Reality Check

2. Inner Leash Kid

When I was a kid, my mom was constantly irritated because I gawked at everything. I tended to wander around with my head tilted up at the sky or towards whatever struck my fancy. Apparently, going anywhere with me took ages (emphasis belongs to Laurie Benson).

Then, in sixth grade, I was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD, or attention deficiency in high-definition, as I prefer to call it), and she felt like a real b-word.

Fourteen years later, I still have the attention span of a brain-damaged squirrel.

I take medicine for it, the kind people attempt to buy off you in college, because I'm incapable of sitting still for more than three minutes unmedicated. Fortunately, my prescription allows me to function like a semi-normal adult. Unfortunately, it tends to wear off around seven or eight at night.

Why am I telling you this? The clock just struck 8:30 p.m. I'm sitting in a conference room at the Coral Beach Hotel for the Enlisted contestant information session, doing my best to listen to Sarah Whittingham, an executive producer at Reality Network.

It's not going well.

For people like me, paying attention to a debrief such as this one is akin to wading through molasses. Daydream land sucks you in like a black hole. Your brain wants to be anywhere but the place it needs to be. Have you ever seen a parent wrangling a kid with one of those leash backpacks? That very battle occurs in your head.

No need to fear, though. Noelle gave me the rundown on the premise of Enlisted, so you don't have to live in mystery much longer.

The show starts with twenty-four contestants, twelve men and twelve women. We mingle and go on dates and then, at the end of the week, we submit a list of our top three contestants of the opposite gender. If we match with anyone, we stay. If not, we get the boot.

Pretty simple, right?

Somehow, this information session lasts two full hours.

Sarah goes over all the perks of being an Enlisted star first. Each contestant is given their own bedroom with an en suite bathroom. The men stay in one beachfront villa, and the women are in another. Another perk of our living quarters is the chefs Enlisted has on staff. They'll cook our every meal, but we shouldn't worry, according to Sarah, because the villas come equipped with gyms.

I tune out around there. I can't help it. I wish I could tell you more about the Enlisted perks and villas, but I cannot. I also wish I could give you a solid excuse for this lapse in information, but in truth, I'm trying to figure out if Sarah's shoes are the same color as her skirt.

I decide that they are and tune back in while she's going over the rules. The ones I hear—we're already on slide five—are pretty straightforward. Most revolve around not getting naked on camera. We also aren't allowed to hit each other or steal anything from the villa. I'm pretty sure that's the law, which applies whether or not you're on Enlisted, but I suppose reiterating can't hurt.

If we're set up on a date, we have to go on said date. Otherwise, we're kicked off the show and aren't paid for that episode. Same thing with the couple's cabins. Once again, my ever-patient reader friend, I wish I could tell you what a couple's cabin is, but I seem to have missed that intriguing bit of information while analyzing Sarah's color coordination.

I start up a full-blown wrestling match with my inner leash kid when Sarah starts telling us what to expect on each episode. I'm dying to know the specifics of what will be my life for the next month or two, provided I don't get kicked off at the very beginning. However, I'm also reaching the fidgeting stage of this exercise in sitting still, which means paying attention is about as easy as a nun.

I catch most of it. Tomorrow night, we'll introduce ourselves to our fellow contestants (on a stage!) and mingle at a cocktail party. Then, we do the list thing.

We go on dates with everyone who's left for episode two. Then, we list three people again, except we rank them this time. Don't ask me why. All I know is that it relates to these mysterious cabins. Rinse and repeat for episode three.

Episodes four and five shake things up, but Sarah won't tell us how. I'm intrigued, but curiosity isn't enough to hold my attention, so I zone out until the question and answer portion.

A woman with a British accent, who I immediately dub British Bethany, asks the first question. "Aren't there supposed to be men?"

She makes an interesting point. Now that she mentions it, I realize that I don't see a single man in this room.

"The men are staying at a different hotel," Sarah explains. "Henry, my husband and co-executive producer, is debriefing them right now. We want your first interactions with Enlisted's male stars to be genuine, so you won't see them until the mixer."

Next, a brave soul asks if we're allowed to visit the men's villa, specifically their bedrooms—the answer is yes, by the way—but other than hers, all the other questions are boring. I hear each and every one of them, though, because my attention span decides that now, after the cabin news has long been dispensed, is the perfect time to behave.

Finally, two full hours after the debrief began, we sign away our rights via packets none of us read, and Sarah instructs us to get our beauty sleep. Orientation starts at nine sharp. Based on the excited chatter around me, Sarah definitely mentioned what orientation entails, and I definitely missed it.

Most of the contestants meander towards the elevator bank to the right of the conference room. Noelle, a brunette who sat in our row, and I veer to the left. I decide that our crowd is small enough for me to start with my stupid questions. 

"So, what's happening tomorrow?" I ask.

"Orientation, and then they get us camera-ready," Noelle explains unhelpfully.

"Orientation sounds fun, but I'm kind of nervous," says the brunette. "I auditioned on a whim. I didn't think they'd actually pick me." She tsk tsks at herself. "I'm Maddie, by the way."

Noelle and I introduce ourselves, and then Noelle shares how she signed us both up. Maddie seems kind of horrified, and I very much appreciate the solidarity.

"What's at orientation, again?" I ask. The 'again' is in there so Maddie thinks I forgot what Sarah said. Noelle is fully aware that I spend the majority of my unmedicated hours zoned out.

"They're coaching us on how to act on camera," Maddie explains.

Oh. I probably could have guessed that. Luckily, she exits on the third floor, so I don't have to wait much longer to ask Noelle the other question I should already know the answer to. 

"What are couple's cabins?" I demand the second the elevator doors close.

"They're beach houses where you stay with a guy if you both rank each other first."

I furrow my brows. "You move in together?" Lord have mercy on the poor guy who has to share a small living space with me. I mean, Noelle does it, but we're both first class passengers on the hot mess express, so she's basically immune to me at this point.

"No, it's just for a night."

Less mercy required. Still some mercy, but not the extra-large helping needed for an extended stay with Mia Benson.

Noelle and I part ways on the eighteenth floor. I crawl into bed and immediately zonk out, drifting off into dreams of cabins.