Three years ago, I took an online quiz for the game show Weakest Link. I completely forgot about it until June when I got a phone call saying auditions for the show were going to be held in New Orleans.
No one believed I would do it. I’m too shy, too sensitive, I would be the MISSING link. So early Saturday, June 22, after being pried out of bed with the Jaws of Life, I drove to the Marriott on Canal Street. By 10 a.m. more than 100 people had shown up at the audition, which was run by four not-so-cheery 20-somethings from California.
First, we had to introduce ourselves, confess our ages, hometowns and occupations. We also had to say something funny and unique about ourselves. I told them of my dream to fly over the Magic Kingdom as Tinkerbell.
Then they announced that we were going to take a 20-question quiz – quiz – no one said anything about a quiz. It was a Saturday morning in the summertime, my brain was on vacation.
These were not normal questions either. They were trivial “who-the-hell-knows-this” sort of questions.
The guy next to me obviously didn’t know; he kept looking at my answers until one of the helpers came and stood between us.
Following the test, we were dismissed for a 30-minute break while they graded the papers and compared notes on our personalities (or lack thereof). Outside the Marriott, a cloud of smoke hung over all of the nervous, chain smoking contestant-wannabes. We compared answers. I missed the one about the 2000 Olympics (damn) and the one about Madonna’s real last name (how could I miss that?). We talked and bonded, as people tend to do when going through a traumatic and stressful experience, such as trying out for a game show.
We returned to the room, and the judges read out the names and numbers of people who were supposed to stay. The rest were too weak to even be considered for the Weakest Link. I was convinced this was the category in which I would land.
Then they called me. The people around me all grinned and one guy gave me a thumbs up. The guy who cheated off of my paper did not make it. After the weakest ones were escorted out, the rest of us were led to another room to be photographed (on a Polaroid in pairs to save money on film), to be interviewed on camera and to play a shortened version of the game.
We went up for our interviews and mock game in groups of eight. First we had to say our stats, name, age and occupation (just as we would on the show); then we had to make ourselves “memorable.” One woman read a poem; another guy talked about his 120 PEZ dispensers. I had no idea what to do. I kept wracking my drained brain; then it was my turn. So, I did the first thing that came to my mind. I bent my leg back, tucked my foot under my rib and smiled sweetly as my fellow auditioners gasped in shock.
The cameraman had to look up from the camera, and the girl asking the questions nearly fell off of her chair. I guess it was memorable.
The rest of my interview went smoothly. Then came time for the game; we played one full round and had to vote someone off. I missed one question – I had to identify the nationality of a named opera singer. He sounded Italian to me, but turned out to be Spanish – who knew? But I got my second question right. It turns out I know things I didn’t even know I knew.
And that was it. They didn’t tell us the outcome because the tape had to be shown to the producers. They may call any time within the next year and ask me to fly out and become the next weakest link. Right now, I’m just waiting for that call.
