I got a call from a casting director who wanted me to come in this afternoon and audition to host a show on the Game Show Network. This was greatly exciting.
When I told my lovely wife Cassandra where I was off to, she got very excited and said, “You’d make a perfect game show host.” This was greatly upsetting.
When your wife thinks you’re phony and plastic and so insincere that “you’d make a perfect game show host” and you’re not using that skill to cheat on her, you face a depressing self-realization.
She spent the next ten minutes assuring me that she meant that there’s a cool, retro-70s, smoothness to me that could be used to create a new, ironic version of the game show host. I smiled broadly, kissed her on the cheek and gave her some Turtle Wax.
The audition was taped in a boardroom with of two fake contestants who work for the game show network. I spent the majority of the 10 minutes making fun of them for being game show contestants, The rest of the time I made fun of the Game Show Network. I believe that, at some point, I told the female contestant that I was going to update the Richard Dawson thing and feel her up. This is not good hosting.
I was so bad and uncomfortable that there’s no way any executive made it all the way through my audition tape.
That will show Cassandra.