The Junk Drawer

I wrote on Monday that my sister Ann and I planned to audition for a spot on the reality show The Amazing Race.

With visions of stardom dancing in our heads, we drove to Lancaster, PA early Saturday to take our spot in line for the craziest thing we’ve done in our lives.

Finding the Place

Getting there was a breeze, thanks to Ann’s Garmin GPS, which gave us spot-on directions to the park where the audition was held. Problem was, there were no signs pointing us to the audition spot. We drove aimlessly for ten minutes, imagining if we were picked for the race, we’d be doing a lot of the same: driving around and around not finding anything.

Eventually, we spotted pairs of people walking toward a bandshell near the park’s entrance. We crash-landed the car, stuck our Amazing Race Pass in the window, and headed over to where a half dozen people had collected themselves.

You Slept Where?

Upon arrival, we chatted up other teams and marveled at how far some people traveled to get there. One team came from Rochester, NY and slept in their car in the park (!!!). Another sister team came in from their respective homes: one from California, the other from New York City. A brother/sister pair flew in from Florida and Georgia, respectively.

We thought our 1.5 hour trip was the shortest, until we met another team who rolled out of bed an hour before and drove five minutes to the park. The locals weren’t allowed to complain about anything.

Biding Our Time

The two-hour wait went fast because everybody in line was fun, friendly and excited to be there. What puzzled us was that only about 80 people showed up by start time. Ann and I expected 500 or more.

At one point, a dog belonging to one team ran up to me and started barking its blessed head off. I remembered what you guys advised me to do when this happens, and held out my arm and yelled “Stop!” Twice. Didn’t work. The dog kept barking until its owner came to retrieve it. Home, Lancaster, anywhere. Dogs apparently hate me.

An hour into the wait, a woman running the event instructed everyone who parked in the regular lot to move their cars to an area designated for a barbecue being held far away in another section of the park.

Everyone who had to move a car, including Ann, groaned as they grabbed their car keys. But as they returned from moving their cars, those of us still in line cheered them on back to imaginary checkpoint mats, just like we’d do on the race.

Ann came in third out of a dozen people. Way to go, Ann! Maybe we wouldn’t get eliminated after the first leg!

Assessing the Others

While waiting, you can’t help but size up the other teams to see where you stand against them. The brother/sister team, who I could see getting picked for the show, were in excellent shape, gregarious, and attractive. The camera would love them. Another sister team sounded like they’ve been everywhere and seen everything. One is a Rockette, and the other is a roadie for big musical acts. She flies to Norway next week to set up for a Rod Stewart concert. What am I doing next week? Maybe getting an eyebrow wax and haircut. My life runneth over with excitement.

Another team, each wearing matching pink tops and matching pants, were instantly assessed as the “Didn’t Read the Instructions Team” by all of us in line. More than one of us read a tip sheet on preparing for a reality show audition. Wearing matching outfits is tops on the “Don’t Do” list.

One team, dubbed “The Biker Chicks,” was a walking advertisement for Harley-Davidson. Others were seniors. Some were frat boys. And, of course, there was one plastic model-y team. But most were normal, everyday people just like us.

Let’s Go to the Video Tape!

When filming time arrived, we were ushered to a small tent where the camera and lights were set up. The “director” told everyone in line to be as animated as possible, tell why you want to be on the race and why you’d make a great team. You had two minutes to plead your case.

We had a plan, but when the camera’s on you, a whole lot of stuff flies right out of your head and you just hope for the best.

Since we were 4th place in line, we could watch only three other teams go before the camera. On one hand, we wanted to watch more people go ahead of us to see how they handled it. On the other, we were glad to get it behind us quickly.

We noticed the first teams were not very animated and stared straight at the camera. We thought “We can do this, and do it better than them!”

Suddenly, it was our turn. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!  We walked under the tent and were handed microphones and told “Hold these close enough to your mouth, but don’t swallow them, OK?” This made us laugh and loosened us up a bit.

I couldn’t remember everything we said if you held a gun to my head, but we basically told them how we were the “real people” the show was looking for, how we’re not twins, but we’re very twin-like. We practically read each other’s mind and “often (Me:) finish each (Ann:) other’s sentences.” And then we busted a gut laughing.

Ann said we’ve traveled together, gotten very lost, but always find our way to our destination. I said we were in this to entertain the home viewers, who could identify with us. I suppose we rambled on for another twenty seconds, laughing the whole time, and then handed back the microphones.

Even though we didn’t say everything we planned to, we were sure we were animated enough. We often talked to each other, instead of staring dead into the camera. That we engaged each other is perhaps one thing that set us apart from the few who came before us, and maybe a bunch after.

Stellar performance? Hardly. Fun to say we did it? You bet!

That’s Gotta Hurt

One sad note about the brother/sister team. We found out while waiting in line that they’d already made their audition tape at home. We weren’t sure why they showed up at all, since they could have just sent their applications and tape to CBS through the mail. We suspect they thought appearing at an open audition gave them an edge. It didn’t. Instead, I’m sure it gave them a massive headache.

I barely made out what the check-in people told them, but it was either they shouldn’t bother making a new tape, or they couldn’t make a tape if they planned to send in their other one. This meant that they each hopped a plane to the middle of Pennsylvania for no reason whatsoever. Ouch. We pitied them as they walked away, heads hanging low.

Someone Bring Champagne

So what happens now? We wait for the phone call to go to the next round in New York City. Don’t worry. We’re not delusional. Pretty sure it’s not going to happen. But if it does, watch out. It’ll be total pandemonium in The Junk Drawer!

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