On my blog, I’ve often rolled a grenade under the entire reality show industry. These orchestrated pieces of shit can’t die horrible deaths soon enough.But when it’s the middle of a hiatus-filled summer, an actor needs a reason to occasionally shower and put on long pants. Which is exactly what I was able to do when the Tyra Banks show came calling.
“Tyra” is not exactly a reality show, but it certainly ain’t “Masterpiece Theatre” for that matter. Either way, I try to take the positive out of every experience in this town, and in this case I did my job.
It all took place a couple years ago. A producer for the show found me online, and asked if I’d be interested in coming on as a critic for an episode about dating. My segment involved a woman who was having difficulty scoring second dates, so I joined a few guys in the back room of a restaurant in Hollywood, and watched on a monitor as Miss First Date botched a blind setup.
The producers really liked my acerbic jabs, and asked me to come back and sit with Tyra to critique this chick to her face.
Now came the cool part. Being announced onto stage in front of an audience of 250 screaming women made me feel like Brad effin' Pitt. I then sat on the couch and was poised and relaxed and took control of the show. It was an addictive high, but even better: it reinforced that I can do this.
First Date Chick really hung in there while we ganged up on her, and apparently was upset about the ambush. Not excessively upset, however, because a couple weeks later we went out for drinks and we totally made out.
I love me.
