Heartbroken, I attended the audition nonetheless. I overslept and missed my appointment. It didn’t matter. Anyone could walk in and sign up anyway. It took place at Paddy’s Whack Irish Sports Club in Philly. I took a two-hour bus for you, my readers. It was a mixed crowd, and a lot of the individuals not the type I would envision would want to be on reality TV. It was a very informal audition. We went around the circle introducing ourselves and responding to questions I already had answered in the application. It felt somewhat like Alcoholics Anonymous. Not that I would know what that is like, or anything. Some people gave very mundane answers, while others were extreme in flaunting their crazy life styles and just how special they are. I kept it at an intermediate, assuring them that I don’t read, but also not going to kill anyone either.
My favorite response was by a twenty-two year old girl, Monica, who said, “I should be featured on the real world because I think I have the look for it and everyone always tells me I should be famous. I am always the center of attention and very open minded.” I wrote this down on my iPhone immediately, knowing it should be included as a good example response. Pretend this is the SAT. I have yet to be contacted by the casting directors, but they are still conducting castings in other states. The final step involved is the hardest, selling your soul to the devil. I had a chance to look at the standard contract those elected are forced to sign prior to going on the show. Two of my favorite points you must agree to are by participating you are accepting the risk of death or serious physical injury, and that other risks include non-consensual physical contact, which could result in you contracting an STD. You might seriously want to consider getting a lawyer.
I have attached a link to a copy of the standard MTV contract for your viewing pleasure, with the best parts highlighted.
