The Infiltrator: How I Got on "Blind Date" Posing As a Complete Nutjob, Part 4 A comedy article
by Harmon Leon 1,681 3 08/26/2009 05:44 AM 6927 views
I had successfully infiltrated the reality TV show Blind Date, playing a mime-in-training who wears lederhosen and eats vast quantities of butter [read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 here]. My date, Emma, was probably dying to go home, but we still had one more location to shoot: a romantic after-dinner drink at a nearby bar.
A goddamn cowboy bar. Who picks these locations?
By now, we were so drunk that they moved us into a taxi.
We arrive at the bar to find out a country band will be playing soon. Before they get a chance to go on, I decide to serenade my blind date. I jump onstage and grab one of the mics.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am here from syndicated television's Blind Date," I explain, trying to pimp some applause. The redneck crowd mildly responds. "I'd like to take this opportunity to sing a very special song I wrote in honor of my date."
Again, more light applause. The cameras roll. I clear my throat. Date Emma looks up with admiration. I hold the mic very close to my mouth. I start loudly screaming her name over and over again, like I'm in horrific pain.
"EMMA! EMMA! EMMA! EMMA!"
Confusion, then anger spreads across the crowd.
"EMMA! EMMA! EMMA! EMMA!"
I keep doing this until, I Shakespeare you not, the PA system blows out.
SADLY, OUR DATE IS OVER BY 10:00 PM
Now what would being on Blind Date be without securing the good night kiss at the door (accompanied by a crazy bubble summing up our entire dating experience)? Even though I've mentally tormented this poor woman the entire evening, I still bet I can turn the tables ... for the sake of good TV.
"I had a really good time, blah, blah, blah, etc..." And then we kiss.
Victory is mine!
We share a closed-mouthed kiss for the entire five-second duration. (In your face, Josh!) Then I pipe up for better TV.
"I have a confession to make. I'm not really a millionaire with a yacht." Before she can respond, I lick her face and run away.
They ask me to reshoot the scene. Bonus: a second kiss!
Afterwards, the camera follows me down the street for the famous postdate solo shot. Suddenly, dozens of little Latino children come running out of nowhere; we're surrounded. We have become minor celebrities of the entire cul-de-sac.
"They're on Blind Date! They're on Blind Date! Are you going to marry her? Are you going to marry her?!"
Because of the fanfare, we have to move to a different neighborhood for our one-on-ones with the camera -- including the most important part, sharing with the Blind Date viewing audience whether there'll be a second date!
The closing interview.
"Hank was a lot of fun! Yes, I would definitely go out with him again!" my date tells the camera.
It's my turn. The camera rolls.
"I'd rather be hit in the back of the head with a shovel than go out with her again!"
Whether it's true or not, it makes for good TV, and good TV is the American Dream!
Watch the full segment here:
Harmon Leon is an American journalist and humorist, and the author of five books, including The American Dream. Follow his infiltration exploits at Freedomhaters.org.
Harmon Leon rules. I withdraw my previous judgement, which I'm not sure I ever stated for the record (that he was a preening douche). I made that based solely on the whiteboy dreads, which I now see are clearly only for ironic effect.
Any idiot can put on a kilt or a Civil War uniform. It takes someone special to wear lederhosen on a first date. Kudos.
not only did she get in on the act and order you eight sticks of butter, she also would go on another date with you... This might seem like success, but in reality it's just a way of making me even more confused as to why I'm currently single...
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