Editors Note: We couldn’t stay away. We’re sorry. But the annual line-up of Trump reality show auditionees is, by now, something like the running of the salmon, or the… something else mysterious and odd that happens once a year. In any event, The Transom wanted to know this: Why, in this day and age, does anyone audition for a reality show? We all know what will become of those selected: some will win, some will lose, a very, very few will become infamous, a few more will be working boat shows in Vegas by next year, and most will never be remembered.
But you know what? None of the contestants could truly satisfy our curiousity.
And it’s true. It’s hard for each of us to answer the whys and wherefores of our life.
But a few would-be contestants did rap for us. And that’s almost good enough. And herewith, Raquel Hecker reports from Trump Towers.
Tools and Trump-lovers lined up along 5th Avenue on July 8th in the pouring rain outside Trump Towers, looking much like so many actors waiting in line for an open call for Rent. Some had been waiting for their big chance to met Mr. Trump since 9:30 p.m. the night before. Ruh roh! Princess is going to look a little puffy when she meets The Donald!
Umberto Giallombardo, 24, who had only been waiting to get into the Trump Towers since 5 a.m., lost his place in the line when he left to gussy himself up and change into his gold-green suit in his car. Frustrated, but demonstrating considerable entrepreneurial pluck, Mr. Giallombardo, who is a business specialist at the Bank of America, tried to “finesse” the woman in charge of the line. When that failed, he said, “Let me see if I can work my magic,” flipping up his cell phone to call his “buddy” who had made it into the Towers already. In between Mr. Giallombardo’s wheeling and dealing, he told The Transom that being on the third season of “The Apprentice” was the “dream of a life time, a chance to be famous, have a six figure job, connections beyond belief!” Back of the line, baby!
Musician, rapper, and writer Damion Neita was holding up the end of the cue in a Buckeye number 2 shirt and black jeans. But was he sure he was in the right line? “I’m not qualified per se, I just got out of college” —Ohio State University—”this past June. I haven’t started in business, I just do things at my house – this is my first attempt to do something.” Mr. Neita raps in his parents’ basement about “me, my skills as a rapper” but draws the line at rapping about jewelry. He promised to rap for Mr. Trump, but only if he asks him to. In the meantime, he rapped for the Transom:
Come like flame throwers bringing nothing but heat
My salt like sugar is too damn sweet
My flow is infinite it just won’t stop…y’all need to stopY
You mess with me – your ass drops.
Patrick Treiger, 23, who works for the “the world’s leading management firm” had a kabbalah bracelet tied around his right wrist. “Anything that will help the interview!” Mr. Treiger said. It’s his second time auditioning for “The Apprentice” which he calls “the ultimate classroom.” Maybe Trump will teach him to wear his bracelet on the correct wrist. Madonna would be mortified.
The Material Girl was represented more accurately further up the line by corporate attorney Jennifer Luella, a vision amongst the suits in a fashionable pink Tocca coat and Mickey Moto jewelry worth rapping about. “In Manhattan, everyone has a decent job and a nice apartment and you want a little more…” Ms. Luella said offhandedly, “This could be it.”
“Money is not the goal of the business,” said sage Elmar Benyaminoe, 30, a fashion company consultant, “Fame is not so easy as it seems when you have complicated dreams.” If “The Apprentice” doesn’t work out, Mr. Benyaminoe could always join forces with Mr. Neita. “Money doesn’t bring you happiness,” continued Mr. Benyaminoe. “You sound as though you speak from experience,” noted the Transom. “Yes,” nodded Mr. Benyaminoe, “It helps a lot, but it’s not everything.”
— Raquel Hecker