The security guards on the seventh floor of the Marriott on Michigan, near the end of their 18-hour day, were sick of getting yelled at. At 6 PM in the banquet hall behind them, employees of ABC TV had begun administering an aptitude test to the day’s third and final flight of would-be contestants for the new syndicated version of the game show Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. Now it was 6:05, and the guards were facing ten tardy pilgrims who had just straggled in. “Legally, we can’t let you go in there after six,” one security staffer repeatedly told an agitated man in bright white socks and sneakers. Then the guards spotted an ABC representative, sicced the latecomers on him, and leaned back in their sharp, sweaty black suits to laugh. “These people are fanatics,” one said. “I swear I saw the lady in the blue hat trying to get on to Springer last week.”
“You can’t sue them, can you?” asked a cohort.
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“What does it take to give a piece of paper to somebody?” said the guy with the white sneakers. “What if they take the test and they really excel?”
“Me too!” said the blue-hat lady. “I live in Aurora. I had to take a train and a bus to get here!”
“Student loans,” he said. “I’ve got like $50,000 in student loans. I would feel really silly being on the damn show, but if I could make a hundred grand for my family–I’ll be silly. I’m a poet, so I’ll never make any money.”
Mamajek finally wrote that she loved going to science fiction conventions, but continued to fidget until Terhune came stomping down the hall. He looked ready to break things after coping with the car, but his eyes lit up at the sight of his girlfriend. “You thought I was going to be the big winner, but here you are being interviewed!” he said, hugging her and jumping up and down. He wore a green Hawaiian shirt even brighter than her orange one.
