of strangers corralled into the CBS studio. If just for a morning, we united in a common cause: that of unearned new wealth.
This is the part where I say I rose above the wave, and I alone in a sea of men, women, young and old, floated just high enough over the splashing to gain perspective. This is a game show after all, folks. We still have to maintain some dignity, right?