This is what the audience wanted to see.

Be sure to read Part 1 First

Our flight into Chicago was uneventful. Since we “hated” one another, we weren’t placed beside each other on the plane (the show set that up). Once we got our bags we were greeted by a limo driver holding a sign that read “The Jenny Jones Show.” I could NOT believe that this was going to happen! Our driver took us around the city, showing us points of interest. Finally, he dropped us off at our hotel which was very nice.

We decided to go to dinner together. I mean, what were we supposed to do. The most difficult part in all of this was acting like I hated Sara. There we were in Chicago and we couldn’t even enjoy it (or act like we were). All of us were scared of being outed as phonies so we didn’t talk at all in the street or at dinner. Jenny Jones picked up that tab as well. Once we got back to the hotel, we all went our separate ways since we had an early morning the next day. As I was flipping through the channels, I saw what I thought looked like porn. I flipped back and by golly it was! I quickly called Sara and Ari and asked them both if they had it too. Nope.

The next morning we were greeted by a rep from the show in the hotel’s lobby. We walked a few blocks, being blown by the wind the entire time (no wonder it’s the windy city). When we reached the studio we saw signs for Jerry Springer and Jenny Jones (they both taped in the same place). Hopping on the elevator, I could hardly contain my excitement! The assistant led us to our green rooms. I was shocked when Sara and Ari were put in the same room and I was the outcast.

In my room, there was another girl sitting there. We sat there in silence for a little while and then the small talk ensued. She was from Utah and she was in beauty school with her former friend who, I assumed, was in the other green room. I can’t do the room justice, but I’ll try. We had a very small television that only had one channel and even that had static, there were two warm, flat Cokes, and two stale sandwiches. Whatever. A new lady came in and said that she was there to do our hair and make-up. While she was working on me, she told me that she did make-up for Playboy and “those girls don’t look anything like that in real life.” While I was getting gussied up for my debut, assistants kept running in and out, asking us questions about our stories and then telling us that the other girls were saying terrible things about us. This went on for an hour. When both of us were ready, we were sitting on the couch waiting to be called onstage. The door opened and Jenny herself was standing there. I was soooo excited!!!! “So you’re the other women,” she said coolly. Ouch. She asked us some questions and, I’ve held my tongue long enough, she was a bitch. At least to us.

By the time we were standing backstage Sara and I were actually pissed off at one another. We had NEVER had a fight and I was furious with her for being so nasty about me and vice-versa. The audience erupted in cheers and we walked out on stage. The first love triangle went first and told their story for a half an hour. Audience members booed and clapped and were really going after the guy. Whew! I was safe. The original plan was for us to fight and then realize the error of our ways and leave as one big happy family. We were sitting on stage the entire time so it was a little uncomfortable sitting in front of everyone and not talking. Finally it was our turn.

Next time: Batter Up!

Links:

He’ll Learn To Love Me: Part 1

Could you lie to this woman?

“Allie, when you get off drugs and come down offa your high, you can call me back and talk sensibly to me. Until then, I don’t want to hear from you!” And on that note, my mother slammed down the phone. Wow! I didn’t expect that. All I was doing was calling her to tell her that I was about to board a plane for Chicago to be on the Jenny Jones Show. Now when I say I was going to be “on” the Jenny Jones Show, I mean just that. None of this “I’m-gonna-sit-in-the-audience-and-be-on-t.v.” nonsense. That’s not my style. When I go, I go big.

It started as a prank. I love practical jokes more than anything else. It was a warm day in April 1993 and I was watching television with my roommate, Sara. While flipping through the channels I stopped just in time to hear the announcer say, “If you’re two friends fighting over the same man, give us a call. You could be a guest on our show.” Before I actually thought about what I was doing, I had the phone in my hand dialing the 800 number. I knew that I’d only be able to leave a brief message on the show’s voicemail, but it was worth a shot.

“Thanks for calling the Jenny Jones Show. What’s your story?” the female voice chirped. It wasn’t a recording. Adrenaline kicked in and I started rambling about how my roommate had been dating this guy and I’d stop at nothing to have him. I had seen enough of Basic Instinct, Single White Female, and Fatal Attraction to concoct an amazing story. “Well, I’ll pass this along to the producers and we might call you back if they’re interested.” I walked back into the common area, a little dejected. “I tried,” I told Sara. She went to work and I headed out to class.

An hour and a half later I got back to the apartment and I checked my voicemail. “Hi Allie, this is Julia from the Jenny Jones Show. Could you please call me back collect?” OMG! OMG! OMG! I frantically dialed the number and when she answered I could hardly contain my giddiness. I related the entire story to her and she told me that she needed to talk with Sara to verify our story. I gave her Sara’s work number and called her as soon as I hung up with Julia so I could give her a heads up. Luckily, she had been in the room when I was making up the story earlier in the day, so she knew the basic idea of what was going on.

After a few minutes, my phone rang again and it was Julia. “Hey, I need the name and phone number of the guy involved.” Shit! I hadn’t thought that far in advance. I didn’t know any guy who would go along with this story except my boyfriend, Ari. I blurted out his name and number, hung up the phone, and ran over to his apartment. He lived only a building or two away from me so I made it just in time to spew the same story to him before the phone rang. “Make me sound like a bitch,” I hissed. He went along with the story and hung up. “She said she’d be in touch,” he told me. My hopes of going nationwide were being dashed until later that evening. My phone rang and Julia informed me, “Okay, your story is great. We want you on the show. What’s the closest airport to you?” I told her and she added one more tiny detail: ALL of us involved had to go.

“But we need all three of you,” Julia told me. Ari had zero interest in going on the show. “I know how they tear guys up on that show. No way!” I begged, pleaded, offered sexual favors (not really), but he resisted. When Julia called him back, he told her the same story. For ten minutes they went back and forth: him trying to NOT be on the show and her trying to get him on there. Then I started hearing him talking numbers with her. WTF?! “Nah, I’m not doin’ that for $200. No way.” Back and forth again and the numbers kept getting higher. Finally he said, “600 dollars?! I’ll do it.” She agreed to pay him, but he was told not to tell either of us about the money (we were getting a free trip to Chi Town, that was good enough for us; plus we didn’t even think that getting paid was an option.

“I’m in,” Ari said after he hung up the phone. “We’re leaving tomorrow evening at 5:30.”

Next Time: Winging it in the Windy City