The Unexpected Contestant

-         The betrayal that wasn’t really one -

I was at my mom’s house when my phone died. I took her ipad and started stalking my exes and frenemies as usual when an email notification appeared at the top of the screen: You’ve been selected to be part of Occupation Double Trouble in Sicily!

Occupation Double Trouble is a popular dating reality show that’s been going on for about 10 years in my country. The goal of the show is to ‘find love’, which gets each couple a house, a car, and for some reason a full makeover. As if these people needed one! They only pick the hottest and most extravagant people. All the contestants are worse than one another personality-wise, fame-whores and influencers without no soul or talent and I judge them, even though I watch it religiously since the first episode a decade ago.

This email must be a spam because it’s certainly not for my 65 year-old mother. No. It’s from a legitimate email address. I open the email and it hits me like a slap in the face: the photo of me in a black wedding dress for a photoshoot for work. In the forest at dusk. Surrounded by animal skulls. Evil eyes and skull jewelry cascading on me like glimmering stars through the bleak sundown. And there it was, the full profile my mom had completed behind my back:

Name: Tricia Trenner

Age: 31

Occupation: Writer for a witchcraft magazine and professional tarot reader.

Why are you single: Because no guy is strange enough for me.

What do you look for in a partner: He must be open-minded, interested in the occult and know the importance of family and loyalty. Or I will curse him. *Jk, jk, jk*

Why did your last relationship end: He broke up with me because he was schizophrenic and my face was starting looking like a demon to him. You now, it happens.

What makes you stand out from the other candidates: I am spiritual. I am esoteric. I reached my full potential and am living my life in perfect equilibrium. I know I can bring good vibes in a group and create a magical atmosphere perfect for that type of show.

All these words. They sounded exactly like me. My mother filled up an application on my behalf to take part in the most watched reality tv show of the whole country. AND I GOT SELECTED. I’M A FINALIST FOR REAL. I’m in shock. I don’t know if I’m excited or completely repulsed by the idea.

I scream at my mom to come talk to me, in the exact same tone that she would call me when I did something fucked up as a kid. I showed her the email. In an instant, her face lights up, she claps her hands in an overly excited way and screams ‘MY DAUGHTER WILL BE A TV STAR! I knew you would never dare submit an application yourself so I did it for you. I had a feeling you would be picked. I was right! You have to show yourself to the world, my special girl! Get out of your own shadow!’

All that flattery and good advice started to take effect because deep down, I have to admit that I always dreamed of being semi-famous. I don’t have any real talent but I’m still kind of cute, so maybe I should exploit this while it’s still ripe. Well, I’m good at spirituality stuff and at reading tarot cards, and honestly my vibe is pretty good as a person. I’m a good visualizer and I manifest a lot of things that I want. I cast effective spells also I believe. I want to find love, sure, but I doubt I’ll find it with these types of people on the show. Even with the strongest spell. I’m more likely to find my dream guy working at the morgue or selling enchanted candles in a witchcraft shop. I take a deep breath and yell to my mom ‘I’M IN!’

-         The first day of the show -

A couple of weeks later and I am arriving at the hotel for filming the premiere. When I meet the other girls, I stick out like a sore thumb. They are all thin, tanned, blonde or with long expensive hair extensions paired with the no-makeup-makeup look, which is 100% a trick if you want my opinion. They all look effortless. I know it took forever, sneaky bitches. Like they don’t try too hard. I’m the total opposite. I’m wearing a long Victorian laced black dress with compensated snakeskin boots and a feathered purse and I’m drowning in jewelry. I’m even sporting a headband with gold leaves, not unlike a tiara but for witches. This is going to be…Interesting to say the least. We all got to pick a dress from the wide rack. I found a long-sleeved floral dress with a dark felt hat and I asked the make-up artist for a white-skin dark-eyes red-lips type of makeup. I want to show the world, well, the nation, that the underdog might not be as conventionally pretty, but she is well damn more interesting. Or am I? I’m starting to doubt myself, but it doesn’t last too long because the host is coming to interview us one by one. When the interview is done, we go back to our rooms and pack because tomorrow we fly out for Sicily to meet our potential partners. It feels like my heart is beating into my ass or something. Nerves.

-         Sicily and Dave Meow -

Everything goes by so fast that it felt like I just closed my eyes and now I’m on a plane to Sicily. The mob’s origin story! If anything, I would like more to date a mob guy than a gym guy who owns a protein shake company for fuck’s sake. The plan today is to go back to the Sicilian hotel, take hours to get dressed up, and go for the ultimate first impression challenge: the speed dating. At the beginning of every season, the 8 guys and 8 girls meet each other for the first time in a speed dating date of 3 minutes. It’s the best part. You can see the initial reactions, when the chemistry is so off it’s entertaining or when they hit it off and you know they’re going to be that boring couple that stays together the entire time and win just because they stuck together and didn’t cheat for a couple of weeks like the others sleazeballs.

All dressed up, I walk down the marble stairs looking like an absolute exquisite modern witch to the huge restaurant where we will have the dates. Someone indicates me to sit next to an empty table near the piano and I wait. I look around and I can’t even see the other girls since the restaurant is so big, and they got us isolated to not see everyone else. I'm kind of overheating, maybe I will meet THE ONE! I still have my hopes up. I’m contemplating my skull ring dreamily when I feel the touch of a hand on my shoulder.

I look up and the guy I’m seeing is flashing a car salesman Colgate type of smile, he is sporting a dark back coiffe like a hockey player with eyes so green they’re like neon. There are 3 cameras surrounding us. I have an uneasy feeling, you know the kind of feeling you have when someone tries to sell you the most expensive item in the store because they think you’re dumb and you buy it. Because you’re dumb. That type of feeling. He sits down and introduces himself:

-         I’m Dave. I’m a professional hockey player and I own a part of a gym. I believe fitness and good health is the best way to go, man.

He called me ‘man’. I start laughing because I find it odd how familiar or aloof he is about the fact that I’m an unknown woman. I reply:

-         My name’s Tricia and I write for a witchcraft magazine, and I can’t lift a dumbbell for shit but I can tell your future in your tea leaves, man.

He looks at me expressionless, not knowing if I’m joking or not. He finally mutters something:

-         Well, you do look like a witch, tho. But, in a good way, I mean, witches…Witches are hot. I mean, I’ve never seen a real one, but yeah, they’re cool, yeah. Intriguing. He takes a sip of his drink.

-         Ah, witches don’t exist. But spiritual people? Yeah we do. There are tons of us, we just stay in the shadows because we don’t want to spoil our secrets to the masses. So you’ve never met anyone…Esoteric?

He looks down, cough a little, and places his long hair behind one ear before continuing:

-         Huh, not that I know of. Well, I’m not too sure what esoteric means though. You mean psychic?

-         Yeah, kind of.

-         Oh! Oh yeah I think I know one! My mom says we come from a cursed family blessed with a special gift and all that. She always carries around her little special deck of cards. Lots of lavender baths on a full moon and stuff. Candles and crystals before every game, it’s her way of helping me win, and I guess it works, you know, these type of things. Psychic, yeah, I don’t know, maybe.

It’s kind of cute how he seems totally oblivious that his moms is knee-deep into magic. He is one of us and he doesn’t even know it yet. It’s like he seems to think every mom is doing rituals and cleansing baths all the time. It was about to get interesting when a bell rings, meaning it’s time to change partners. Shit, I really felt a connection here, despite my prejudices against hockey players.

Hockey player Dave kind of scored straight into the net, if you know what I mean!

The other 7 candidates were, how can I say this without being a bitch, awkward. Too short, too exotic, too pretentious, too superficial, too shiny, uninteresting like an algebra book, even a judgmental one who made a comment about me looking like I’m waiting to find my warlock.

When the speed dating is over, the camera interviews us one by one again. I’m so nervous that I don’t even have time to filter what I say and I blurt out ‘Hockey player Dave…Meow.’ And I made a cat claw sign with my hand. A CAT CLAW SIGN WHILE SAYING DAVE…

MEOW! This is going to be turned into a viral meme for sure back home. How am I not going to get ridiculed the whole time? I’m not made for this! I have no filter! I want to leave!

-         The beginning of the end, or is it just the beginning? –

The night of the speed dating is the night of the first elimination. To be completely honest, I bought all my stuff to make rituals while I would be filming the show. Colored candles, crystals, a rope to cut ties with an energy-sucking person, miniature luck and love vials to wear around my neck for elimination nights and challenges, etc. Tonight, I am wearing a little purple bottle filled with lilac essence and amethyst crystals and Easter morning soil for good luck. It’s not time for the love charm yet. I don’t even know if I like Dave Meow yet, but I have a gut feeling that I do.

At 7 PM they come to get us in our rooms to go to an outside building with a big stage elaborated for Occupation Double Trouble. There are tons of cameras and a Sicilian audience from what I can see. Backstage, the girls blabber and giggle in excitement while dropping endless compliments on one another. But not to me. Of course, I should’ve known it’s not my place to be around models or influencers or gym bunnies on a dating reality tv show, but I shut up and wait for my cue to enter the stage. The 8 girls, we are lined up next to each other, primmed and prepped like dolls where only the cutest ones would be bought. I don’t like this at all.

The host starts his monologue about how the 8 guys had to decide their least and most favorite girl. The guys come down the stairs to face us, and one by one, they say out loud the name of the girl they most like and like the least. Dave Meow is the last in line. As I hear each guy say my name after the word ‘’least’’, my heart starts to sink deeper because it’s now Dave’s turn:

-         Least favorite: The bitchy blonde one. Most favorite one: The witchy redhead one.

Me! Me! I’m his most favorite! And he is mine too! My only favorite, in fact. The host starts talking about the deliberation, about how the guys have 5 minutes to decide which one of us girls they will kick out. There seems to be some bickering on their end. After the 5 minutes, the host brings them back in a line and asks them who was the girl who would leave. Dave Meow takes a step forward, tall, proud, looking a little too serious and it made me chuckle. He announced solemnly:

-         The rest of the boys unanimously want to kick out the witch one but I don’t. So, I decide to take a chance and ask her to leave with me right here right now. Fuck the show. I’m not taking part into Operation Double Trouble if it’s not with her.

I feel like there’s a million hot light spots on me. Is this guy for real? I mean, of course I felt something, and even if very few words were said, I felt him. I just felt something visceral and primal that no words could express. It’s just a very strong gut feeling because it’s not because of his brain I think. Or his body. It’s just this human as a whole. I take a step forward further into the limelight, and I make a cat claw gesture and exclaim:

‘DAVE MEOW! And I jump into his arms surrounded by people applauding.

-         The real beginning and then some –

A year later, after the Occupation Double Trouble debacle, Dave Meow became a viral meme and so did we. I guess I'm awakening more and more people about spirituality and I am fulfilling my life goal at top speed. I hang out with Dave's mom a lot. We do rituals before every hockey game, and we explained to Dave that the holidays he always celebrated were Wiccan ones, not Christian ones like his friends. He was dumbfounded and it was really moving how eager he was about learning about his ancestor’s gifts and curses stories. Thanks to me, he is becoming a little deeper as a human being. He is not the brightest star in the sky, but he is kind. And he makes me feel some type of way no one ever made me feel before. The best part? I swear I didn’t even cast a love spell on him at all.

Just true and genuine feelings.

He loves me for real.

For now.

And forever I can assure you.