Hi!
If you and I spoke in early April, you probably heard me say, “I’m telling too many people this, but… I’m competing on The Price is Right on 4/20! Lololol.” The episode has now aired, so I can finally dish about my experience on the longest-running game show on television. Buckle up! Unless you’re from CBS legal, in which case do not buckle up, I don’t think I’m violating any paperwork I signed but I’d love to not find out, stop reading here plz, ok, thank you, xo.
A few months ago, my friend Jenna auditioned for The Price is Right and listed me as a casting suggestion on her application form. A casting producer reached out to me and asked if I’d like to audition, which was a thrilling call to receive out of the blue. Who doesn’t have a vague desire to test their skills on a competition show? Who wouldn’t enjoy being sought out to audition for name brand network television? I was unemployed at the time, so the offer felt like a potential godsend of a windfall. I said an enthusiastic yes and scheduled a Zoom audition for a few days later.
To prepare for the audition, I watched The Price is Right for the first time. The show is legendary, but I’d never actually seen it – maybe on mute at a gym once, and sure, in that episode of How I Met Your Mother, but never sound-on-full-attention-whole-episode. I had no preexisting attachment to the show, no lifelong dream of hearing “David Carliner COME ON DOWN!” This took some pressure off the audition, but it also meant I was underprepared for the unprecedented chance to book the show in advance. Since 1972, competitors on The Price is Right have been picked from hundreds of studio audience members at a given taping; because of COVID, season 49 was filming without a studio audience. All competitors for the show were pre-cast, so I would for sure get to play if picked. How many people does he need, how many boys how many girls!!!!
To make up for my late introduction to TPiR, I watched at least a dozen episodes at 1.5 speed in a single day. I understood the show’s appeal before the first commercial break: a delirious amount of prizes are up for grabs, and a shocking amount of those prizes actually go home with contestants. It is such an uncomplicated pleasure to watch normal people freak the fuck out because they’ve won a brand new car, and it often happens more than once in an episode. The games are also perfect for playing along at home – no need to buy a vowel or know what a Potent Potable is, just yell out a number. I graduated quickly from wanting to compete on a game show to wanting to compete on this game show.
The Zoom audition lasted five minutes, but I worked myself into such a frenzy during it that I needed a full hour to settle my body after. The memory is a blur, but I know for certain that I capital-D debased myself. The casting producer ended the interview by asking me “why would you be the best The Price is Right competitor of all time?”, to which I responded, “because my roommates are all working from home outside my room, but I’m SCREEEEEAMING THAT I WANT TO WIN!!!” (I screamed that). I then took advantage of my surroundings and jumped up and down on my bed. Humiliating, but guess what? I got it, “it” being a text telling me to “*shouting emoji* COME ON DOWN” on 4/20. Main character syndrome momentarily validated, I rolled up my sleeves and started to study.
As much as I’ve always wanted to compete on a game show, I’ve really always wanted to live inside the training montage from a movie or movie trailer. I trained my ass off for The Price is Right, and as you read the next few sentences, please either play or imagine the song “Watch Me Shine” from the Legally Blonde soundtrack. How exactly did I prepare? I learned the game theory of Bidder’s Row, Showcase Showdown, and spinning the wheel. I diligently watched YouTube clips of all 77 games I might play so I’d have a passing familiarity with whichever one I faced. I watched so many episodes of the show that I lost my grip on reality, screaming “switch! SWITCH!” and “EIGHT!” at the TV like Deborah from Tucson could hear me helping her. I rehearsed my shout-outs (“I want to say hi to Klump girls, Kyle, my family…”) and my banter with Drew Carey (“well my last name is Carliner, so I’d love to win that car, haha”). Most of all, I visualized winning a car, selling it as long as it wasn’t a Jeep Wrangler, and paying off the remainder of my student loans. I trained until it felt ridiculous, and then I watched like two more episodes. If you haven’t reached the bridge of “Watch Me Shine,” scrub forward to 2:07 and wait until Joanna Pacitti crescendoes. Did she crescendo? Great, continue reading.
It was time for me to shine.
4/20: COVID test passed, cute outfit assembled, running shoes laced tight, I stomped up to the CBS lot ready to win a goddamn car. There were already a few other contestants lined up by the entrance; I could tell they were there for The Price is Right because a majority had Drew Carey’s face on their shirts. I’d wondered if the energy amongst the competition would be icy or hostile, but I felt an instant camaraderie with the other girls. It was like we were in the final round of a sorority rush: we’d all been Chosen based on our assorted charms to advance up to a final obstacle, and even though we technically stood in each other’s way, it felt like we were all in it together. I was kind of sad right away that we weren’t, like, on an island for 39 days where we could really grow close. I chatted amiably with a middle school teacher from Long Beach and hoped she wouldn’t see the phrase “not here to make friends” embroidered on my socks.
Eventually some mega-PPEed CBS pages shuffled us through security and over to a holding area. Glancing around at the full group, I clocked that there were more than nine of us – nine being the number of contestants who appear on an episode of TPiR. This made me uneasy, and soon our wrangler arrived to explain what I’d suspected: for each taping, the show invites a few too many contestants in case anyone flakes or fails their COVID test. We’d all shown up, so three of us wouldn’t get to play. To make matters worse, instead of revealing the unlucky chumps right then and sending them home, we’d all stay to create an element of surprise when George Gray called our names.
Can you guess why I’d take the time to explain all that? Yup, I was one of the three chumps. I came as close as humanly possible to going on The Price is Right without actually going on The Price is Right. I waited the whole episode to hear my name – maybe this time, maybe this time, but no, never. Suuuuuuuuuch a bummer. Are you bummed? I’m bummed, and I’m typing this two months later!
I didn’t completely surrender hope that I’d hear my name until the bitter end, but I had a feeling it wasn’t going to happen for me after the episode’s third game. George Gray announced that a high school football coach would be playing “Time is Money,” and my heart sank; that was the game I’d told the episode’s director I wanted to play the most, so if it happened to be in the lineup, why would they keep me waiting in the wing to play a different game? They wouldn’t, and they didn’t.
As you read this next bit, please either play or imagine the song “Legally Blonde” from Legally Blonde: The Musical.
EVERY PRIZE I DIDN’T GET A CHANCE TO WIN AT MY TAPING
Four designer His & Her watches
A trip to St. Pete's Beach, FL and a trip to Portland, OR
6Pc Milkwaukee Power Tools & Accessories
A Hyundai Accent SEL
Four kitchen countertop appliances and a kitchen cart
$20,000
Two Gucci purses and a wallet
$5,377 of home office furniture, including a Mac desktop and a printer
Two patio heaters
An outdoor barbecue island
An electric skateboard and helmet
A Chevy Spark
Showcase #1: a home gym, a hammock, an eReader, and a Nissan Versa S
Showcase #2: a trip to Montana, a new sofa and smart coffee table, five board games and a foosball table, and a Kia Forte FE
Driving home with nothing but an oversized name tag sticker and a bladder full of piss I’d held the whole taping, I indulged in feeling really bad for myself. I’d wasted all that time preparing; I’d backed out of a conflictingly-scheduled trip to Zion that I’d been looking forward to for ages; I’d told too many people I was cast (jinxing myself), and now I had to update them all on what a flop the experience was. Worst of all, I’d gotten myself so invested in going on a show I hadn’t previously cared about. Now I cared! Now I wanted all that stuff! I’d leaned hard into unbridled consumerist greed, and I couldn’t process the fact that I’d left the studio without at least a boat. I thought to myself “well, this’ll be a funny story for the newsletter,” and then I thought “FUCK the newsletter! I want MONEY!” Four days after not winning a new car, my car’s catalytic converter was stolen. I had a dark moment.
Buuuuuuut time heals all wounds, that’s showbiz baby, blah blah blah, I feel fine about it now. It really could’ve been worse, and in fact it was worse for the other two contestants who didn’t get to play. They had driven in from Joshua Tree and San Diego; at least I hadn’t road tripped to my rejection. And as disappointing as it was to not play, it honestly would’ve been worse if my name had been called near the end of the episode. In that case, I would’ve only had one or two shots to get off Bidder’s Row. Most likely I would’ve still walked away with nothing, but that brief appearance would’ve barred me for years from auditioning for other competition shows. I’ve decided that everything happens for a reason, and the reason I didn’t get to play is that I will be cast on Survivor within the next two years. Good for me! Can’t wait!
That said, I will die if I get to the island and Jeff Probst tells me I’m a safety alternate contestant again. That won’t happen, right? It can’t happen. It won’t. Right? And just like that, I have a new greatest fear <3