THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

for a TV hosty type.
  1. Agent calls, says I have an audition for some top-secret new show.
    It's network prime time! I have been burned before, and I'm kind of transitioning out of this kind of thing, but I go to citibankonline.com and I say: there could be more numbers in here. Okay, I'm in.
  2. I go to the audition and the waiting room is various Bachelors and Big Brother housepeople and Radio Disney DJs.
    When I first moved to LA, it was me and Danny Bonaduce and Todd Newton and Mark DeCarlo.
  3. In the room, I find out the show is some kind of extreme something. Like you have to learn ballroom dances and there are snakes on you. Or they bury you alive for a month and then you answer pop culture trivia questions.
    Eeesh. Still: bank account numbers.
  4. The casting people are like: improvise a situation you might see on this show. Go.
    Oh, so: write your show for you? Sure. Gotta earn the parking validation somehow.
  5. I get a callback and a rough script.
    And the producers are there and they give me valuable feedback like: "you're talking like the audience is ten feet away. Talk like the audience is four feet away." Or: "Our demographic is Influencers, so keep that in mind and go again."
  6. I go through the motions enthusiastically and drive home thinking: fuck these people and their garbage extreme show.
    Fuck them right in the dick.
  7. I buy a sample LSAT book at Barnes & Noble on the way back.
    Options.
  8. A week or so later, I find out they have cast Alphonso Ribeiro or Kellan Lutz or, like, Jodie Foster or whatever.
    Stunt casting! Buzz!
  9. I think: well, dammit. I would have crushed that show.
    I have a lot of fucking nerve.
  10. Agent calls.
    Network, you say? Prime time? I'll be right there.