I have unnaturally good luck to the point where I have never even needed to memorize the rules to poker because I just get a full house right away every single time I need it. It’s kind of like how Jodie Sweetin has never had to learn how to play a character that isn’t Stephanie Tanner because she just gets a Full House every single time she needs it. Except the main difference is that I’ve never done pants off dance off. We haven’t forgotten, Jodie. And we never will.
My winning streak was discovered by my mom at a very young age and she wasted no time exploiting me for radio contests to win useless prizes that absolutely nobody in the universe ever asked for. I won one radio contest by submitting an essay about why The Lion King was my favorite movie, which, now that I think about it I couldn’t tell you if it really was my favorite movie because I distinctly remember loving Aladdin and Rocky Horror way more. (I had a weird childhood.) I also couldn’t tell you what I wrote at all. In fact, I can’t necessarily promise that I actually wrote it and that it wasn’t just my mom pretending that I wrote it while submitting some of her own work disguised in a 5-year-old’s handwriting.
Anyway, I (or possibly my mom) won the contest and then found out that the prize was a yearly subscription to a magazine. Which is a terrible prize. Even when I was a kid at the dentist about to have someone drill into my teeth, being in that waiting room with no form of entertainment except for a stack of magazines was the most painful part of the day. I’d walk into the office with the dentist after 30 minutes of Highlights magazines, he would say, “Now you might feel some pain,” and I’d think to myself, “Well, at least I’ll feel something.” Having so easily won a completely useless prize made me feel like the girl that sings I Speak Six Languages from Spelling Bee, except I’m not athletic, not musically gifted, and can barely speak one.
The radio contest was the beginning of my competitive streak and the catalyst for waking up the spirit of the ancient goddess Monica hidden within me. (Speaking of course of the Goddess of the kitchen and cleanliness, the goddess of competition, she whose battlecry rings clean and clear across the night sky, as her enemies hear, “..I KNOW!”) From then on I would use my competitive powers only for good. And by “good” I do mean buying someone back into the game of Monopoly after they lose just so that I can keep winning for a longer period of time. What? It’s called being charitable. Try it some time.
Ryan C. Robert is the writer of multiple comedy blogs, most of which are satirical and self-deprecating. He writes about his life in his personal essay series "Before Color," parodies cooking blogs in "Trish's Dishes" and posts writing prompts every single day.