the finer dandy

So if you read that again, it says was. Actually, I was just asked.

One day, in this post-lay off era, I decided to check my messages from my work phone (before they cut it off). Some dude left a message asking if I was interested in being a part of this “reality show” project.

He didn’t leave much information. In fact, he didn’t leave any information at all - only his phone number and a veiled chance for “15-minutes of fame” reality show stardom.

Needless to say, I was intrigued.

I called and he explained that they were starting a reality show that was like “Sex and the City” meets “The Hills” on a major cable television show network - and that’s all he could say.

Now if you dissect his explanation, neither of those shows are “reality.”

Right off the bat, I told him that I hated “The Hills” and that reality show has lost all meaning since the very first “Real World.” I was kind of being annoying and matter-of-factly.

That’s when he said, “That’s why I thought you’d be a good fit - I read an article of yours about reality shows.”

If he read the same reality show bashing article I was thinking of, then I have to admit I was kind of embarrassed. I wrote it a long time ago and it wasn’t exactly representative of my fabulousness today. (click here if you wanna read it.)

Then he said that my name was magically thrown into the hat for this reality show project. From who? He didn’t know.

I was skeptical and captivated all at once. Here I was, talking to some dude based out of L.A. about a show that had a very foggy concept that was going to be on a “major cable television” network that could’ve been Cinemax for all I know (later on, I told my sister about this proposition and she asked if it was porn and I, with a tinge of self-doubt, said no).

He continued this impromptu phone interview asking about my friends, what I did, etc…etc. Don’t worry, no social security numbers or blood types were given out.

He said he would send me an application and asked me to fill it out so we can “move on” with the process. If my application was good enough, I would be asked to be interviewed in a non-invasive setting.

So I filled it out and pondered about this chance at being on a reality show. For one, it could make me look like the biggest slut in the world and then advance my career to be a love-to-hate reality show character. Secondly, it would give me exposure and everyone could be jealous of me because I was on TV. Third, it could possibly be a paying gig!

Then I thought, “No Pulitzer Prize winning novelist was ever on a reality show.”

I was still captivated, but my interest started to wane. I just wanted to know what the fuck this show was about so I sent the “reality show recruiter man” weekly emails asking for updates. He would politely email back saying he couldn’t divulge any information.

Then, one fateful day, I got this email from him:

thanks for checking in. we just had a meeting with the network and we are moving on with other groups. we were so pleased to have you in the mix of our great network of fab san franciscans but sadly we’re going in another direction. i wish you all the best and if anything changes i’ll let you know.

Busted. Either I wasn’t cool enough, or I wasn’t trashy enough. Or maybe I wasn’t dramatic enough. Or maybe I wasn’t scandalous enough. Maybe I was just freaking boring. Also, I think my “old” age of 29 may have been too much for them.

Alas, the reality show I was never on. I felt kind of defeated, but at least I know someone is noticing me.

A couple of days later, while I was at that Sarah Jessica Parker event at Macy’s, someone said, “I heard MTV is doing some sort of ‘Hills’ reality show in the marina in San Francisco - it’s sounds like a really dumb idea.”

Hmmmm…I wonder if it was the one I tried out for. Nonetheless, I either lost an opportunity to be famous or gained more opportunity to protect my integrity.

I am gonna go with the latter.