|
|
,
Add to My Group(s)
Add to My Group(s)
By Charlotte Laws (about the author)
Become a Fan -- Page 1 of 3 page(s)
It helps to be thin, young and hot. Middle-aged, plump and plain are not on the Top 10 list of attributes The Apprentice casting directors seek in a contestant. Brainpower comes into play, but only after you pass the physical appearance test. After all, this is TV, folks.
On March 9, 2006 at 4:00 am, a blonde Trump Corp wannabe named Farrah Evagues stole through the dark with her blanket, mittens and foldable lounge chair, staking out a first-in-line position at the Globe Theatre inside Los Angeles ' Universal Studios.
Farrah was not the only rebel who pooh-poohed the rules on the NBC website that stated: "Arrive no earlier than 6:00 am. " Twenty other daredevils braved the biting, 45-degree air with Farrah until two or three hours later when the bulk of applicants arrived. All hoped to be chosen as contestants for The Apprentice and to meet Donald Trump in person.
Los Angeles provided the backdrop for the first casting call; the show would be recruiting candidates in 16 other cities, including Chicago, New York, Honolulu and Phoenix.
I arrived at 6:45 with my resume, prepared to undertake two roles: as an applicant and undercover reporter. Why shiver when one can both shiver and also ask questions?
I weaved through the long line of freezing people, inquiring about jobs, qualifications and reasons for wanting to work for "The Donald. " Few applicants wore winter coats, yet many were cloaked with paranoia.
My questioning began: "What do you do for a living? " Most people were tight-lipped.
"I 'm not going to tell you. I might get disqualified, " said one.
Another replied, "I have my answer, but I 'm not going to tell you what it is. "
A woman, whom I later learned was the former Miss Yugoslavia, gave me an impolite, cold stare. No words. Maybe she feared I 'd steal her identity and blurt out, "Great idea. I 'll be the former Miss Yugoslavia, too. "
Perhaps The Apprentice hopefuls thought I had the power to vote them off the island. They were clearly "island " experts. I overheard conversations about Survivor, Deal or No Deal, America 's Top Model, and other reality shows.
The only seemingly honest answers I got were:
"I 'm a demolition derby manager, "
"I 'm a professional reality show contestant. I 've tried out for The Apprentice three times. "
"I 'm a teacher. "
In fact, three applicants told me they were teachers, including 58-year old Lancaster resident Bill Newyear who appeared to be the oldest in line. He told me how his generation comprises 25% of the population.
"It makes good TV to have an older Everyman, " Bill said. "If I get selected, it would show Trump 's commitment to people like me, that we are not ready to go out to pasture yet. "
My second question: "Why do you want to be the Apprentice? "
Again, most applicants were not forthcoming, but two answered, "I love golf " and "I need formal grooming to make me into the perfect candidate for the workplace. "
As an employment recruiter, Orange County resident Diana London didn 't care if she was chosen. She was there to pick up clients from what she deemed an educated pool of candidates and to sneak a manila envelope to Trump, which revealed details about an invention she hoped would prove profitable for them both.
Become a Fan -- Page 1 of 3 page(s)
On March 9, 2006 at 4:00 am, a blonde Trump Corp wannabe named Farrah Evagues stole through the dark with her blanket, mittens and foldable lounge chair, staking out a first-in-line position at the Globe Theatre inside Los Angeles ' Universal Studios.
Farrah was not the only rebel who pooh-poohed the rules on the NBC website that stated: "Arrive no earlier than 6:00 am. " Twenty other daredevils braved the biting, 45-degree air with Farrah until two or three hours later when the bulk of applicants arrived. All hoped to be chosen as contestants for The Apprentice and to meet Donald Trump in person.
Los Angeles provided the backdrop for the first casting call; the show would be recruiting candidates in 16 other cities, including Chicago, New York, Honolulu and Phoenix.
I arrived at 6:45 with my resume, prepared to undertake two roles: as an applicant and undercover reporter. Why shiver when one can both shiver and also ask questions?
I weaved through the long line of freezing people, inquiring about jobs, qualifications and reasons for wanting to work for "The Donald. " Few applicants wore winter coats, yet many were cloaked with paranoia.
My questioning began: "What do you do for a living? " Most people were tight-lipped.
"I 'm not going to tell you. I might get disqualified, " said one.
Another replied, "I have my answer, but I 'm not going to tell you what it is. "
A woman, whom I later learned was the former Miss Yugoslavia, gave me an impolite, cold stare. No words. Maybe she feared I 'd steal her identity and blurt out, "Great idea. I 'll be the former Miss Yugoslavia, too. "
Perhaps The Apprentice hopefuls thought I had the power to vote them off the island. They were clearly "island " experts. I overheard conversations about Survivor, Deal or No Deal, America 's Top Model, and other reality shows.
The only seemingly honest answers I got were:
"I 'm a demolition derby manager, "
"I 'm a professional reality show contestant. I 've tried out for The Apprentice three times. "
"I 'm a teacher. "
In fact, three applicants told me they were teachers, including 58-year old Lancaster resident Bill Newyear who appeared to be the oldest in line. He told me how his generation comprises 25% of the population.
"It makes good TV to have an older Everyman, " Bill said. "If I get selected, it would show Trump 's commitment to people like me, that we are not ready to go out to pasture yet. "
My second question: "Why do you want to be the Apprentice? "
Again, most applicants were not forthcoming, but two answered, "I love golf " and "I need formal grooming to make me into the perfect candidate for the workplace. "
As an employment recruiter, Orange County resident Diana London didn 't care if she was chosen. She was there to pick up clients from what she deemed an educated pool of candidates and to sneak a manila envelope to Trump, which revealed details about an invention she hoped would prove profitable for them both.
Charlotte Laws, Ph.D. is an author, columnist and member of the Greater Valley Glen Council in Southern California. She is a former Los Angeles Commissioner and is the host of the TV show "Uncommon Sense." (more...)
The views expressed in this article are the sole responsibility of the author
and do not necessarily reflect those of this website or its editors.
 Contact Author |
Contact Editor |
 View Authors' Articles |
Comments
The time limit for entering new comments on this article has expired.
This limit can be removed. Our paid membership program is designed to give you many benefits, such as removing this time limit. To learn more, please click here.
| No comments |