The Trivia Game (with Erin Barber)
He said
I’ve always been pretty good at trivia games. I know all the stuff that everyone else knows and a lot of the
stuff that very few people know. Let me give you some examples. Did you know that George Grant invented
the golf tee? Did you know that the host of TVs “Science Fiction Theater” was Truman Bradley? Or that
baking soda and albumen are two bases commonly found in the kitchen? I didn’t think so. That’s what I
mean.
Listen. I’m not bragging. It’s just that that’s how it is. I remember stuff. I don’t know why I do, I just do. The
problem is that it’s never gotten me anywhere. I mean, here I am, twenty-six years old, still a clerk at Barnes
& Noble, no friends, no woman, and no future.
It’s not that I’m particularly smart. My IQ is an even 120 – above average, but hardly in the genius range.
Still, I’ve gone head to head with college professors on NTN games – you know, those trivia games they
play in bars – and blown them away. Shit, their schools wouldn’t even let me in the door. I was lucky to get
into Central. Would have been even luckier if I had stuck around long enough to graduate. Oh well. What
the hell.
I hate my job, but it could be worse. Actually, it’s not really the job I hate so much. It’s my boss, MIZ Perlman.
She’s in her mid-twenties and has a bod like J-Lo, but she’s absolutely nuts. Talk about a power trip – this
broad must be pushing for CEO of the whole damned company. Pick, pick, pick. Do this Anthony, do that
Anthony. She calls me “Anthony.” God I hate that. I usually hide from her over in the self-help section where
she can’t see me.
I don’t care so much about not having friends. It’s not having a girlfriend that bothers me. I never thought I’d
wind up a twenty-six year old virgin.
Oh, I’ve had dates. Always first dates, never second dates. What the hell’s wrong with me?
She said
I should have found a way to go to Colgate. I know my folks couldn’t afford it, even with the partial
scholarship, but the reason I’m stuck in such a shitty job now is that I had to settle for going to Central.
What company hires Central graduates anyhow? Just two that I know of – McDonald’s and Barnes & Noble.
What a fascinating career for a Dean’s list graduate.
I’ve been at Barnes & Noble for about two years now. The pay isn’t horrible, but the job itself is incredibly
tedious. I thought I might at least enjoy being surrounded by books; unfortunately, there is never time to
read them, only time to unpack them. I almost quit after three months, had my resignation letter typed and
all, but then I realized my landlord required me to pay my rent; It wasn’t optional. So, I decided that if I had to
be here, I might as well do the best I can. Follow the old adage, “It doesn’t matter what you do as long as
you do your best.”
There is one benefit to the job: Anthony Hammond. The other employees call him Tony, but I always call
him Anthony. I like the way it rolls off my tongue almost as much as I like the way his butt looks in those work
slacks that are just a half-size too small. I’ve noticed him looking at me from time to time, but he has never
approached me in a personal way. You don’t suppose he’s afraid of me, do you?
I’m a traditional girl who would never ask a guy out on a date, so I keep trying to find ways to give him the
chance to ask me. I always schedule him on my shift, I am constantly creating small jobs for him to do so we
can talk, and I “check” his work often in order to talk some more. But, I don’t want to invade his privacy in
any way, so I always leave him alone when he goes to the self-help section, which he does quite often. How
rare is it to find a guy who is constantly trying to improve himself?
He is also quite bright. Anytime a customer has a question about “Who authored that novel?” or what is
“that thing called that they built in that place?” Anthony seems to know. I checked his employee file once to
see where he went to college and found out that he went to Central too. He probably had the same financial
problem I did. I’m sure we have a lot in common. I wonder why he won’t ask me out. What’s wrong with me?
He said
Whoa! NTN Challenge Night at the Jackson Grill. A hundred bucks first prize. Man, I can use it, too. Wonder
if there’ll be anyone there who might give me a run?
Nah.
It’s pretty neat the way they set up the game. We start out with ten people in two “leagues.” After each
game the bottom scorer in each league drops out. The final two in each league play each other, and then
the grand champion is decided by the two top players in each league going head to head. This is going to
be fun. Easy money.
She said
Another Friday night alone. I suppose I could always go out with Beth and her boyfriend, but it is rather
embarrassing being the third wheel. Still, it is even worse being at home when my mother calls to let me
know she just doesn’t understand why “your sister never had a problem meeting men and you’ve been
single forever.” That conversation is a fate worse than death. Ok, ok, I’ll call Beth.
So, we’re on for tonight. Going to a place called Jackson Grill. At least I’ll have a good meal. It feels pretty
pointless cooking for one, so I usually sit in front of the TV with a bowl of ramen or a grilled cheese
sandwich.
Beth tells me to grab a table; she has to run to the bathroom, and of course Rick, her boyfriend, must wait
for her at the door. I scan the crowd and notice a table in the back corner. I walk over thinking the fewer
people who see me being the tag-a-long, the better. Hardly anyone could see us from there. I put my coat
down on the table and go back to tell Rick where it is. Rick asks me to grab a few NTN boxes. I’m not sure
what they are, but when I ask the waiter, he seems to know exactly what I’m talking about and brings them to
me.
I sit back down at the table and Beth and Rick join me almost immediately. They tell me how to enter my
name and seem really excited about some tournament tonight. I grudgingly do as they say. I could sure use
the hundred bucks they keep talking about.
He said
I always show up just before the game starts. The fewer people I have to talk to, the better. I take my usual
seat at the bar and say my hellos to the other NTN regulars. A few of the guys say they may as well leave if
I’m playing, but I know they’re just messing with me and no one really gets mad that I almost always win.
When the game begins, the frenzied atmosphere of the bar vanishes and there is an almost immediate
silence.
I, of course, make it through the first nine rounds half-asleep. I almost feel bad for these guys. They try so
hard and I easily win by at least a thousand points every time. I can feel the check in my hand. I still have
one last game, but really, it’s just a formality.
She said
The game is actually pretty fun. Or maybe it’s the winning that’s fun. Beth and Rick fell out on the third and
fourth rounds respectively. For the last five, I have transformed from the third wheel to the center of
attention. I guess it is almost as exciting for people to personally know the winner as it is for them to be the
winner. Rick tells me I only have one game left and if I win that one, I’ll be one hundred dollars richer. I
laughingly reply, “No problem. Dinner’s on me.”
So far I have pretty much annihilated the competition. How much better could the other player be? I was
ready for him. I had my game face on. Nothing could take this win from me.
He said
The last game’s started. By the third question, I realize this won’t be an easy win. Where the hell did this
BOOKER guy come from? I’ve been playing here for two years and I’ve never seen that NTN handle before.
Shit, question four and he’s ahead by four hundred points. I need to concentrate.
She said
Maybe the win won’t be as easy as I thought. This SPADE character is pretty smart. By question eight, I was
only ahead by two hundred points and that’s not a very safe lead. Who the hell is this guy?
I asked Beth to go scope out my competition. When she comes back, her face is flushed and her words
almost unintelligible: “It’s him! The one from your work! The cute one! Him! That one!”
“Slow down and tell me who the hell you are talking about, Beth.”
“It’s the guy you like. What’s his name? Anthony. Yep, that’s his name. Anthony.”
He said
I was getting pretty pissed until someone said it was a really hot chick I was playing against. I guess that
would have made some guys even more angry, but all I could think was that she must be a pretty incredible
girl to have both looks and brains. Maybe my freak gift of trivia knowledge will actually do something for me
this time. I may lose the game, but taking home a girl would be a helluva lot better than a little check.
Only two questions left and she’s up by three hundred points. But, HA, I just closed the gap with question
fourteen. Babylonian history. No one messes with me and Babylonian history. Only a hundred points
separate us now. It’s anyone’s game. One last question.
She said
No. It can’t be. What do I do? Does he know it’s me on the other end? We only have one more question and
I’m in the lead. I don’t know what to do. I’d really like to win, but I’d much rather go home with him. Most guys
don’t like a girl who beats them. Well, that’s the only answer. I have to let him win. I’ve spent too much time
waiting and praying for him to ask me out to go ahead and blow it now all because of some stupid game.
I’ll blow the last question. He’ll come over and say hi. Tell me it was a good game and that I gave him a run
for his money. He’ll know that I’m smart, but he’ll still feel “manly.”
Here is the last question: Which Norwegian expressionist painter created The Scream in 1893?
Of course I know it’s Edvard Munch. I am quite possibly his biggest fan. I fell in love with “Four Girls on a
Bridge” when I was eight. I had traveled to New York by bus two summers ago and slept at the Y just to see
the exhibit of his work.
But, I answer Monet because I had already decided to win the man, not the game. It sounds silly, but I felt
like I was betraying Mr. Munch with that intentional mistake.
He said
I won. I won a hundred bucks! I can’t believe she missed that one. How can you miss that one? Munch is
only the greatest artist to have ever lived. What kind of an idiot doesn’t know who he is? I have prints of all
his paintings. Those prints are the only decorating I bothered to do in my apartment. I can’t believe I
thought this girl was the “one for me.” I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who didn’t appreciate art.
What the hell would we have in common? I’m out of here, with my check. Jesus. I still can’t believe she didn’t
know. She may be pretty (from what the guys at the bar say,) and she may be smart, but I can’t bring myself
to waste my time with someone that ignorant about art.
That may sound stupid, but I don’t care. I remember that my brother wouldn’t date a girl because she was a
democrat. It’s not that different. It just depends on what’s important to you.
As I’m walking out the door, I notice the girl in the middle of the crowd shaking hands and saying “thanks, it
was close.” It was Ms. Perlman. That’s settled. I won’t waste my time with her no matter how hot she is. It’s
funny to think how different I would feel about her right now if she had known the answer. Maybe I wouldn’t
be going home alone.
She said
He just walked out. I let him win and he left. And I know that he saw it was me, too. Not even a “good game.”
What a jerk. I guess I was wrong about him. What do they say? “Live and learn.” Yep, that’s it.
Thank God, I do the schedule. I won’t have to see him anymore. And to think, I threw a question about
something, no someone, who is so important to me. Well, at least now I know he’s an ass and I won’t waste
any more of my time thinking about him. I guess things always work out the way they’re supposed to; don’t
they?
I’ve always been pretty good at trivia games. I know all the stuff that everyone else knows and a lot of the
stuff that very few people know. Let me give you some examples. Did you know that George Grant invented
the golf tee? Did you know that the host of TVs “Science Fiction Theater” was Truman Bradley? Or that
baking soda and albumen are two bases commonly found in the kitchen? I didn’t think so. That’s what I
mean.
Listen. I’m not bragging. It’s just that that’s how it is. I remember stuff. I don’t know why I do, I just do. The
problem is that it’s never gotten me anywhere. I mean, here I am, twenty-six years old, still a clerk at Barnes
& Noble, no friends, no woman, and no future.
It’s not that I’m particularly smart. My IQ is an even 120 – above average, but hardly in the genius range.
Still, I’ve gone head to head with college professors on NTN games – you know, those trivia games they
play in bars – and blown them away. Shit, their schools wouldn’t even let me in the door. I was lucky to get
into Central. Would have been even luckier if I had stuck around long enough to graduate. Oh well. What
the hell.
I hate my job, but it could be worse. Actually, it’s not really the job I hate so much. It’s my boss, MIZ Perlman.
She’s in her mid-twenties and has a bod like J-Lo, but she’s absolutely nuts. Talk about a power trip – this
broad must be pushing for CEO of the whole damned company. Pick, pick, pick. Do this Anthony, do that
Anthony. She calls me “Anthony.” God I hate that. I usually hide from her over in the self-help section where
she can’t see me.
I don’t care so much about not having friends. It’s not having a girlfriend that bothers me. I never thought I’d
wind up a twenty-six year old virgin.
Oh, I’ve had dates. Always first dates, never second dates. What the hell’s wrong with me?
She said
I should have found a way to go to Colgate. I know my folks couldn’t afford it, even with the partial
scholarship, but the reason I’m stuck in such a shitty job now is that I had to settle for going to Central.
What company hires Central graduates anyhow? Just two that I know of – McDonald’s and Barnes & Noble.
What a fascinating career for a Dean’s list graduate.
I’ve been at Barnes & Noble for about two years now. The pay isn’t horrible, but the job itself is incredibly
tedious. I thought I might at least enjoy being surrounded by books; unfortunately, there is never time to
read them, only time to unpack them. I almost quit after three months, had my resignation letter typed and
all, but then I realized my landlord required me to pay my rent; It wasn’t optional. So, I decided that if I had to
be here, I might as well do the best I can. Follow the old adage, “It doesn’t matter what you do as long as
you do your best.”
There is one benefit to the job: Anthony Hammond. The other employees call him Tony, but I always call
him Anthony. I like the way it rolls off my tongue almost as much as I like the way his butt looks in those work
slacks that are just a half-size too small. I’ve noticed him looking at me from time to time, but he has never
approached me in a personal way. You don’t suppose he’s afraid of me, do you?
I’m a traditional girl who would never ask a guy out on a date, so I keep trying to find ways to give him the
chance to ask me. I always schedule him on my shift, I am constantly creating small jobs for him to do so we
can talk, and I “check” his work often in order to talk some more. But, I don’t want to invade his privacy in
any way, so I always leave him alone when he goes to the self-help section, which he does quite often. How
rare is it to find a guy who is constantly trying to improve himself?
He is also quite bright. Anytime a customer has a question about “Who authored that novel?” or what is
“that thing called that they built in that place?” Anthony seems to know. I checked his employee file once to
see where he went to college and found out that he went to Central too. He probably had the same financial
problem I did. I’m sure we have a lot in common. I wonder why he won’t ask me out. What’s wrong with me?
He said
Whoa! NTN Challenge Night at the Jackson Grill. A hundred bucks first prize. Man, I can use it, too. Wonder
if there’ll be anyone there who might give me a run?
Nah.
It’s pretty neat the way they set up the game. We start out with ten people in two “leagues.” After each
game the bottom scorer in each league drops out. The final two in each league play each other, and then
the grand champion is decided by the two top players in each league going head to head. This is going to
be fun. Easy money.
She said
Another Friday night alone. I suppose I could always go out with Beth and her boyfriend, but it is rather
embarrassing being the third wheel. Still, it is even worse being at home when my mother calls to let me
know she just doesn’t understand why “your sister never had a problem meeting men and you’ve been
single forever.” That conversation is a fate worse than death. Ok, ok, I’ll call Beth.
So, we’re on for tonight. Going to a place called Jackson Grill. At least I’ll have a good meal. It feels pretty
pointless cooking for one, so I usually sit in front of the TV with a bowl of ramen or a grilled cheese
sandwich.
Beth tells me to grab a table; she has to run to the bathroom, and of course Rick, her boyfriend, must wait
for her at the door. I scan the crowd and notice a table in the back corner. I walk over thinking the fewer
people who see me being the tag-a-long, the better. Hardly anyone could see us from there. I put my coat
down on the table and go back to tell Rick where it is. Rick asks me to grab a few NTN boxes. I’m not sure
what they are, but when I ask the waiter, he seems to know exactly what I’m talking about and brings them to
me.
I sit back down at the table and Beth and Rick join me almost immediately. They tell me how to enter my
name and seem really excited about some tournament tonight. I grudgingly do as they say. I could sure use
the hundred bucks they keep talking about.
He said
I always show up just before the game starts. The fewer people I have to talk to, the better. I take my usual
seat at the bar and say my hellos to the other NTN regulars. A few of the guys say they may as well leave if
I’m playing, but I know they’re just messing with me and no one really gets mad that I almost always win.
When the game begins, the frenzied atmosphere of the bar vanishes and there is an almost immediate
silence.
I, of course, make it through the first nine rounds half-asleep. I almost feel bad for these guys. They try so
hard and I easily win by at least a thousand points every time. I can feel the check in my hand. I still have
one last game, but really, it’s just a formality.
She said
The game is actually pretty fun. Or maybe it’s the winning that’s fun. Beth and Rick fell out on the third and
fourth rounds respectively. For the last five, I have transformed from the third wheel to the center of
attention. I guess it is almost as exciting for people to personally know the winner as it is for them to be the
winner. Rick tells me I only have one game left and if I win that one, I’ll be one hundred dollars richer. I
laughingly reply, “No problem. Dinner’s on me.”
So far I have pretty much annihilated the competition. How much better could the other player be? I was
ready for him. I had my game face on. Nothing could take this win from me.
He said
The last game’s started. By the third question, I realize this won’t be an easy win. Where the hell did this
BOOKER guy come from? I’ve been playing here for two years and I’ve never seen that NTN handle before.
Shit, question four and he’s ahead by four hundred points. I need to concentrate.
She said
Maybe the win won’t be as easy as I thought. This SPADE character is pretty smart. By question eight, I was
only ahead by two hundred points and that’s not a very safe lead. Who the hell is this guy?
I asked Beth to go scope out my competition. When she comes back, her face is flushed and her words
almost unintelligible: “It’s him! The one from your work! The cute one! Him! That one!”
“Slow down and tell me who the hell you are talking about, Beth.”
“It’s the guy you like. What’s his name? Anthony. Yep, that’s his name. Anthony.”
He said
I was getting pretty pissed until someone said it was a really hot chick I was playing against. I guess that
would have made some guys even more angry, but all I could think was that she must be a pretty incredible
girl to have both looks and brains. Maybe my freak gift of trivia knowledge will actually do something for me
this time. I may lose the game, but taking home a girl would be a helluva lot better than a little check.
Only two questions left and she’s up by three hundred points. But, HA, I just closed the gap with question
fourteen. Babylonian history. No one messes with me and Babylonian history. Only a hundred points
separate us now. It’s anyone’s game. One last question.
She said
No. It can’t be. What do I do? Does he know it’s me on the other end? We only have one more question and
I’m in the lead. I don’t know what to do. I’d really like to win, but I’d much rather go home with him. Most guys
don’t like a girl who beats them. Well, that’s the only answer. I have to let him win. I’ve spent too much time
waiting and praying for him to ask me out to go ahead and blow it now all because of some stupid game.
I’ll blow the last question. He’ll come over and say hi. Tell me it was a good game and that I gave him a run
for his money. He’ll know that I’m smart, but he’ll still feel “manly.”
Here is the last question: Which Norwegian expressionist painter created The Scream in 1893?
Of course I know it’s Edvard Munch. I am quite possibly his biggest fan. I fell in love with “Four Girls on a
Bridge” when I was eight. I had traveled to New York by bus two summers ago and slept at the Y just to see
the exhibit of his work.
But, I answer Monet because I had already decided to win the man, not the game. It sounds silly, but I felt
like I was betraying Mr. Munch with that intentional mistake.
He said
I won. I won a hundred bucks! I can’t believe she missed that one. How can you miss that one? Munch is
only the greatest artist to have ever lived. What kind of an idiot doesn’t know who he is? I have prints of all
his paintings. Those prints are the only decorating I bothered to do in my apartment. I can’t believe I
thought this girl was the “one for me.” I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who didn’t appreciate art.
What the hell would we have in common? I’m out of here, with my check. Jesus. I still can’t believe she didn’t
know. She may be pretty (from what the guys at the bar say,) and she may be smart, but I can’t bring myself
to waste my time with someone that ignorant about art.
That may sound stupid, but I don’t care. I remember that my brother wouldn’t date a girl because she was a
democrat. It’s not that different. It just depends on what’s important to you.
As I’m walking out the door, I notice the girl in the middle of the crowd shaking hands and saying “thanks, it
was close.” It was Ms. Perlman. That’s settled. I won’t waste my time with her no matter how hot she is. It’s
funny to think how different I would feel about her right now if she had known the answer. Maybe I wouldn’t
be going home alone.
She said
He just walked out. I let him win and he left. And I know that he saw it was me, too. Not even a “good game.”
What a jerk. I guess I was wrong about him. What do they say? “Live and learn.” Yep, that’s it.
Thank God, I do the schedule. I won’t have to see him anymore. And to think, I threw a question about
something, no someone, who is so important to me. Well, at least now I know he’s an ass and I won’t waste
any more of my time thinking about him. I guess things always work out the way they’re supposed to; don’t
they?
Trunk Novels
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