Aselin

I have a slight competitive streak. OK, the only reason I had children is so I had live-in people I could beat at games.

This character trait is usually cause for rejoicing. No longer am I chosen last for team games. I usually walk away from baby showers with nifty prizes and am in charge of the entertainment at family reunions.

I enjoy a good fight, and while I hate to lose, I am willing to risk losing just to have the chance to play.

This competitive quality has not been without it's downside.

Back before I had the wisdom of the sage, I had a hard time turning down a dare. Usually the dares I encountered were things like eating a raw jalapeno at a fancy restaurant, or running fully clothed across the gym during the time out of a high school basketball game. Nothing anyone else would remember. OK, my spicy daring date may remember me spitting out partially chewed jalapeno all over the table as I gagged for relief. He picked pepper bits out of his tie. But mostly, no harm no foul.

Recently I was reminded of an ill-thought out incident I've tried to block out.

Just a reminder, there are people in your life who are fantastic examples of how you should live. I am not one of those people.

In the early '90s I was sulking around the office after a breakup. It was a rough ending, and I was pretty mopey. Good friends trying to cheer me up gave the natural suggestions about other fish in the sea, and getting back on the horse. Platitudes did little, as everyone knows only time heals such wounds. Well, time and poorly used brain cells.

The '90s saw the advent of shock television. During this time there was a terrible dating show called "Studs". Two boys took three girls out on separate dates. The girls were interviewed and then boys had to guess which of the girls said various quotes. Everyone was watching this train wreck of a show, and my helpful coworkers suggested I audition to become a contestant.

After a number of unsuccessful requests, one of them called me a chicken, or something powerful like that. Not to have my honor insulted I immediately dialed the hot line for the show and left my contact information on their answering machine. HA! That will show my snarky co-workers. They all gathered around me patting me on the back and wishing me luck as they dispersed back to their important jobs.

Caught up in the adrenaline of the moment somehow I found myself at the audition. Dressed in business attire, in a large room filled with a large population of scantily clad females and mouth-breathing males I realized this was a baaaaaad idea. Each potential contestant was called to the center of the room to stand before the judges. After listening to imbecile, I mean potential contestant, after potential contestant, go through the audition I realized with great relief there was NO WAY a skinny little Mormon girl would ever be considered for the cast.

Finally my name was called and I took my mark. My business suit and heels hardly fit in with the crowd and the judges immediately picked up on the fact that I was probably lost. Reading my application a casting agent noted, "BYU huh? So, you're a Mormon?" All three agents rolled their eyes as another said, "Well that means you don't party then?"

See, this is where I could have gotten out of the whole thing, if I were smart. But noooo, I shot back (clearly without thinking) "I party as hard as anyone I just remember everything the next day."

The judges were reduced to laughter as the interview continued. I was the first person cast that day.

Driving home I could not figure out if this was a triumph or a tragedy.

I shortly found out: I had two very nice dates. An actor from New Jersey who had been in the movie Top Gun, and a lifeguard from Huntington Beach. While neither one was a love connection I decided this was not entirely a terrible experience. That was until taping.

After the second borderline obscene comment they were attributing to me, I stopped taping and took off my microphone. and stood to leave the set. Prepared to walk out, the staff surrounded me and attempted to smooth things over. We came to an agreement and everything that had to do with me became G rated from there on out.

The end of the show requires that each girl and each boy choose someone they would like to go on another date with. Imagine my joy as both boys chose the other two girls and I sat there as the loser odd- man out clapping for the newfound love that surrounded me. It was clearly a high point.

Weeks later, the night of the show, I sat alone in the dark, watching the train wreck unfold on television for millions to behold. Now I got the joy of watching my awkward self standing next to the host as the other two couples embraced. Gee, this is like high school all over again.

The show ended, I turned off the television and hoped that a good dose of Benadryl might drown out my humiliation. Suddenly the phone rang. I stared at it for a few rings, sure it was one of my friends calling to rub the whole experience in my face. (I've always had good friends).

Finally I picked up the receiver and squeaked out a hello.

"Aselin?"

"Uh, huh."

"My name is Aaron and I work with Jay, your lifeguard date from the show tonight."

"Uh, huuuh." I said even more tentatively. I quickly realized the bozo had given out my phone number to his friends. Niiiiice. This just kept getting better and better.

"Well, we're all down at the station and just watched the show and wanted to let you know we think Jay is a complete moron."

How sweet! I then heard sounds in the background of grunts, and oofs like the soundtrack from an Adam West Batman episode.

"We're teaching him a lesson and are embarrassed at how stupid he is for not choosing you."

The sound of breaking wood punctuated his Hallmark sentiments.

Aaron talked me in to meeting the whole group at Black Angus for a "drink" which Jay informed all of them was a ginger ale for me. I rounded up my roommate and went in search of my dignity.

While there was no love connection for the evening, it was a lot of fun to be out with an entire lifeguard troupe. As Jay walked me to my car he apologized for not choosing me, he confessed he was not sure I would choose him so he went with the ickier sure-thing contestant. He then asked if he could see me again.

Not being propped up by a gang of goading idiots, my brain was fully intact as I politely declined. Sorry Jay, you can't be a chicken on TV and get a second date with me. Noooo sireeee.