My mission was to infiltrate the world of reality dating shows by landing an appearance on the syndicated TV show Blind Date. Somehow, I made it through the pre-interview remaining fully in character as an over-the-top weirdo [read Part 1 here], and now it was time for the date itself.
Did you know it takes two large SUVs to film a Blind Date date? Each day, several four-person crews film three different dates for syndicated immortality. Our SUV is fully rigged with cameras to capture all the dating action as it unravels.
You try acting natural in front of this guy.
The rules of filming are explained as I vigorously nod my head. First of all, we're not supposed to use the word "mother-Froster" as an adjective.
"Try not to talk about movies and music," says the field producer. "Don't make any reference to the show. Just let the cameras be a fly on the wall."
"A fly on the wall," I repeat.
"And try not to talk to each other when we're not filming."
The field producer continues as we make our way to the future Mrs. Hank Bartholomew III's apartment. "The majority of people who come on Blind Date are wannabe actors. And not very good ones at that." He goes on to tell a story about a girl from the previous week, who ended her date by peeing standing up.
"Where was she from?" I ask, thinking I might know her.
"From Hell," adds the bitter PA, who later tells me sordid tales of couples breaking into the bone-dance while filming in the SUV.
We pull up to my blind date's apartment. She lives in what can best be described as "a Hollywood dump." The crew sets up their cameras.
Emma, meet "Hank."
For a suave first impression, I've brought a few gifts: a $6.99 jug of blush wine (creating the inconvenience of her carrying it all day), a fake flower arrangement and a picture frame ($3.99) that says I LOVE YOU! (This might be a big claim, but I have a feeling we're going to really hit it off!) Inside the frame, I've inserted a picture of me with an ex-girlfriend. I've put a red X through her head.
My blind date is put into place, to film that all-important first impression. I march toward the building, jug of wine in hand, as the cameras roll. She has long, dark hair. She turns around ... and tries to hide her shock.
The thought bubble was added by Blind Date, but I'm pretty sure it's what she was thinking.
"Whoa! Look at you," I cry. "Woo!"
I present the jumbo jug of blush wine.
"This is for you. It's wine, from Wine Country!"
Though the container is three times larger than your average bottle of wine, my date is clearly not impressed.
"Oh, $6.99!" she snips, reading the price tag off the twist-off cap.
"Yes, that's the price," I clarify, handing her the fake flowers and the picture frame. "That's a picture of me. Disregard the fact that I'm with another girl."
I actually prefer to think of myself as a funny man.
There's a few beats of awkward silence, broken by her spouting, "Well, are you going to be a gentlemen and carry this bottle of wine?" Damn, I hadn't thought about that.
We're already having classic, zany Blind Date tension (what will the crazy Blind Date bubble say about that?). I make my excuses and grab the jug.
"LET'S DATE!" I exclaim, following with, "Do you like pie?"
"Yes."
"What kind of pie do you like?"
"Apple."
Letting this sink in, I speak directly to the camera. "The date is already going really, really well," much to the annoyance of the field director, who once again explains the filming rules.
HERE'S A TASK
The field producer makes me drive the camera-rigged SUV (through L.A. traffic), follow the other SUV, and charm my date -- all at the same time! Several times I lose the van, and we have to stop filming as someone from the crew tells me to turn around.
I find out my date (I don't know her name yet) wants to be an actress (how surprising!) and works as a bartender. She, in turn, learns that I work as a motivational speaker who recently quit his job to pursue his dream of becoming a professional mime (studying in France under the master, Miou-Miou).
Then come the hard questions.
"Have you ever had to file a restraining order on any past boyfriends?"
"No."
"When was the last date you went on?"
"Two days ago," she perks. This upsets me.
"Oh, great! What's his name? What's his name?!"
"Josh."
"So this so-called Josh is my rival, huh?!" I spew with disgust, getting a bit possessive. My date (I still don't know her name) refuses to give me his phone number so I can call him right now.
"Do you want to see how fast I can drive this SUV?" I tell her, punching the accelerator. The camera crew seems nervous. "Do you think Josh could drive this fast? Huh?!"
OUR FIRST ZANY BLIND DATE ACTIVITY
Not to knock the creative juices (and production budget) behind Blind Date, but our first big dating activity involves going to a park in Burbank and drinking from my large bottle of $6.99 blush wine.
"Okay, every time you drink, you have to tell a deep, dark secret about yourself," I suggest.
My date (I have now learned she is called Emma) takes a swig of blush, and then reveals, "Back in high school, I used to go dumpster diving."
We share a laugh. It's my turn. I take a big slug of white zin, then look off into the distance.
"I once gouged a man's eye out with my thumb."
I immediately take another slug of wine. Game over.
MORE ZANY ACTIVITIES
Thank God we started drinking, because now I no longer have to drive the damn SUV; we get chauffeured around! I take time to swear a lot, so they'll have to bleep it out. And then comes the bragging. "I do competitive eating contests," I boast out of nowhere, as we sit in the back. "I can eat eight sticks of butter!"
We pull into a massage place in Burbank (I hate Burbank).
"Did you know [Blind Date host] Roger Lodge is only four foot nine?" I add. "He's a mere wisp of a man!"
The cameraman looks pissed.
"Okay, you guys were having great conversation, but we can't use it, because you started to talk about the show."
We go inside the massage place.
"I'm Peter, and the two of you will be getting massages today!" exclaims Peter, who will be giving us massages today.
I put down my large jug of vino and give Peter a big hug. He hugs back. I still hug Peter. He let's out a nervous laugh and lets go. I keep hugging him.
"This is Brenda," I say introducing my date.
"That's Emma."
"What-EVER!"
In a room separated by a curtain, we get naked under individual sheets and prepare for side by side massages. I make sure a good portion of my butt crack is showing, so it will need to be scrambled out.
They pull open the curtain and the massages begin. I use the time to impress Emma (I now know her name) with my extreme intellect.
"I used to study philosophy in college." She's intrigued. She sees a new side to me.
"I mostly studied Manwellian Discourses. Are you familiar with the philosopher Manwell?"
"No, I'm not."
"The philosopher Manwell said, 'Those that can't, shall,'" I expound. "And those that shall, shan't!"
She takes this in. We grow silent. The silence is broken by me accidentally seeing date Emma's naked butt and telling her so.
"Well, that's the only time you're going to get to see it naked," she huffs in a you-go-girl fashion. (It's more zany Blind Date tension.)
Man, America's going to think she is such a bitch (while I'll come across as lovable). But wait until America sees the evening portion of our date, which is coming up next.
Next: Evening Wear!
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