The path to this moment was winding, the battles hard-fought. Yet all roads led me here, and I am grateful to have braved the journey. After two years of frantic guessing attempts and patient looks of concern from my more intelligent team members, I can now say I have made a positive contribution to The Quizzical Queefs, by knowing the answer to one single question.
Many of you know me as the player who boosts morale. I am not here for my knowledge; I am here to clap very hard when you succeed. I am here to keep the small talk alive because everyone else is too locked in that they forget how to socialize. I am here to ask, “Should we get mozzarella sticks?” Therefore, as I stand here today, being recognized for the unimaginable, I am just as surprised as you are.
After suffering through impenetrable categories like History, Geography, and the ever-vexing Bodies of Water, I was resigned to my station. The only category where I excel within my team is penmanship. And even then, my spelling is so bad, I’m technically not even allowed to write the answers on the little answer slips anymore.
So when the trivia host asked, “In what state did The Blair Witch Project take place?” what emboldened me to seize the moment? The only explanation I have is: God was in the room with me. That, and I had just re-watched The Blair Witch Project a week prior. Without hesitation, I snatched the pen, wrote Maryland, and circled the highest possible bid of ten points. It was bold, and it was the biggest thrill in the world.
In hindsight, I understand how my whole life built up to that moment—years of guzzling down horror movies alone at home, and alone in theaters, and on my iPad and on airplanes, was in fact helpful and productive behavior all along. And my years of flailing at bar trivia (which my team members probably only kept inviting me along to out of pity) was, in fact, critical preparation. I had been training all along to achieve the impossible.
I’d like to thank my teammate Gerald for recognizing something in me enough to let me yank the pen out of his hand. Gerald, I admire your leadership and your trivia prowess. Whenever I need a shoulder to lean on or a capital city that starts with Z, I know exactly where to turn. I share this honor with you.
Sorry I have to read the rest of this because I don’t want to forget to thank anybody and I don’t know the next time I’ll get a question right! Thank you, Michaela, for hosting such a fun trivia event. I always get a little bit star-struck when you come say hi to our table, even if it’s just to ask for your pen back. And thank you, bar staff, for always refilling my ginger ale, even though you probably wish I ordered something more expensive to drink.
Thank you to my parents for letting me watch horror movies way too early in life because it was easier than arguing with me about it. I know I must have been concerning as a weird little kid who was especially mesmerized by found footage horror, but I’m so glad that I was able to finally apply my knowledge in the real world. I only ever wanted to make you proud. Eh, I guess if I really wanted to make you proud I probably would have committed literally any other type of information to memory.
I’d also like to thank the Blair Witch franchise, except Book of Shadows which sorta sucked.
And to the rest of the Quizzical Queefs, it is your dedication to the game that continues to motivate and inspire me, Tuesday night after Tuesday night. Whether we get ranch or bleu cheese with our 24-piece wing appetizer, your love and support are a constant in my life. I cannot imagine splitting a bar tab 6-ways via Venmo with anyone else in the world.
And above all, I’d like to thank God for His wonderful plan.
Sorry, no I didn’t hear the next question either—I was busy delivering my acceptance speech. Want me to go ask the host to repeat it?
