"Sure, what the hell," I said, and hung up laughing.My "audition" involved sipping a vodka tonic at a previously specified downtown bar while completing a questionnaire. I had never seen the show before, was just flipping through the channels, and saw the guy. The show, which featured neighbors redecorating each other's rooms and is often credited with jump-starting the home renovation boom in America, isn't the only returning fan-favorite: is also returning.Over the course of the date, the one guy or girl eliminates their dates until there's only one left." Ah, elimi DATE. This was the rundown given to me by Jane, an agent at a local casting company for extras.
Through the dense fog of my pot-addled perceptions, I came to a horrifying conclusion: every last person on these shows looks like a total asshole, and I was about to become one of them.
" Having just blown in the door from work, I was multitasking by returning phone calls while folding laundry in the room I share with my boyfriend, thinking about dinner and distinctly not looking for a date.
The proposition seemed too inappropriate to let slip.
Not giving a rat's ass whether I was chosen, and doubtful that I would be, I felt comfortable and cocky.
I wore a tarty sheer top with a bright red bra and showed no fear for the camera, or for speaking candidly about everything from whips to nipples. A few weeks later, after nearly dismissing the whole thing, one of the producers called to say I'd been selected as one of THE four girls--all but one of whom would wind up elimi DATEd.