Survivor Recap: Not a Flicker of Hope for Flicka

Yesterday after work, as I headed for my humble abode, I was almost tucked into the entrance of the subway when I was enticed by a sidewalk solicitor with favorite words—free. And attached to the other end of it were tickets. No sooner were the words introduced to the cold New York City air, did I stop in my tracks and like Pavlov’s dog, make an about face in the direction of the lady who released them.

“Did you say free?” I asked with bated breath.
“Yes,” she said. “Right now there’s a taping of ESPN’s Quite Frankly.”
Wow, I like that show. “How long does it last?” I implored.
“About an hour,” she said.
“That means I’ll get out around 7:30?” I pressed further.
“Yeah,” annoyed by all the questions.

Damnit, I thought, as I made my way through the scrambling nameless faces, and descended into the subway. I wouln’t get back in time enough to watch Survivor at 8pm.

An hour or so later, the much hyped seventh episode had come and gone. All I can say is even though the taping I missed was free, for watching this episode, CBS, you owe me. Last night’s episode was wack! Those of you who watched it know exactly what I mean. For those of you missed it, shout hip, hip, horray, but don’t worry, I’m still here for ya, read on…

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