Have you ever watched a game show and thought to yourself, "Hey, I could do that!?"
Recently, my two friends and I got our chance to test our mettle. We ventured to Chicago for a shot at glory, the "brass ring," if you will. VH1 was holding auditions for an appearance on the "World Series of Pop Culture," a new game show that tests contestants' knowledge of 80s, 90s, and modern day pop culture.
Being pop culture connoisseurs, I thought we had an excellent shot, and fantasies of taking home the loot filled my head. "We're in like Flynn," I assumed. "We" being myself and my teammates, Handal and Alex. Our trio would be known as "The John Hughes High Alumni."
At the very least, we would make it past the regional in the Windy City and score a free trip to New York City for the tournament final. Appearing on cable television would be a blast, and the $250,000 prize money? The icing on the cake. We would be thousandaires!
The casting call would be Saturday at 9 a.m., at the hip W Hotel. We set up shop the night before at the Sheraton, turning in early to get our "beauty sleep." However, not much sleep was had. I was jacked up for the audition, and wondering how exactly the whole thing would go down. I was also wondering if the hotel bar would be open in the morning, as I was sure I would want an eye-opener. No sense in going to the audition "dry."
I was up by six, and ready to go. Not surprisingly, the hotel bar was closed at this early hour, so we settled for pastries and fruit. We hopped in a cab and made our way to the W, dressed James Spader-style in our white sport coats and polo shirts. It was freezing outside, but it did not matter: we were beginning our journey to cable television stardom.
Upon entering the lobby, my anxiety settled. There were 10-12 other groups of three, with everyone mingling. This created an easy-going atmosphere, and it was a trip seeing the other groups' outfits. "The Karate Kid" was a popular theme, with one group sporting Cobra Kai hoodies, and another wearing the complete Daniel-san karate uniform, complete with headbands. Suddenly, my white sport coat and pink shirt seemed tame.
After signing in, we were led upstairs to a conference room. The pop culture quiz was distributed in an envelope, and we took our seats, separate from our other group members. Before being allowed to open the envelope, the VH1 producers went over the rules with everyone. After a set period of time, the quizzes would be collected and graded. The groups that passed the quiz would then move on to on-camera interviews with the producers. They would then return Sunday, to play a mock-up of the game show, with the winner moving on to NYC for the real tournament.
At this time, we ripped open the envelopes and got to work. Now, we had to sign confidentiality agreements with VH1, promising not to write or blog about the specifics of their set up. Because I do not wish to be sued/executed by VH1, I will not divulge what was on the quiz.
After time expired, the quizzes were collected and graded. This gave the groups about 15 minutes to discuss the quiz, questions we got, questions we missed, etc. The gentleman to my left came from Michigan for his shot at glory. "At least we didn't drive that far" I thought.
The producers entered the room with the results, and everyone scurried back to their seat in anticipation. The high school classroom feel to this whole thing was palpable. "Alright," the woman said, "we have the results. Only one team made it to the interview."
I was a bit surprised by this development, but sure it was us. "The winning team is..." blah, blah, blah. I do not remember who won because it was not the John Hughes High Alumni. All I know, is, a rather large man jumped out of his seat and shouted, "Yessss!" He resembled the sarcastic "Comic Book Guy" from the Simpsons, but hey, his team got the job done.
Devastated, we stood up to leave. As I was standing up, I helped myself to the pen and paper clips that were on the table. On the way out of the conference room-to get a laugh out of my sad teammates-I told a VH1 guy that I had taken the pen. VH1 guy practically lunged at me, and said, "You have to put that back." I obliged, remembering that the paper clips were still in my pocket.
Heading back into the brutally cold Chicago day, my teammates and I walked the few blocks to our hotel ("We don't deserve a cab" was how Handal put it). The stench of failure was pungent back in the room, as Alex was on his cell phone to his brother, explaining that a planned celebratory trip to Vegas was off.
The day did improve from that point on. That hotel bar? It eventually opened. All in all, it was a good time, and I would recommend auditioning next year and testing your knowledge. Because even if you can't take VH1's prize money, at least you can take their paper clips.
