Sunday night is Amazing Race night. In the ten years that it has been on the air, I have watched just about every season. In the early years I was obsessed. I watched religiously and planned my Wednesday nights around primetime. Boyfriend and I were still in college and he didn’t even have the title ‘boyfriend’ yet. We would watch the show while chatting on AIM and argue about who was the better team. After watching 17 seasons we’ve gotten pretty good about picking the winners. (I’ve actually picked the winning team for the past five seasons.)
Boyfriend and I have this grand idea that we would kick butt at the Amazing Race, as long as boyfriend doesn’t give directions. As I’ve discussed before, when presented with two options, boyfriend will inevitably choose the wrong direct 100% of the time. He does however have real world experience, or as he says “he knows the harsh realities of the world.” I apparently “have lived in a safety bubble.” (This is true) There are some things that would prevent us from doing well on the race. To give you a complete picture, let me walk you through our adventure of trying out for the Amazing Race.
Way back in 2006, boyfriend came to Madison for a visit. It just so happened that he came to town the same weekend there was an Amazing Race tryout. Tryouts were happening in Indiana at some beachside casino, three hours away from Madison, from 10-4. We figured if we left by nine am that we could be there by noon, perfect. Driving on the I-90, somewhere around Chicago, we hit massive traffic. Who knew that Chicago would be so busy on a beautiful Saturday afternoon?
Phew, made it through traffic, just thirty minutes behind schedule. But wait, is Indiana in the central time zone or the eastern time zone? Ummm, does it make a difference if it’s during daylight savings time? Oh boy, we might have one less hour! Speed boyfriend, speed!
When we finally made it to the casino we were confronted with a massive line of people. There were easily five hundred people waiting to have their turn in front of the camera. We got our number and stood in line, filling out our application as we waited. Hmmm, they need a photocopy of our passports? Uh oh, mine is in Wisconsin and boyfriends is in New York. Talk about being unprepared.
After thirty minutes of waiting in line and slowly inching forward, the head of the tryouts called numbers 450-500. Oh, we were number 498! The four hundred people in front of us had numbers in the thousands. Boyfriend and I considered our options. A. Wait in line for several more hours, abiding by proper line protocol. Or B. Do it Amazing Race style and cut everyone. We went with option B, what? We had the right number, they called us!
Needless to say we didn’t end up getting on the Amazing Race, I don’t know why, we’re pretty awesome. Boyfriend yells at people and I cry. We’d be good television.