I recently auditioned for a game show. I think I signed something saying I wouldn’t talk about details, so I won’t mention the name of the show. Let’s just say that it involves singing, but it’s not “American Idol.” With my voice, there is only one singing-related show that I could even remotely consider as a possibility. Yep, that’s the one.

It all began as we signed a list and entered the testing room. A young man and woman were organizing the table, hanging signs, and doing a dozen other small chores. 

Although the entire process was an experience to remember, and possibly another article, a highlight of the day was watching everyone try to impress those in charge.  While we waited for the testing room to open, we milled about singly or in small groups.  Some groups stood near the registration table, telling stories about their love of country music and singing prowess. 

In addition to behavior, contestants obviously used their dress to stand out from the crowd. There were cowboy hats and boots aplenty (it was a country music show after all). Two men from Mississippi — though not related — looked exactly alike, wearing plaid shirts with matching John Deere caps.  One young woman sat beside me and when I turned to answer a question, I noticed she had glitter sprayed on one half of her face. I wondered what advantage this half-glow gave her, and now wondered if I should have added glitter or a hat to my outfit.

Eventually, I took a seat in the testing room. The first stage of eliminations began with a written test of our country music knowledge. But before that, there was still a great deal of waiting — and watching — to do. Two young women from Alabama sat in front of me. They talked loudly of many things including their love of nerdy men and country music. I noted that their voices became much louder when the two people in charge entered the room. At one point, they even started singing. 

How funny then, that when the doors shut and the test began, the true casting agent walked in.  Kudos to me, it happened at the same time I received a text message from Erin (my moral support) saying she wanted her coat. I stood up in the packed-like-sardines room, turned to the door, and handed Erin’s coat to the man just walking in. “Can you hand this to my daughter?” I asked, indicating Erin standing just behind him. He looked odd for a moment, then took the coat with a “Sure.” Turns out he was the guy in charge of selecting contestants and I had obviously just inconvenienced him. Great first impression, Mary!

Having made it past the written test, I was ready for the interview. Half a day later, I entered yet another small room armed with my name, age, and an interesting story about myself. Ever notice that when someone asks you to tell something interesting about you, you suddenly become the most boring human on the planet? All I had was the fact that I had knitted the socks I was wearing. 

Third or fourth in line, I had plenty of time to feel even more bland. Then, as luck would have it, chaos struck just before it was my turn to talk and get taped. The casting director gave us a short prompt on how to show our personality by telling a distinctive story — a story that would set us apart.  A soft-spoken woman with big hair  — the first to get taped — said out loud, “Then maybe I should have told you that I’m a preacher’s wife but I sell, ahem, adult toys.” Hysterical laughter ensued. I’m pretty sure she made it on the show, what with her personality, odd profession, and ability to know the lyrics to any and all songs ever written. 

In a perfect segue, I introduced myself and told about the time a student donated some old yard sale books to my classroom. One of the bags contained what could best be described as a racy book of epic proportions. Let’s just say I’m still employed because I found and removed that book before any students did. Anyways, it was much more entertaining than knitted socks.

I had the entire room laughing over my novel exploits, but I did not fare so well in the mock game show. 

Even though I will probably never make it on, I still had a great time watching people and listening to all around me. Yet, all was not lost,  because that soft-spoken preacher’s wife offered me a job. I haven’t accepted, but it’s good to know I have options.