Not So Model Home - By David James Page 0,15

write that down and paste it to your bathroom mirror and recite it every day. That’s your fuckin’ mantra! Okay, we start filming Monday. Be here at six A.M. sharp!”

While everyone got up to leave, I sat in my chair, dazed, wondering how all this happened. Yes, I knew exactly that this show was going to be little more than a gay Jerry Springer with a lot of tight pants. Yes, I signed the contract to be on the show. Yes, I showed up today for the briefing. But as I sat there, I wondered why I had done this? For the fame? Probably not. My low self-confidence made me shun the limelight like a cockroach under a fluorescent kitchen light. For the money? Well, yeah. I had four condo rentals that weren’t going to pay for themselves. And a mortgage on a money pit that I called home (or The Curse, depending on my mood that day). But still, I couldn’t get the question out of my mind. Like a mass murderer at his arraignment, why did I do it? And the answer was that I didn’t know.

Jeremy, sensing wrongly that I was starstruck, gave me a pep talk.

“You’re going to be a star, baby. What’s my little girl thinking about?”

I let the “little girl” pass as just another Hollywood-bullshit-make-small-talk. I looked him straight in the face. “I was thinking that being on this show was going to make spending a weekend with Liz and Dick Burton look like a Girl Scout Jamboree.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jeremy exclaimed enthusiastically, clopping me hard on the back as I stood up to leave.

CHAPTER 5

I’ve Got A Funny Feeling About This

“So how was my movie star’s first day?” Alex asked as I walked into our decoy office at the real-estate firm where we routinely gave too much of our commissions to our do-nothing brokerage. We mostly operated out of our home offices but used this one to store our huge files, make telephone calls, and more importantly, color copies.

“There’s less tension at a Palestinian-Israeli summit meeting.”

“The bitchiness has started already?”

“Oh, Alex, you have no idea. This show is going to descend into the depths of white trashiness.”

“The guys look the part? One tooth in the front of their mouths to hook some fruit?”

“Alex, I didn’t say these guys were from Desert Hot Springs. No, all the contestants are gorgeous models. Most are still working and one is in rehab.”

“A model in rehab. I never thought I’d see the day,” Alex said, insincerely shaking his head.

I took a stack of flyers for an overpriced home and dropped them all on the floor. “But behind the Estée Lauder eye rejuvenation creams and plastic Prada pants, their manners and breeding give ’em away. The weird thing is the French guy is the trashiest. Give him just one episode. He’s going to strip the Kardashian family of their class. I always think of the French as being, well, you know, having taste.”

“They adore Mickey Rourke.”

“Okay, so there’s a big, gaping hole in my theory. Gilles is nothing more than trash du traileur with a great body and face to match! And these guys are like what Gertrude Stein once said about Oakland, California.”

“There isn’t any there, there?”

“That’s about the sum of it, Alex. They spend most of their time texting, or playing Angry Birds video games. The glitz is the substance.”

“Amanda, they’re models. What did you expect?”

“You’d think with all the time they’ve spent in London and Paris and Milan, some sophistication would rub off.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is not sophistication, but as you said, substance. Don’t hold your breath. These kind of shows would turn Prince William into Snooki.”

“Oh God, Alex, please don’t mention Jersey Shore. I’m so afraid that Italy is never going to forgive us for letting those troglodytes film the show in Florence. Florence! Can you image it? The birthplace of the Renaissance! The city where all of Europe began to climb out of the Dark Ages, and the cast of Jersey Shore almost put it right back where it started in just a few weeks.”

“Amanda, the guys on your show might not be Rhodes Scholars, but they could never descend that low. You know this is a reality show, Amanda. There’s going to be bitchiness, cattiness, pettiness, and above all, manufactured drama. But do you think it’s going to have good production values?”

“Good production values, Alex? This is one step up from a porn film.”

“It’s not that bad. At