Short Story Sunday: Here’s my pitch
A creative’s cry for a new kind of reality
You arrive on an island with your significant other for what you believe will be a test of your relationship. You’re greeted by Mark Walburg. But, it’s not the Mark Wahlburg you’re thinking of. That’s ok, we’ll move past it. You separate from your partner and, for the next four weeks, you embark on a journey of self discovery and introspection. You stay in a villa but sleep in a twin bed. The tap water tastes like tequila. It’s tequila. You’re contractually obligated to start 3 fights a day. At least one birthday party that ends in tears. Everyone is covid free. Welcome to Isolation Island.
No, not your thing? Ok let’s try this. We drop you and a friend of your choice in an Amazon warehouse in middle America. The clock starts now. The more toilet paper orders you fill, the more bathroom breaks you get. A covid ridden Gordon Ramsay stands on a forklift spewing insults and spraying droplets. You must make eye contact but avoid the splash zone. Every 3 hours, he chooses a contestant. We don’t know where they go, but they don’t come back. No cell reception. This is, The Amazon Race.
Ok let’s try another: Twelve hot, single, eligible humans are hand picked by Guy Fieri and invited to a lavish home in Central California. The weather is wonderful this time of year. Cameras are on 24/7. The nation becomes invested. The twist? There’s an infected individual among us. Beds are 12 feet apart. Dinnertimes are staggered. All alcohol comes in sealed ziplock bags. Walkie talkies are necessary. The say love is blind, but is it stupid? Who will risk it all for true love? Tonight, on Pandemic in Paradise.
So, here’s my actual pitch: In a world where everyday is a mystery. Where bad things appear to be around every corner. A year where disaster strikes when you most expect it, why not opt into drama we can control. Let’s lean into our reality and coexist with the disease we’ve come to know and love and use it for our entertainment pleasure. Let’s leave the rest of this year to the reality TV geniuses. Replace congress with the head writer at E!. Give Kanye that presidency. Because there is nothing more predictable and safe than living out the rest of these days snuggled in the constant comfort of a scripted reality.
