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coryanotadoOriginally published at The Fast Money Round. You can comment here or there.
This article was started on September 16. Shows how much of a procrastinator I am. Enjoy, nonetheless.
Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to head up to New York and watch a taping of the new season of Who Wants to be a Millionaire? By the way, special thanks to Trisha, the audience coordinator and very gracious host, for dealing with me whilst I hung around the set all day.
I suppose this post will have two functions: one, to inform the reader of what exactly goes on at a taping of Millionaire; and two (and this point has two sub-points), to explain the changes that have been made to the show while explaining that no, they are not in fact gay, stupid, or ill-concieved.
First, a recap of the trip. I woke up at a bright and early hour and made my way to 30th Street Station. I booked a BoltBus the night before (thank you for fronting the money for me, Liz!) and waited patiently for the bus. Now, the stop for this bus isn’t special; there’s not a shelter or anything. It’s just a sign on the rickety 30th Street bridge between Market and Chestnut, behind the Post Office. When a truck passed on it, the whole thing rumbled. Eventually, the bus showed up and I sat down. Boy, I’m taking BoltBus more often. They have power outlets on every seat and WiFi on the bus. I should’ve taken my laptop, damnit.
Well, one Preston and Steve podcast later, I woke up in Manhattan at 6th and Canal, with 30 minutes to get to 67th and Columbus. Of course, that is when I realized that I was sorely under-prepared to traverse the Big Apple. All I knew was, I could catch the 1 uptown to Columbus Circle and maybe run from there. I managed to get above ground with 10 minutes at 66th and Columbus. So, the view that Manhattenites got was a fat kid running down 67th Street at a very, very slow pace. (As an aside, I think I skip faster than I can run, cementing my place as the world’s manliest 6-year-old girl.) Eventually, I reached ABC Studios where Kevin, a young man in a headset, assumed that the portly gentlemen lunging toward him was the one who was late for his guaranteed seat in Studio 2 and asked if I was Cory. I assured him, out of breath, that I was, and he signed me in and directed me to the studio.
