Biggest regret? Not being on The Real World.
About three years ago, I tweeted something to the effect of, “Mentally freaking out because I just realized that I’m about to be too old for The Real World.” Well, as it turns out, you don’t actually have to be under the age of 23 to be on The Real World. You just have to look like you're under the age of 23. Unfortunately, that’s still a strike against me because I recently went to a wedding with a girl two years my junior and someone asked if I was “her uncle.” It really took me down a notch.
But let’s just talk hypothetically here. Let’s act like I have the face of a child and I still get ID’d at party stores. Let’s say that I could be misconstrued as a 22.5 year old. Are we on board for this? Okay, good. Now let’s resolve ourselves to the fact that I would be perfect for this show. Allow me to explain.
I'm pretty much already best friends with several MTV cast members.
I have two talents in life. The first is getting front row at concerts. I haven’t done this since I discovered how much fun drinking is but when I was at Warped Tour for three consecutive summers as a teenager, the only thing separating me from the main stage was a barrier and security guards. I once high-fived Pharrell when he was in N.E.R.D.
My other talent in life is meeting Real World cast members. I met Road Rules: Semester At Sea's Veronica Portillo while I was walking down the street in San Francisco after lunch. I met The Real World: Back To New York's Mike (also known as “The Miz," also known as future WWE World Champion), outside of Churchill Downs at the Kentucky Derby in 2007. Johnny Bananas had to ask me to stop asking him about The Challenge when I'd regularly see him at a bar I used to go to. I even met The Real World: Seattle's Irene once. Yes, the Irene that got bitch-slapped by Stephen after she told him that he was obviously gay and he disagreed (sure enough, he turned out to be gay). These people are me. I am these people. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if some of them saw me around and thought to themselves, "Yeah, wasn't he on The Real World?"
The world needs a skinny-fat role model on The Challenge.
If I got cast on The Real World, I would obviously attempt to make the transition to The Challenge to battle against the likes of CT, Wes, Jordan, and the list goes on. These dudes all have something in common — they’re juiced-up gorillas, but I respect that. It’s just not me. Not my style. Not the path I’ve chosen for my body. Instead, I have chosen the neither-in-shape-nor-out-of-shape route. I’m the shortest 6’ tall person you’ve ever seen and the fattest 170 pounds on the planet.
The good news? I also have the unjustified athletic confidence of a lion and the arboreal locomotion of a spider monkey. I am confident that I can stand toe-to-toe with The Challenge all-stars. And if I can’t? Then I'll get an adderall prescription and take it until I have the strength of Lenny from Of Mice And Men because I refuse to quit my job to get on a challenge only to get sent home because I lost to Preston. Then, for years to come, I’ll be the guy who everyone talks about that went into The Gauntlet and beasted CT with tiny arms and dilated pupils.
My confessionals would be electric.
You guys know me by now. You know how I roll. I sip the Sunday Scaries Kool-Aid and I sip it often. And is there anything better on The Real World than watching someone go into a drunken stupor and then completely regret it the next day in the confessional? Nope.
Remember that one time Joey was pounding a bottle of wine and someone told him to, “put it away”, and then he smiled evilly and said, “Oh, I’ll put it away,” before just taking the bottle to the face? Well I did that at a Kid Rock concert once and I woke up the next day feeling like the most emotionally unavailable person on earth. If you went to “Existential Crisis” on Wikipedia, there was a picture of me wearing a sleeveless Matthew Stafford t-shirt with a fifth of Early Times in my hands while singing “American Badass." When I’m in Scaries mode, I’m not leaving the confessional on Sunday and the producers will have a good 16 hours of footage to pick and choose from. You’re welcome, MTV.
I thrive when I'm off the grid.
I know what you’re thinking - “Will, you can’t go off the grid when you’re on The Real World. There are cameras everywhere.” I realize this. But MTV takes your cell phones away from you to maximize your extroverted personality. So if Bunim & Murray put me into a forced "no cell phones allowed" situation? I'll do that dance. Because if you don’t have a cell phone, the producers pretty much tell you what bar to go to and what time you’re going. Sign me up for that shit yesterday because I love having my life plans set out for me. The fewer decisions I have to make, the better.
When I’m in line at bars, I make up white lies to stoke the fire of those around me. My favorite lie that I tell is that I just got done taping my season of The Real World and am flush with cash because of it. A part of me dies every time I tell that lie because it hurts so bad that it’s just so false. But, a part of me also thinks that this is going to put me on some self-fulfilling-prophecy shit that takes me on the yellow brick road to Real World stardom.
I stopped being polite and started getting a real a long time ago, MTV. It's your move.