TPASAiDtHHAtPoTSAJ

Where I'm from, love is a luxury. Most of us don't do any better than an overdone steak and the final third of a communal mountain dew bottle, backwash and all. But me? I had a dream. More than a dream. I had a vision. And not God himself could stop me.

It takes an audacity and a kind of strength of spirit to look in the mirror and say to yourself "I am beautiful, and I deserve to be a contestant on Northeast Rhode Island's premier regional dating show: 'These People Are So Attractive, it's Difficult to Handle How Attractive the People on This Show Are. Jeez.' Participating in a Rhode Island phenomenon like TPASAiDtHHAtPoTSAJ ain't exactly child's play. But I ain't exactly a child.

Instead, I'm twenty-four years old, I work as an investment banker and I'm built like a laundry machine permanently set to "tumble," if you know what I mean. I have all the assets a good God could give. But that alone won't land me on TPASAiDtHHAtPoTSAJ. Not by a long shot. If I want to make it in the cutthroat world of Northeast Rhode Island regional television, I'd need a trump card.

So when Stacy from Financial Planning mentioned by the watercooler that Chadderwick, last season's winner, had given the casting team a little something extra, I was all ears. Unfortunately, Stacy hates that I have Kraft Microwavable Tunaballs™ for lunch every day. She stopped speaking as soon as I sauntered over.

"A little something extra?" I asked her "Ew, Jesus, why do you always smell like reheated tuna?" She replied. I could tell, this was going to need some finesse. But for me? Not an issue.

"You have good bones, seems like." I buttered her up, before calmly transitioning into the matter at hand. "Tell me about Chadderwick now."

"I really, really hate tuna." she responded, looking a little nauseated.

"What was the something extra Chadderwick gave the casting team?" I pressed on

"I had a really bad tuna experience when I was a kid, is why." She said, morose.

This was going nowhere fast. I needed to recover before the entire mission, and my dream, were lost in the quiet "sploosh" of water cooler conversation. "You said Chadderwick gave something extra but then you didn't say what the extra thing was." I told her, my nerves clearly strained to a breaking point.

"I was on a tour of a tuna canning facility in 4th grade, and I just fell right into the vats. Just riiight in. It was everywhere. Got in my ears, my eyes. All around me, all I could taste, all I could feel, was tuna. My thoughts became tuna thoughts. My emotions became…" I walked away. Clearly I wouldn't be getting anything valuable out of her. Looks like I'd have to find Chadderwick's "X-factor" myself.

My first stop? The casting location. A small office building off I-53. I arrived at a parking lot across the street around 5:00 AM. First lesson of TPASAiDtHHAtPoTSAJ? Don't get caught with your pants down. Especially not mid-season when the local television station's HR department finally got involved. And nothing metaphorically says "pants down" more than showing up too late to catch a parking lot x-factor handoff that could propel me into the history books, or, even better, the TPASAiDtHHAtPoTSAJ wikipedia page.

The first car showed up around 8:45 AM. The driver, likely a man judging by how few breasts they seemed to have, wore a blazer, loafers, and some fashionable, tortoiseshell eyewear. Textbook casting director. But something was wrong. There was no one else in the parking lot. The casting director walked into the building. No handoff. Damn.

Over the next two hours several more cars parked, their drivers got out and entered the building. Not a single person lingered in the parking lot to trade illicit, but mysterious objects for preferential treatment. Then it hit me. Objects? What if it wasn't an object at all. What if it was information? Chadderwick must have slipped the casting director some kind of vital intel - just enough intel to put him squarely in the limelight.

But what was it? A bank number? The location of an oncoming terrorist attack? Some kind of recipe? My mind raced with the possibilities. I needed to calm down. Think clearly. I grabbed one of the cassettes on my dash and checked the title. "10 Reasons You ROCK and NOTHING Can Harm You: Motivational Tracks for the Chronically Successful." My favorite.

With the calming sound of a Tim Robbins impersonator leaking calmly from the car stereo I was ready to think. Ten minutes later I'd eliminated nearly a dozen potential info-trading options, but didn't feel any closer to the truth. I had to face it: I'd need some more intel myself if I wanted to find out what Chadderwick's intel really was.

Frankly, I didn't know what to do. For a moment, I questioned whether this operation made any sense at all. Going to such extreme lengths just to get a leg up against competition I already had a leg up and an upper hand against? Does taking a sick day to stake out a small office building 45 minutes from where I live really make any kind of sense?

But just then, like clockwork, the Tim Robbins impersonator spoke up. " Are you questioning yourself right now? Are you asking yourself 'Why did I do this? Do I have any idea what I'm doing? Was my spouse right to leave me?' Well STOP! If there's one thing you NEED to take away from this audio-casette, it's that focus is the house where success lives, and perseverance is the side-deck where success spends his evenings." Exactly. Fucking exactly. 10RYRaNCY:MTftCS never lets me down.

Two minutes later I'd recuperated and was more jacked than ever. The plan washed over me like a Louisiana mudslide. I didn't need surveillance to find out what Chadderwick told the casting director. I just needed the casting director to tell me what Chadderwick told them. Of course, the casting director could never know they told me what Chadderwick told them. It wouldn't be easy. It was going to need some finesse. But for me? Not an issue.

My official audition was two days from the stakeout. I took the time to prepare mentally and physically. I started in the "Ultra Deep-V" section of Abercrombie and Fitch. Two patterened "Primarily V" shirts and a pair of very distressed jeans later and I knew I looked the part. My only worry was keeping the casting director focused on the audition and not the man auditioning, if you know what I mean.

At home I spent several hours listening to 10RYRaNCY:MTftCS on repeat. There was no room for self-doubt or critical thinking with a plan like this. The game was psychology and I was Dr. Freud. Time to get to work.

I showed up to the audition 10 minutes early to rehearse and get in the headspace. "I've already won I've already won I've already won." I said to myself, just like I do every day at 10:45. That's why I scheduled my audition for 11. When they called my name I was ready for them.

I walked into the audition room and saw toirtose-shell-glasses-with-the-blazer sitting there. "Hi, thanks for coming in" he said to me. Perfect. He was clueless. "Great to be here. Really great. I replied, as I sat down on the foldable chair laid out for me. I spread my legs wide to show dominance.

"I'm Fred, I'm the casting director for 'These People Are So Attractive, it's Difficult to Handle How Attractive the People on This Show Are. Jeez.' and I'd love it if you could start by just telling us a bit about yourself." He said, clearly unaware of the caliber of candidate he had in front of him.

"Well I'm 24, I work as an investment banker, and if you couldnt' already tell, I'm built like a laundry machine set to tumble, if you know what I mean."

"Uuh, right." He replied.

"More importantly, though, I already know about it." I said. This was the first step. I knew it would send him spiraling. Acting like I already knew - stroke of genius.

"What?"

"Oh, it's ok, we don't have to be coy."

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

"I'm just saying, I already know what you know."

"What?"

"Oh alright, I get it I get it." The guy was a professional. I should've known. "Let's talk theoretically for a second, then. Let's say, hypothetically, a regionally famous someone - or someone about to become regionally famous - dropped you some intel you couldn't do without. And then let's say theoretically that that someone's intel wasn't just that someone's intel, but that someone else had the same intel. How bout that?" I told him, leaning back in my chair. I had him cornered. Just like I'd practiced, there was no way out. He'd have to tell me what Chadderwick told him, and then I'd be as good as there.

"I'm sorry sir, I really don't know what you're trying to get at here."

"Ok ok, we can play coy if you'd like. But I'm just saying, it would be a damn shame if that little something something got out." I smiled. There it was. Laid out for him. Everything had gone exactly like I'd imagined.

"Alright, I'm gonna take a stab here and you let me know if I'm close. You think someone gave me some kind of information, and that influenced my decisions about the show? Or something? Something along those lines."

"Aah, ok, yeah, take that stab. Uh-huh."

"Right. Right. What information was that, then?"

"Hah. Exactly."

"Sir, I'm not picking up what you're putting down."

"Oh you're picking it up, 'Sir' "

"No, I'm not picking it up."

"I've put it down, and you're bending down to grab it"

"I'm not, I'm not grabbing it"

"You're desperate for it, you want to pick it up, you've been picking it up for weeks"

"Ok, I think we're done."

"Sure, sure. Was CHADDERWICK done, when he gave you that little something 'extra' "

"Extra? Like the cupcakes he got us after the show ended?"

Cupcakes. Of course it was cupcakes. All the pieces were coming together. I'd made a classic error. Easy mistake.

"And what if I told you I had cupcakes right out back?" I said. Great recovery.

"Uuh, ok sir. I think we've had enough. You can go."

I didn't say anything as I stood up. I just smiled, grabbed the chair, and walked out.

"Um, sir, you can't take that with you." He said to me on the way out. I took it with me.

...

The casting director took out his cell phone and quietly dialed a number. "He knows, Bill. He knows everything." He said, the tension leaking from his voice. He paused for a reply. "Of course I've casted him, Bill. It would take an absolute genius to make me think he knew without actually knowing. I thought I threw him off with the cupcake line, just like you said, but he called my bluff. I've never seen anyone like him. Man had the confidence of an Abercrombie and Fitch enthusiast. He was built like a laundry machine, Bill, I swear. This is going to be the best season we've had, Bill. I know, Bill, it'll be the best second season in regional television history. Like a laundry machine Bill, I'm telling you."