Reality TV

 "Fuck yeah!" Rob yelled out as he checked his email before work.  He called Wawa while trying to think of an excuse to call out.  His friend Kyle answered.  "Yo, it's Rob.  I'm not coming in today.  Tell Krista I woke up and started puking or something."  Kyle laughed and said, "Alright.  So what's the real reason you're calling out?"  Rob glanced back at the computer screen with a huge smile on his face and said, "Dude, you won't fuckin' believe it.  I'm gonna be on the next season of Jersey Shore!"  On the other end of the line, Kyle was shaking his head.  "Ok," he said, "why does that mean you can't come in to work today?"  Rob replied, "Fuck work, man!  I'm taking the day off to celebrate!" and hung up the phone.

Ever since he first heard there was going to be a new cast for the next season of Jersey Shore, Rob had thought of almost nothing else.  He felt he was wasting away his talent, working at a damn Wawa in South Philly.  And he was definitely too good for the tiny apartment he rented out.  This was it, though.  His big break.  After making the big bucks during the show, he'd be able to get paid thousands just to make appearances at clubs and bars.  Places he would never have been able to get into before.  He was on the cusp of living the life of his dreams.

Rob started a mental list of the things he would have to do to get ready for the show.  I'm gonna have to work out like a muthafucker, he thought to himself, maybe even get some roids.  Nothing makes good TV like sex between two hot people.  And that was it.  He started texting his friends, telling them the good news.  He got out of the chair at his computer and plopped down onto his raggedy couch.  It was quite possibly the ugliest couch on Earth.  It was a shit-green color with a mustard-yellow floral pattern.  It looked like Rob's vomit after a night of heavy drinking.  He relaxed, infinitely pleased with himself.  Who the fuck needs a high school diploma when you can get a job on TV?  Rob had dropped out during his junior year, after his grades fell too low to be able to play for his high school football team (he was a linebacker).  That was 6 years ago, and he was 23 now.  His cell phone rang.  It was Brad.

"Yo Rob, just got your text.  That's fuckin' awesome, dude!" Brad yelled through the phone.  "I know, man, I'm fuckin' psyched!  This my break, man.  Fuck school and football, man, I'ma be a TV star!" Rob yelled back holding the phone in front of his face instead of up to his ear.  When he had calmed down enough to hold the phone like a normal person, he heard the question he had been dying to hear ever since he had to quit football.  "So, you gonna bring me around to any celebrity parties, bro?" Brad asked.  Fuck no, Rob thought to himself as he said back, "Hell yeah, man, you know it!"  He hung up and thought about all the new famous friends he'd be making, and knew he wouldn't have time for these small-time nobodies anymore.

Over the next few months, Rob went to work just often enough to avoid getting fired.  He was planning on quitting before leaving to film, but he needed some income until then.  On top of rent, bills, and food, he had to pay for steroids, a gym membership, and all the Armani Exchange he could get his hands on.  After all, he told himself, I gotta be ballin' on TV.  Finally, the day came when he left his little South Philly apartment for the glitz and glamour of South Jersey and beyond.  As he pulled up to the house he would spend the summer in, he knew that this show would be that first step to being the next great action movie star.  His last thought before he set foot inside the house was, Thank God for reality TV.