Okay, let's start with the fact that some meatball named Joey Stenucci wrote the Mercury calling me a "C-list opportunist". I mean, really. I thought I was at least a B-list opportunist.
Then I crammed my brains out because the planners of the Celebrity Spelling Bee gave us all a study guide with 900 FRIGGIN' WORDS, a large majority of them in German, which should have been the first tip off that this would be a cruel Nazi event.
So I was already a nervous wreck when I hit the stage and was joined by the other contestants, one of whom is the 8th grade statewide champion. Noting his cell phone on his hip, I leaned over to him and told him he would need to put it away as there would be no texting during the bee.
"That's not my cell phone," he said. "I'm diabetic."
Yes, I tried to take insulin away from a diabetic child. In front of 700 people.
So is it any wonder I choked--yes, choked--on my VERY FIRST WORD: cravat. Chances are they gave it to me figuring the gay guy would know his fashion terms, but they underestimated my innate pretentiousness, in which case I gayed it up to "cravatte."
My only consolation was that my buddy Courtenay Hameister also bombed out in the first round, panicking on whether there's an extra n in "buccaneer." There isn't.
Naturally, we sat out the rest of the bee knowing how to spell EVERYTHING else, including all the sadistic Nazi words like springerle, realschule and pfeffernuss.
Now I know why I've never done a spelling bee before. My only other consolation is the event raised $195,000 for School House Supplies, the worthy cause which provides school supplies to kids who can't afford them. By torturing C-list opportunists.