ONE DOLLAR BOB
Five days after I turned 30 years old, I tried to make my Grandmother's dream come true vicarioulsy through myself. That meant I had to come closest to the actual retail price without going over and the find myself giving Bob Barker a kiss on the cheek before playing plinko, trying to win a new car, a platinum baby crib, a safety tub, a pair of table lamps or some other weird household item geared towards the 30 to 90 year olds.
ONE DOLLAR, TWO DOLLAR, FOUR DOLLAR TOLL
I can too raise money. This is what I just learned. I help other people raise money all the time, like I did tonight at a fundraiser I helped out with in Oakland. I would rather write a 20 page grant proposal to an impenetrable institution than ask for some dough for my own projects and for my own benefit. But tonight I didn't have a choice. I was two bucks short for the Bay Bridge toll and had to hustle my ass or pay a ridiculous fine. Two cars behind me. One white sedan full of teenager guys, and one PT crusier with random white guy. 20 seconds.
Would you happen to have an extra dollar?
Is there any chance you have an extra dollar?
Sure I'll get change and bring you the $1 back.
It was like a price is right game for sure as I ran back and forth negotiating between the cars with traffic flying down the ramp towards us. I wish there was a big red button I could hit that would have told me if I was a winner. The toll worker gave me props at the end. "Most people wouldn't have the guts."
Send me to the showcase showdown. I'm looking for a trip to the great wall of china with a year's worth of perfume to boot.