An Open Letter to Potential Real World Cast Members

To Whom It May Concern:

I understand your desire to be famous. American culture glamorizes fame in a way only the British can appreciate and our bootstrap mentality makes wealth and notoriety feel like a debt that’s owed. So I won’t cast judgment when you send MTV that video of you riding a unicycle naked through your small Midwestern town. I know you just want to be on TV.

You’re a dreamer and many times dreamers see only what they want to see. So I’m writing this letter to tell you what you can expect when you finally become one of those seven strangers.

Your liver will grow to twice its normal size.
At some point during the last 20 years, Real World producers stopped casting kids with unique personalities and decided instead to focus their attention on burgeoning alcoholics. I suspect this shift came during the Hawaii season when Ruthie drove drunk and was sent to rehab. It gave the producers the unique opportunity to simultaneously condemn and rescue a cast member and then claim they were sending an important social message.

So get ready potential cast member. The worst parts of your personality will be uncovered, exploited and condemned in the name of advertising revenue. Enjoy that tenth Long Island Iced Tea. Wait, aren’t you underage?

You will have your ass kicked by townies at least once.
If there’s one thing we Americans hate more than Arabs, it’s people who are famous for no good reason. So when you hit the local watering hole with 20 crew members in tow, don’t be surprised when some drunk local, who’s own audition tape got returned unopened, decides to take a run at you. But please tough guy, take your beating like a man. Americans hate watching men cry.

You will have endless, banal conversations about race and love.
You’re not Martin Luther King. Not even close. So spare us your views on race relations. You may think you’re tolerant. Hell, you may even be tolerant. But it will all be undone when you spew racial epithets at your roommate after a Bacardi-fueled warpath through the bar district. Just remember, they don’t allow cell phones in rehab.

Ditto your views on relationships. We get that you’re terrible at being faithful, and we believe you might want to settle down, someday. Just don’t agonize over it. You’re never going to find your soul mate between the legs of the stripper you brought back to the house. She may look good in the hot tub, but you’ll never get that glitter off your camouflage sheets (sadly, that is not a metaphor).

You will not become rich and famous after the show ends.
The Real World will not be your first step to stardom. In fact, you’ll most likely be forgotten the minute the reunion episode is over. Let’s face it; in the end you’re just another reality show wannabe. So please, potential cast member, don’t talk about the “projects” you’ve got lined up, or the “contacts” you’ve made, or pretend that the drinking you do is “networking." You’re being used and you have zero leverage. You’ll end up back in Indiana, sort of going to school, definitely not working, constantly thinking about how for a brief, handsome moment you felt what it was like to be known. The sooner you realize this, the better the rest of your life will be. Quick test: name all the cast members from the Boston series without using Google. Now name all of the “Friends." I rest my case.

You can expect to put your life on hold forever, waiting for the producers to call for another “challenge."
Here’s some useful advice: once your season has ended, don’t bother getting a real job or shouldering any responsibilities. You’ll want to be able to drop everything when you’re asked to appear on the Real World/Road Rules Challenge. Maybe, if you’re very lucky, you’ll “retire” from challenges with fanfare and adulation like Timmy (even though he’ll never be able to retire in the real real world). You’re more likely to be kicked off three consecutive shows for fighting and never asked back. Then every fall you’ll be forced to swallow your bile as you watch Brad from San Diego win another motorcycle that should’ve been yours. Make sure you don’t yell too loudly. Your dad has to get up early for work.

So heed my warning, potential Real World cast member. Fame is fickle, especially for basic cable reality show stars.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Citizen