Eric Goes to see "The Situation" from MTV's Jersey Shore!

(all photos are numbered and ordered at the end of the story)

My friends make fun of me for my complete unwillingness to pay for cable or satellite television.  I just feel that the era of groundbreaking TV has passed.  We now have a countless number of niche channels that come out with complete crap in hopes of gaining a slight edge in viewership over their just-as-boring competition.  Spike TV shows violence and boobs so Mouth Breathers drool.  MSNBC goes political with a liberal agenda.  FOX News tries to start “revolutions”.  Bravo goes after women with no social life. The whole country votes every week for their favorite contestant on American Idol, and I end up just watching whales hump on Discovery channel.  What a complete waste of time.  What a complete waste of our brief existence!

The cable and satellite TV companies spend millions and millions of dollars promoting their reliable service, their clear HD programming, and how much better their basic package is than the competition.  Yet none of them have ever taken the time to explain to me why I would pay for service, stay home on a beautiful Florida night, and watch a show that I can see the next day on the internet for free?  Haven’t these companies heard of hulu.com?

But Eric, what about sports?  I need cable so I can listen to “experts” break down the offensive line play of a team I really don’t care about?  You want me to buy DirecTV so that on a Thursday night I can watch the Raiders and the Chiefs play a stink fest on the NFL Network?  If I’m not watching pro sports that’s the leagues problem, not mine.  Every Sunday during football season I spend time at my favorite beach bar watching my Dolphins play.  While I can’t make my beloved football team interesting, at least I can go through 24 hot wings lounging by the ocean in complete agony while the team kicks field goal after field goal before I go work on my tan.

But then something happened.  A channel called MTV (that I haven’t watched since I was a hormone raging teen ager hoping to see a scantily clad Madonna video) actually hit it big with a show idea.  I guess it’s true that if you throw enough crap against a wall, something will actually stick.  MTV came out with a little gem called “Jersey Shore”. It was so damn good that even an anti television activist like me made it appointment viewing.

 Jersey Shore is a “reality” show that put eight Italian Americans into a summer rental in Seaside Heights. This experience would allow the rest of us to better understand the Italian American culture of the residents of different parts of New York and New Jersey.  That sounds nice, right?  But that’s not exactly what happened.  MTV put eight of the most ridiculous, outlandish, ignorant, juiced up, fake tanned, hot headed, violent, self proclaimed “Guido/Guidettes” that they could find into a house too small for their collective, inflated egos and let the world watch as they make complete asses of themselves.  It was outstanding, but I’m pretty sure this doesn’t represent “reality” for the majority of us.

MTV has a long history of finding people who willingly trade their dignity for 15 minutes of fame.  But this show was special.  Why was it better than all the other Real World type flops that MTV has rolled out season after painstaking season?  Well, for the first time ever, the cast mates truly didn’t give a shit.  And MTV didn’t give them any incentives to.  There was no prize to win, no task to complete.  There was no reason for the cast mates to even get up in the morning other than to fake their way through a very part time t-shirt store job while nursing a hangover and fantasizing about the drunken altercation or hook-up they were inevitably going to get into later that night.  Most of us just skipped the low points of the show when the cast mates weren’t under the influence of oodles of alcohol. 

Let’s get to the next fight already!  I’m sure the brass at MTV knew that we sheep weren’t scrutinizing these genius’s conversational tactics!  Pour them a drink, point them towards the boardwalk and get out of the way.  “One shot kid!  One shot!”

Never before has an audience seen such freedom for men punching men, women punching men, the very shocking (and maybe a television first) man punching out a woman, and lots of failed attempts at random sex, all due to massive alcohol consumption on one show.  MTV was the conduit for millions as all of this went on with no repercussions except for the occasional arrest and public shame.  And there was A LOT to be ashamed of.

The greatest show of all time had a self appointed leader named Michael "The Situation" Sorrentino.  This loud mouth, Popeye-looking dude spoke in the third person as his alter ego “the Situation”.  The Situation was loud, brash and truly didn’t care about anything that didn’t involve drinking, sex or working out.  He would always take time out of his “busy” day to let you know how he was feeling about himself.  When you take his persistence with women and sprinkle in lack of self esteem hidden by overconfidence and disregard for public failure, what do you get?  Our newest American Icon!

Then one day this symbol of Italian excellence decided to visit Tampa Bay.  Did I go to this notable event?  OH YOU BET CHA!

Let me preface this story with the fact that I have never, ever stood in line to meet a celebrity.  I was very new at this and my naivety was at an all time high.  The event seemed simple: the main star of the Jersey Shore would be at the bar the same night as the final show.  I was stupid enough to think he would actually be walking around and meeting people.  I was also dumb enough to believe he would be there on time.  I was even dumber to believe that I was going to complete that days mission: to get a picture with the Situation from Jersey Shore.

Here is the story of that night:

The Sun Goddess and I got to the bar a little before 10pm because according to the tavern’s website, that’s when this party was getting started.  While waiting in line to get in I was told by a very large Neanderthal dressed in a sport coat that I would need to have purchased a ticket ahead of time for the one time low fee of $15.  Not letting my ticketlessness ruin my evening, I made a deal to scalp one from a college kid in the parking lot for $10.  Turns out the bar wasn’t letting under 21’s in unless they had a very short skirt, a very big chest or an otherwise good excuse.  At the time I thought it was hilarious that a bar only let under 21 year old girls in after underage males had bought a bunch of “non-refundable” tickets in advance to see their hero.  This logic would obviously come back to haunt me.

I couldn’t believe how easy it was to get a drink at such a packed bar.  This is when I came to the realization that we might be the oldest couple in the place.  Was I embarrassed?  Nope, just meant more drinks for me!

From 10pm to 11pm we danced, made fun of drunken underage kids, and reminisced about how we would have acted the exact same way while in college.  The obvious theme song for the night blared over the speakers.  The song was Shots by LMFAO.

Shots shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, EVERYBODY LET’S TAKE SHOTS! 

At this point, this night was going great.  Even though the Situation wasn’t there yet, I somehow still believed in my heart that I was going to get my photo shoot with him.

From 11pm to 12am we continued to drink, smile and dance.  The Situation had to be coming soon.  Every time I turned around, it seemed like they packed 100 more 18 year old girls into the already exploding bar.  Then they played it again:

Shots shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, EVERYBODY LET’S TAKE SHOTS! 

The night was still going strong. My hopes of meeting Jersey Shore’s front man were still intact.

Time passed.  More drinks, more dancing but still no man of the hour.  Somewhere around 12:30am the smell of puke overtook the dance floor.  Sooooo gross!  Then it came on again:

Shots shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, EVERYBODY LET’S TAKE SHOTS! 

Does this song ever end?  This night was becoming a bust, and quickly.  I was starting to lose faith in my photographic dream.

We went out the back door to an open-air lounge to get some much needed oxygen.  I threw out a half empty warm beer and stood over the garbage can to salute my wounded soldier.  I had a spirited debate with a few people sitting around a table as to what age was too old to actually be here wasting precious hours of my life and blowing money I didn’t have, just to be in the same room as some idiot from a reality TV show.  Then we heard some cheering from inside the bar.  Could it be him?  I checked my phone, it was 1am.  Maybe the Situation’s watch was on west coast time?

I ducked my head into the bar.

Shots shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, EVERYBODY LET’S TAKE SHOTS! 

ENOUGH WITH THE SHOTS ALREADY!  No Situation.  This night was becoming a train wreck.

 I sat out back with a fresh beer and discussed with my new friends what time we were all going to give up and leave.  We were rolling up on 2am and the work day was approaching fast.  The $10 ticket I negotiated earlier in the night now seemed like completely lost money.  No one thought the Situation was actually going to show up.  There was nothing we could do about it.  I wasn’t going to get my picture after all.  This was depressing.

Around 1:45am we were finishing our last drinks and looking for a cab when some dude came running through the back carrying pizza and wings to the VIP tent.  Then a limo pulled up.  No you didn’t read that wrong, the Situation had pizza pre-delivered and showed up in a limo, almost four hours late!  I am assuming he also got paid well for this.  Must be good to be a “celebrity”.

A few hours of sleep and a cab could wait.  We wanted to see the main attraction and I needed to take a picture!  We headed back into the bar.

Shots shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, EVERYBODY LET’S TAKE SHOTS! 

At that point I decided this song was coming off my iPod.

The Situation, looking Caesaresque, stood on a raised stage.  At three feet tall and 120lbs, he was surrounded by more body guards and security than Obama had when he visited Tampa.  This was quite a sight.

Young women were screaming, pushing and clawing just to get as close to the stage as possible.  Everyone wanted a picture with the Situation as he stumbled around drunk, grabbed a microphone (somehow without spilling his red bull and vodka) and slurred some incoherent message about how he was happy to be back in Tampa.

Remember all of those underage girls that I made fun of in the beginning of the story?  Well they were there with the same goal, and beating me badly at my craft.  I forgot to take into account that when it came to getting a picture with a drunken male celebrity, being young, cute and female is a major advantage.  I started to look for an attack point where I could exploit a break in the crowd.  I was going to get my picture, damn it!

Then some good fortune came my way.

A bunch of Snookie look-a-likes pushed a little too hard towards the stage and a shoving match broke out.  Small women spilling out of their clothes went toppling into a heap on the dance floor.  An opening to the stage parted like the Red Sea.  I saw my chance!  I took the camera hand-off style from the Sun Goddess and started sprinting towards the Situation doing my best Barry Sanders impersonation.  I threw a stiff arm and took down one chick.  A spin move got me by another.  I did the old double tap on the L1 and L2 buttons to juke by a bouncer and broke free into the open field, heading right at the Situation.  Finally, all those years I spent playing college football got me something more than sore knees.  I used the hit stick and ran right over a girl who had a perfect position at the stage.  I was now as close to the Situation as humanly possible.  We locked eyes, I pointed at my camera.  I held the camera out with my right hand and fought off security with my left as I snapped a great picture of myself with the Situation before the defense (a really big security guard) had enough of me and sent me flying backwards.

I flipped the camera to view mode and saw it:  a picture of me and the Situation, just as he turned his head away.  He wasn’t even looking at the camera!  I got close enough to get a picture and got snubbed by Michael "The Situation" Sorrentino.  My life is now complete.
(see below) 

Just another night of comedy and failure for your good friend Eric Prae.

What did I learn from this colossal waste of time?  It’s not MTV who makes the tool bag; it’s the tool bags that make MTV.  If you ever want to be famous, you don’t need to create something brilliant or lead society in a positive direction, just act like a complete moron on television and let your public persona emerge.  I also learned that male celebrities don’t want to take pictures with me.

And by the way:

Shots shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, shots shots shots shots shots, EVERYBODY LET’S TAKE SHOTS!
 
Picture
My Picture!!! I got snubbed!!!

Photos from the Story

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