Tryouts Get TV Hopefuls Fired Up
They gave me wristband No. 147 out of about 200. I was standing in line for a casting call from Donald Trump’s hit TV show “The Apprentice,” and the first problem I noticed was that 99% of the other people were much younger.
Then a TV news crew showed up to cover the spectacle at Universal City’s theme park, and one woman started to jump for attention. She opened a big envelope while doing a pogo impersonation, pulled out her head shots and held them aloft.
I should have gotten some head shots. There I was, a graybeard without props, hoping against hope that I’d make the cut in a reality TV contest to become Donald Trump’s high-priced water boy. Trump himself was supposed to conduct some of the interviews.
There were unknown actors in line, along with fans of Trump, fans of the show, wanderers and wannabes. One woman told me she was there because she wanted to make a difference.
Heads, Peace Corps. Tails, “The Apprentice.”
Has there ever been a more perfect marriage than Trump and TV?
I pulled out my casting call notice and read that contestants should be able to take risks, succeed in a cut-throat environment and think creatively.
“I think I’m in,” I told a 25-year-old guy named Ali, who was No. 146 in line. “Everybody’s young and I’m much older,” I said, trying to break him down psychologically. “So I’ll stand out in the crowd.”
“You could be right,” said Ali, but I could tell he had already discounted me. Ali is a loan officer who called in sick to his bank so he could take a shot at national fame and a one-year job as Trump’s lackey.
“If I didn’t do it,” he said, “I’d always regret it.”
I nodded.
“You think it’ll hurt my chances that I’ve never seen the show?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” Ali said.
Behind me, a real estate developer named John, No. 148, said he felt like the job was his.
“My wife told me, ‘You are the apprentice,’ ” said John.
“He’s the apprentice,” Ali repeated to me, all but rolling his eyes.
Another TV crew came by, this one for a kids’ show, and I was selected along with several other contestants to perform Trump’s signature line on the show:
“You’re fired!”
“This could be our big break,” I told Ali, but he chickened out. He was afraid his boss would see him on television after he’d called in sick.
By the second take of “You’re fired!” I began to feel more natural. By the third take, I felt like the camera loved me. I wanted my own towers, my own hotels, my own TV show. My own bimbo.
But Kristen, another contestant, was an intimidating rival. It’s not just that she was statuesque and camera-ready. The top of her resume said, “Objective: To conquer the real estate market through financing, sales and investments.”
Kristen, a West L.A. mortgage broker, was filling out the show’s questionnaire. In answering the query about a major event in her life, she wrote: Moving to Los Angeles from Virginia “to find my millions.”
I had written “losing my hair,” but changed it to “getting hit with my spelling notebook by Sister Roberta.”
“What did you answer?” I asked Ali.
“I served as an interrogator in Guantanamo Bay,” he said, telling me he speaks a little Arabic. “I’m a reservist.”
God bless America.
Ali, an Arab American soldier just back from testing the outer limits of the Geneva Convention, lied to his boss, drove to the Frankenstein lot at Universal and was now standing in line for a chance to serve one of America’s most notorious businessmen.
I suggested that Ali go strong with Guantanamo if he got an interview with Trump.
“Yeah, I’m going to juice it,” he said.
Kristen, meanwhile, was becoming ever more intimidating. She fielded one “important” business call after another by cellphone, and she actually had an assistant with her. The assistant was now taking dictation as Kristen refined the answers on her questionnaire.
“She’s the apprentice,” Ali said, nodding toward the assistant.
The line moved slowly, but finally we came to a theater with signs that said, “Revenge of the Mummy.” Kristen was being interviewed by Jay Leno’s “Tonight Show”: What would you do if Donald Trump hit on you? Would you pose for Playboy? Reporters from CNN and TV Guide TV were interviewing “Apprentice” candidates as if we were running for president. Across the way was an attraction called “Terminator 2: 3D,” a ride that takes you all the way to Sacramento.
There could not have been a more perfect distillation of who we are.
At last, we stepped inside for a chance at a flaming ride on the comet of fame. Donald Trump eyeballed us from the center of the room, his hair a flash-frozen Orange Julius. I caught his eye as he came toward the interview table. Trump nodded at me, like I knew he would.
“What character on the show would you model yourself after?” a staff member asked as The Donald circled.
“I don’t want my character to be derivative,” I said, “so I’ve made a point of not watching any episodes. I want to bring something fresh and new to the show.”
I could tell they were pleased.
See you on TV.
Steve Lopez writes Sunday, Wednesday and Friday. Reach him at steve.lopez@latimes.com and read previous columns at www.latimes.com/lopez.
