What If Contest Winner

A hearty congratulations goes to Pamela Drummond of Fullerton, CA who crafted this clever piece for our "What If" Contest. Here were the instructions:

What if your description and photo appeared on America's Most Wanted and you hadn't done it. You had never even heard of the city in which the crime took place. How would you feel and what would you do?

Being Wanted

By Pamela Drummond

What an ugly low-life creature. I un-muted America’s Most Wanted (AMW to addicts of the show like myself.) This actress playing the woman was ugly with a capital “U,” but she looked oddly familiar. She’d held up a convenience store in Mudville, Mississippi. What scum.

The story unfolded, then the announcer showed up on screen and pleaded with the public to catch this despicable woman.  I grabbed my pen and paper as her real-life photo and name flashed on the screen. The grainy image looked even more familiar than the actress. I jotted the name down, “Pam Drummond.” That looked familiar, too.

Wait! That’s my name. I squinted at the screen. That was my driver’s license picture. I bolted upright and looked around. What were they doing with my picture and name? Where was Mudville? I’d never even heard of it.

I dashed across the room, closed the blinds, and turned off the porch light. I lived in California. I’d never even been to Mississippi. And why had they used such an ugly actress to portray me? I was an award winning LA real estate agent, for goodness sakes. I didn’t even shop in convenience stores.

I peeked out the blinds. Across the street, Gladys Milford’s eyes bulged as our gazes met, and she yanked her curtains shut. She’d be on the phone to AMW faster than speed-dry nail polish. The police and camera crews would be here within the hour. I glanced down. I couldn’t be arrested on national television looking like this.

I ran to my bedroom, shutting lights off as I went. I wrenched open my closet and pulled out my new Dior pantsuit and matching Prada shoes. I pitched them on the bed in route to the bathroom to plug in my curling iron. Surely they’d send policemen who looked good on camera. I looked in the mirror and pulled the lines around my eyes flat and made pouty lips. I hoped they didn’t believe that I looked like that horrible actress AMW picked to play me.

Twenty minutes later, the outfit was on with the shoes in place over taupe control-top pantyhose. My hair was done and my makeup had never looked better. I’d turned the bell off on the incessantly ringing phone so it wouldn’t drown out the Yanni CD that played in the background for ambiance. I lit a few candles and wondered if the bright camera lights would ruin the soft glow they created on my newly decorated living room. As tires screeched and flashing lights leaked through the blinds, I remembered to put the picture of my mother and her newest husband on the mantle. I’d never hear the end of it if she realized I displayed it out only when she visited.

As the door burst open, I grabbed my business cards. Never miss a chance at a sale – that was my motto.

The camera lights blazed, and I flashed my most dazzling smile.