My Price Would Never Be Right

I found out recently that Bob Barker will finally retire from hosting “The Price is Right” game show, effective early this year. This is sad to me for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that watching the show always seemed to bring me back to my childhood. And why wouldn’t it? In the thirty plus years I’ve been watching it, nothing has ever changed. Same charming host, same gorgeous models, same idiot games, same ghastly stuck-in-the-sixties set, same moron contestants. Tuning in to The Price is Right is like going through a time warp. You could flip it on tomorrow and not be surprised if there were a news break announcing President Nixon was resigning from office, or that Challenger just exploded.

That said, I have always wanted to compete on the show, but only with Bob Barker as the host, which means I’ll probably never get the chance. This is just as well, because there is one part of the show I absolutely detest. During the opening segment, where contestants bid on one item to see who gets to play an idiot game, I hate, and I mean really loathe, when a contestant bids exactly one dollar more than the previous contestant. I root for the latter contestant to lose. I don’t know what I would do if I were the victim of that strategy. I’d probably kick the guy under the podiums:

Bob Barker: "The first item up for bid is a beautiful pool table by Snotwick Industries. Joe, what's your bid?"

Me: "One thousand, Bob."

Bob Barker: "And Fred, what is your bid?"

Fred: "One thousand and one, Bob."

Bob Barker: "And Martha, what--"

Fred: "OWWW!"

Bob Barker: "Um…uh, Martha, what is--"

Fred: "BOB! This jackass next to me is kicking me!!"

Me: "I don't know what he's talking about, Bob."

And I just know it wouldn’t end there. "One-Dollar-More" bidders always keep up their strategy, and I, being the stubborn mule I can be, would continue to give retribution. The second round:

Me (whispering to Fred): “If you outbid me by one dollar again, You’re going to find that microphone jammed right up your—"

Bob Barker: “The next item up for bid is a gorgeous set of American Terrorist luggage. Joe, what is your bid?”

Me: (Giving Fred a dirty sideways look) “Um, eight hundred, Bob.”

Bob Barker: "And Fred, what is your bid?"

Fred: (smugly) “eight hundred AND ONE, Bob.”

(The camera starts jerking wildly as you briefly see a fist connect with Fred’s jaw before complete pandemonium ensues. Podiums are knocked over. Martha gets clocked by a wild punch. After a commercial break order is restored.)

Bob Barker: “I apologize for the interruption. Martha, what is your bid on the luggage?”

Martha: (bleeding above her right eye) “Can I just go back to my seat?”

Martha may want to give up, but not me and Fred. The hate between us would make Osama bin Laden and George W Bush look like a happy gay couple. You would be able to cut the tension with a hacksaw. By the third round we’d both be ready to kill the other:

Bob Barker: "The next item up for bid is—"

Me (seething): “A BILLION DOLLARS, BOB!”

Bob Barker: "Wait, you don’t even know what—"

Fred (snarling): “A BILLION AND ONE, BOB!”

Bob Barker: "But that's way too mu—"

Me: “AAAAAUGGHHH! I’LL KILL YOU, YOU SON OF—"

(screen goes black)

So I guess I would never be a winning bidder. In fact, I would be lucky to avoid a felony charge. It’s just as well, because I’d probably also be a bitter winner. When I’m watching, it always cracks me up when the winner comes on stage and Bob Barker announces "you'll be playing for THIS!" Then the big door opens and the prize is something truly lame. You can always tell that the contestant was coached to act excited, no matter what it is. I don’t think I could do that. I’d have to be honest about the prize:

Me: “Bob, what the hell am I going to do with a Real Mahogany Sewing Table?”

Bob Barker: “Um, like the announcer said, you’ll surely get years of enjoyment—"

Me: “Bob, I’m a thirty-six year old bachelor! Why did the last contestant get a ‘New Car’ and I get stuck with this crap? I bet it isn’t even worth a hundred bucks!”

Fred, yelling from off camera: “I bid a hundred and ONE, Bob.”