Unscripted (18 page)

After what feels like only thirty seconds, the alarm goes off again. I squint over at the angry red display. It reads 6:48 a.m.
Shit.
I have to be at the preschool by 8:00 a.m. to prep for today’s shoot.

Last week, Will cornered me in the house and asked me to fix Lisa’s boring picnic idea. Well, okay, he didn’t call the picnic
boring
exactly; he just said the idea needed some sprucing up. I agreed to help on the condition that he keeps my involvement a secret. He didn’t ask why (and I didn’t volunteer it) but I think he understood that Lisa would serve me a Clorox cocktail if she knew I was the one responsible for changing her date.

So I decided to make the picnic the reward in a competition. Basically, the guys have to build dollhouses for a bunch of four-year-olds. Then Katie and the kids will pick the best dollhouse, and the winning team gets to go on a picnic with Katie. It will be a good chance to see the guys interact with each other (and a gaggle of screaming kids).

The guys have been divided into three “randomly picked teams.” And by random, I mean we’ve made sure that the Christian guy ends up on the team with the atheist, the two bully jocks are together, and the creepy Katie-obsessed freaks are on the same team, as well.

I jump in the shower and quickly wash my hair.
Ugh.
I really don’t want to go to work today. I would love to go back to bed and sleep until 10:00, maybe catch a movie, go book
shopping. Instead, I’m going to be babysitting a bunch of bratty idiots (not to mention a bunch of four-year-olds).

Oh crap.
Isn’t today positive day? I’ve already screwed up positive day. Way to go. Well, no one is perfect. Positive day officially starts now.

I get dressed and think positive thoughts.
Today is going to be a great day.
I eat breakfast and think positive thoughts.
The shoot will be a breeze.
I grab my keys and purse and think positive thoughts.
I will actually have fun today.

Once I leave the house, I find that positive day becomes a little more challenging. The key is to look at these little experiences through Nancy’s eyes, as a blessing. Yes, perhaps I could have filled my gas tank yesterday, on my day off, rather than today, when I’m rushed. But no matter, it’s an opportunity to take a break from the busy rush-hour traffic. Oh, and instead of getting angry, I’d like to give thanks to the lovely BMW douche for cutting me off and making me spill coffee on my shirt. There is nothing I enjoy more than the smell of stale coffee on fabric.

What’s freaky about positive day is that it makes you realize how many negative thoughts you have. It’s sort of terrifying.

I arrive at the preschool five minutes early and head inside. I haven’t been inside of a preschool, well, since I attended preschool, but it’s a familiar sight. The mats, chairs and tables are an aggressive mixture of bright green, red, yellow and orange. The colors are almost blinding in their intensity. The walls are covered with construction-paper artistry, and the place smells of glue, Play-Doh and sticky fingers.

I meet Miss Tina, who seems very pleasant and comforting with her oval face, braided brown hair and wide-set brown eyes.

“Abby, it’s so nice to put a face to the voice,” she says as she shakes my hand.

Oh, Miss Tina. She can’t be much older than me, but I want her to read me a story and give me chocolate milk. “Nice to meet you, too. Thank you so much for arranging this on such short notice.”

“No problem. So, we have twelve students who can participate today.” Miss Tina hands me a clipboard with the parents’ signed release forms. “The rest of the children will stay inside during recess.”

“Got it,” I say, glancing out the window to the back playground. The PAs better have delivered the wood already or they are dead.

Damn it, it’s positive day.
Rephrase.
The wood has been delivered. This day is going to be great.

“As our guests, we ask that you respect our rules. You are not allowed to shoot inside the classrooms, only outside in the back area. And we will need noise to be kept to a minimum during naptime.”

Jeez, all right, Grandma. “Of course. Naptime is later in the afternoon, right? We better be finished by then, or I’m in trouble.” I give a little fake laugh. “Thank you again for letting us shoot here today. It’s going to be very cute.”

“We’re happy to oblige. So the children have recess at 11:30, right before lunch. You’ll have forty-five minutes to get what you need,” Miss Tina says, tapping at her watch.

A sense of panic creeps in. I try to keep my voice steady. “Didn’t we discuss having two recesses? We actually need the kids to come out twice. Once during the building and then, of course, for the final judging.”

“We discussed it, but I stressed that the children must keep to their schedules.”

This Miss Tina is turning out to be a real pain in the ass. “I completely understand, but is there any way we could get them for another forty-five minutes at around 2:00? We really need them there for the judging. It won’t have the same impact without them.”

Please, lady, please.

“It’s too disruptive. We’d have to split up the teachers and it would be very upsetting to the children inside who are missing out on not just one outdoor recess, but two.”

Bah!
“But they have to be here for the judging. That is the whole point of coming here.” Staying calm. “If we have to stick to the one recess rule, is there any way you could make it at 2:00, rather than 11:30?”

“We really don’t like to disrupt their schedules…”

“I’ll throw in another $500 for the location fee,” I add quickly.

Miss Tina considers it for a moment. “Well, we could use some updated art supplies. I suppose I could make an exception just this once.”

“Thank you so much,” I say with a tight smile. I’ve officially broken up with Miss Tina.

“Now that that’s settled, let me show you the back area. Some of your coworkers are already here setting up.”

Well, thank God for that.

As we walk outside, I notice the PAs have already laid down tarp in three areas of the yard and are loading them with wood, tools and paint for the dollhouse construction. The camera crew is also circling the area, setting up the shots.

I’m producing the dollhouse building scenes alone since they’re fairly self-contained, and then once Katie arrives, Grant will come to oversee everything. Lisa and Will feel like they need to give Katie some face time, so they’ll show up too at some point to make sure she’s okay. Which means today will be much more stressful than it needs to be. Added to that is the fact the kids won’t be around during the building phase, but everyone will just have to deal.

Miss Tina takes me inside and introduces me to the twelve kids who are participating. Most are normal, a little tousled but cute, and a few look like they are here to audition for
Annie
with their perfect hair and bizarrely coordinated outfits.

I give the kids my spiel about the day’s events and explain how they are going to help Katie pick the winning house. In response, I get some vacant nods, a few nose picks and a lot of feet shuffling. Well, let’s hope they know how to turn it on for the cameras.

Two white production vans pull up to the front of the school, carrying the remaining ten suitors. Unfortunately, none of them look that thrilled with their challenge, but tough. It’s not like we’re asking them to eat bugs, or walk a plank suspended between two hot air balloons.

After I give the guys their instructions, the building starts and filming begins. Christine and I stand off to the side and watch as they get going. I flinch at the cacophony of hammering and sawing.

“Wow,” I say, wincing. “That hammering is sure loud.”

“Yeah, ya didn’t think of that,” says Christine.

“Eh, the editors will just montage the building part, it’ll be fine.” I hope. “I guess we should wait about five minutes then start the OTFs.”

“Great, the guys have been soooo cooperative with the interviews,” Christine says sarcastically.

There has been a little mini-revolt happening with our on-the-fly interviews lately. It all started a couple of days ago when a few of the guys wanted to watch some big basketball game. It was a shoot day, so production offered to tape it and play it for them later that night. That
apparently wasn’t good enough and the big babies have been pouting ever since. There’s no TV, no music, no phone calls home. I know it must suck, but they signed up for it.

Since then, a few of the guys have refused to answer our interview questions in complete sentences, or worse, they’ll just give cranky one-word responses. Based on what they’ve been giving us, I’m not expecting much from them today.

“Push as much as you can,” I say as I grab my clipboard.

“You take Joe this time,” Christine adds, looking hopeful.

“Fine, fine, you chicken.” Joe, the thick-necked, stocky jock, has been the worst of all the strikers, grunting like a caveman any time we approach him for an interview. One of Katie’s college hook-ups, Joe seems more interested in drinking with the guys than romancing Katie.

“Hey, Joe,” I say as he savagely saws a piece of wood. “Need to grab a quick OTF.” To my surprise, he puts the saw down and wipes his face with a handkerchief. “So tell me about the challenge today.”

“Well, I’m on a team with the coolest dudes in the house, Frank and Lee,” he says as he wraps his burly arms around their necks. “We’re really stepping it up with this challenge. We’re not going to build some boring dollhouse.” He gestures disdainfully toward the other teams. “We are going to rock this mother out. It’s a dollhousepalooza up in here.”

I look suspiciously at the ramshackle frame. I doubt Katie will be awed by their dollhouse building powers. “Thanks, Joe.” I turn toward Lee, one of the new suitors. “Lee, what’s the reward for winning the challenge today?”

“I’m psyched because the winning team gets to go on a picnic with Katie. I haven’t had a chance to really vibe with her yet and I really want some one-on-one time. So let me tell you, we are in it to win it.”

Even Frank, Katie’s high school boyfriend who thought she was frigid at the ripe old age of seventeen, pipes up without being prompted. “America, we are going to blow your minds. It’s all about Team Delta today.” The guys smile secretly at each other and dole out high fives.

“What’s Team Delta?” I ask.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” Frank winks weirdly. “All will be revealed. I’ll just say, victory is ours!”

“Victory!” Lee and Thick-Necked Joe scream in unison as they pump their fists into the air.

“It is on.” Frank gives the “hang loose” sign and returns to his carpentry.

Next, I interview Ryan and his two teammates (who are all fairly normal for a reality show) while Christine interviews the Stalker team, four scary men who will probably end up on
To Catch a Predator
one day.

When I ask beautiful man Ryan (without a single stutter or giggle this time) how he’s getting along with his teammates, he answers me with a concise, “They’re good guys, but I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to win.” And his teammate then hits me with the tried-and-true “I’ve got my game face on ’cause I don’t want to end up on the chopping block.” This is reality-speak in full effect. It’s like there’s a giant book of clichés that reality contestants read before going on camera. It kills me every time. Well, at least the guys are playing along nicely now.

A few hours later, the guys are almost done with the building. They actually seemed to have fun with it. The creepy, Katie-obsessed team constructed a perfect pink Barbie dream house. Ryan’s team made a decent, if plain house with a tiny red doghouse in the yard for Katie’s dog, Puff. And Team Jock, or Team Delta as they dubbed themselves, built an ode to
Animal House,
complete with mysteriously singed walls and Delta Tau Chi lettering on the balcony. It’s actually pretty funny. Based on construction, the stalkers should win, but I hope Katie picks the
Animal House
just to piss everyone off.

At 1:40 Grant, Will and Lisa arrive. I watch as they look at the dollhouses. Grant looks amused and Lisa looks…well, like Lisa. And Will? Bored? Disappointed? Thrilled? Who the hell knows with him? Before I can take a closer look, Will and Lisa head back inside.

Grant walks over to me. “Hey. This looks like it’s going well.”

“Yeah. So far, it’s been easy,” I reply, squinting at the sun. “Though we haven’t had a visit from the kiddies yet. So we’ll see.”

“That should be interesting. We’ll be ready for Katie in about twenty.”

“Just so you know, the kids are coming out at 2:00 p.m. whether we’re ready or not. The teacher is a Nazi.”

“Shit. Then I better get a move on.” Grant heads off and talks to one of the cameramen.

Exactly sixteen minutes later, Katie arrives and joins the kids outside to judge the dollhouses. She’s wearing a yellow silk, tube-top sundress that shows off her freckled shoulders, long legs and slender arms. The stalker team is practically drooling. Scary.

At the moment, everything’s chaotic. The kids are a mess and are running around in a frenzy. I guess they’re a little pent-up from being cooped up all day. Thank you, Miss Tina. But Katie is quite sweet with them. She’s listening patiently as they spout some sort of gibberish at her. She’s not bothered at all by the ear-piercing screech of delighted screams. Better her than me.

Katie takes one of the shy girls by the hand and leads her to the stalkers’ perfect Barbie house. She approaches Eric first. “This is nice, Eric. Whose idea was it?”

Eric, a crush from Katie’s elementary school days, answers her shyly. “It was mine. I mean we all discussed, but when I told the guys how fond you used to be of dolls, we just decided that this was the way to go.” He smiles, displaying two very large, front buck teeth. “And I mean, God, of course, had a hand in it too.”

Hmm, that’s a new one. I wonder if that’s anywhere in the big bad book of reality-speak?