Ten months ago, at my best friend's 25th birthday party, the course of my life was permanently altered. Allegra, newly engaged to Jason after a whirlwind romance, had just finished opening her gifts. She had begged and pleaded with me not to get her a gift, even though I had a few cute things already picked out. She finally managed to convince me to come empty-handed by saying she would ask me for a gift at the party. No pressure, right? I was just supposed to show up at her party and give her the gift she asked for even though I hadn't brought a gift. Welcome to my crazy life, often dictated by my even crazier best friend.

It didn't help at all that Allegra was the epitome of a socialite, minus the snobby-ness. Her father owned a large software company in Silicon Valley, but his main office was now in Sacramento. In other words, her family was loaded. They were all so down to earth, except for Allegra's occasional eccentric desires, like the time she decided that she wanted to spend the weekend in the rain forest in Argentina, and guess who she dragged along? Yours truly. It ended up being pretty cool, but in comparison, the only thing I could splurge on for a weekend was a movie and maybe a mani-pedi.

After giving it some thought, I was 101% sure that she was going to ask me to be her maid of honor. I wouldn't have a hard time saying yes to that. It would be kind of a fun way for her to do it, I'd give her that. All night at the party, I was expecting it, and I had practiced my surprised face numerous times, as if we hadn't talked about being in each other's weddings since we were knee high.

At the end of the gift opening, she stood to make an announcement. Here it comes, I thought. Time to pretend to be shocked and flattered, and maybe even do that little wavy thing in front of my face as if I'm trying to hold back tears. She explained to everyone in the room that she asked me specifically not to buy her a gift. And then she turned to me and said, "Harper, the bestest birthday present you could ever, ever, ever give me would be to submit an application for the next season of The Most Eligible Bachelor."

The look of surprise on my face was 102% real. I stared at her in alarm, completely speechless. People cleared their throats. Crickets chirped. I felt like I was standing under a monster spotlight and I was being interrogated by villains who were going to rip my arms off if I didn't give them the information they needed.

Finally, I started laughing, and everyone kind of laughed, too, but it was obvious they were wondering whether they should be or not.

Allegra stood there expectantly, hands on hips. "Well?"

"O...oh," I stuttered. "You're serious. I thought...wait, what about your wedding?"

She gave me the same look that she did when I asked her to run a marathon with me or any time I asked her to do anything remotely athletic, for that matter. Her heavy lashes fluttered as her eyes flitted from side to side without turning her head as she silently inquired of the other guests whether they knew what I was talking about. Finally she said, "Um you don't need to fill out an application to come to my wedding."

I shook my head in confusion. "No, I thought you were going to ask me to be your maid of honor. But this...you're serious about this?" I asked, still waiting for her to burst out laughing and to say she had been joking the whole time.

"Yes, I'm serious!" She laughed loudly.  "Why wouldn't I be?" Because it's insane, that's why. "So, will you?" She pleaded.

No pressure, right? I couldn't very well say no to her on her birthday, in front of all our friends. So I pushed out a tight-lipped yes while my eyes sent knives flying through the air, aimed directly at her overly-romanticized heart.

"Yay!" She cheered. Everyone else seemed to love the idea since they all cheered and clapped and closed in around us while Allegra squeezed the life out of me.

Later, when the guests had all gone, I whined, "Can't I just give you a$5000 shopping spree to your favorite store instead of this? Not that you even need $5000, and I mean, I don't even have that kind of money readily available, but I will do anything I can to earn it. I'll even sell a kidney. Anything would be less painful than having to parade around in an evening gown for some egotistical man – who is probably single fora reason – so he can decide if I'm his ideal mate. Doesn't it strike you as kind of...sexist and old-fashioned and did I mention sexist?"

"Well, they have The Most Eligible Bachelorette, too. Would you like to apply to be her instead? Then you get to have 25 or 30 guys fawning over you and trying to win your favor. All the power is in your hands."

"Ugh, no. I've seen enough arrogant guys at the clubs. I don't need to have 30 of them in close quarters, trying to convince me of their undying love. It'll be bad enough having to compete with twenty bubble-headed bimbos for the attention of one guy."

"Nice alliteration," she said.

"Thanks," I replied with a shrug. I was an advertising rep, so of course I thought in terms of catchy slogans, contagious jingles, and the occasional tongue-twister. It was how my mind worked and I put it to good use in my profession.

"Please just send in an application. It would be so romantic if you were chosen."

Romantic. I despised that word. What the hell did that mean anyway, and what did it really have to do with real life? Even the dictionary defined romance as "a baseless, made-up story, usually full of exaggeration or fanciful invention. "Marriages were only romantic for the first few months, maybe years if they were lucky, and then they became more like business partnerships. Or worse.

Did you get the oil changed on the car?

Yes, dear, and don't forget, you have to get Johnny to his soccer game tomorrow.

All right, darling. I'm going out to get a few things from the store. And by the way, I'm never coming back.

I just didn't see the point. I've been attracted to guys, certainly. I've dated a few. But I've never felt like I needed a man, like it was my goal in life to get married. The very idea made me nauseous. No self-respecting woman should need a man to make her feel whole and worthwhile. How the hell does Hollywood sell that kind of bullshit anyway? If the right man happened to come into my life, then so be it. I wasn't going to spend precious time and energy looking for one.

"Where is this contest held?" I asked.

"It's in a mansion in northern California. At least that's where it starts, and then if you stay in the competition, you'll get to go to fun places and do really cool things. Like one guy took his dates to Hawaii for the weekend."

"Dates?" I asked, grimacing at her use of the plural form of the word.

"Yeah, well, he goes on group dates with the girls to begin with, until he gets to know them well enough to decide who he really wants to pursue. Have you seriously never watched the show!?"

"Um, no. Have you seriously not been my best friend since we were eleven? You know I hate that romantic crap!"

Allegra pouted and then pulled the puppy dog eyes on me. I knew that was code-speak for I will use this against you any chance I get, for the rest of our lives, if you don't do this for me.

I finally said, "Okay, I'll do it, but only because I have some vacation time saved up and it sounds interesting to go and watch a bunch of other women make fools of themselves. If I get eliminated early on, then I'm buying myself a ticket to Hawaii for the rest of my vacation. Deal?"

"Deal!" She squealed. "Wait, you said you didn't have money. How would you buy a plane ticket and stay in Haw-"

"Just shut up," I laughed. 

I had never quite figured out how Allegra and I became friends. I've never been a girly girl. I wouldn't exactly call myself a tomboy either, but I stopped wearing dresses when I was a toddler, and I've always been much more comfortable in soccer cleats than heels, even though I wore heels for work all the time. She is the classic hopeless romantic while I am...not. She's a diva all the way; I'm Eddie Bauer and Land's End. She is creative, liberal, fun-loving, spontaneous; I'm conservative, calculating and I like to have my life planned out a little bit. I don't like spontaneity as much as I like to be in control.

But when all is said and done, she is my best friend and I would rather die than have someone or something come between us, so that's how I got talked into submitting an application for The World's Most Eligible Bachelor.

A few weeks after the application had been submitted, I had completely forgotten about it, knowing I had done my duty to fulfill my best friend's birthday wish. So when I received a phone call from a casting agent, asking me to fill out another questionnaire, I was a bit surprised. They also sent me some forms to sign, giving them consent to do a background check. I guess it made sense that they didn't want a serial killer or a schizo on the show. I filled out the forms without telling Allegra. I didn't want to get her hopes up, and I was sure that would be the last I heard from them.

Two weeks later, I got another phone call asking me to come to LA for a casting weekend. I hesitantly accepted, but this time, I knew I'd have to tell Allegra.

I dialed her number and said, "Hey, just wanted to let you know that I'm flying to LA this weekend for a casting call. You know, for World's Most Eligible Bachelor."

I moved the phone far away from my ear just in time for her scream to reverberate through the phone. "Let me come and help you pack!" She shrieked.

"You can keep me company, but I think I can handle this on my own. However, if they actually choose me for the show, I might need some help. Something tells me that Mr. Wonderful won't be expecting women wearing business suits."

I had no intention of telling her that I was maybe, possibly, just the teensy-weensiest bit excited now that I'd made it to this stage.

The weekend in LA was bizarre, to say the least. I took an airport shuttle to the hotel, as instructed. As soon as I checked in with the WMEB team, they assigned me a "handler," someone who would escort me to and from my hotel room. I was given very strict instructions to not leave my room under any circumstances, unless a handler came to escort me to an official event. It felt a bit like I was in prison. After I got settled, someone brought me a personality assessment to fill out.

Holy crap – there were at least a thousand questions on the dumb thing. No wonder they didn't want me to leave the hotel room – it would take me all weekend to fill out this ridiculous assessment. There were questions about my childhood, phobias, best and worst memories, sexual encounters, deepest fears and greatest aspirations. There were also questions like, "Do you hear ever hear voices in your head?"and "Have you considered hurting yourself or anyone else?"

I answered that last question with a grumble. "Allegra."

It took me hours to fill out the questionnaire. They could have at least given me a stash of chocolate to keep me occupied. I really didn't like to talk about myself, even though I considered myself a fairly interesting person. I just didn't like to be forced to lay it all out there for everyone to evaluate. By the time I finished, I was exhausted and I fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming about spiders and ax murderers.

The next day, my meals were brought to me in the room. In the afternoon, a handler (seriously, couldn't they come up with a title that didn't sound so demeaning?) came and escorted me to an interview with the producers of the show. Then I met with a private investigator, and finally a psychologist. Oh, and I can't forget about the blood tests, urine tests, and fingerprinting. And the test for STD's. And the extensive questions about my sexual history, including whether I was currently on birth control. I was genuinely surprised they didn't insist on a body cavity search.

When I got home, I made sure to tell Allegra about the humiliation I endured for her sake.

"Oh, come on! It's an adventure!" She giggled. She was so fricking excited about this, I couldn't understand why she hadn't applied for herself. Oh, yeah, she was engaged to the guy she's been in love with since...well, just over a year ago. She had always dreamed of being on the show, but she was now living vicariously through me, so I decided I would be a good sport about it, if I was actually chosen, which still seemed fairly unlikely.

Work was grueling at the moment, but I couldn't have been happier. I had gotten the Sony account that I had worked so hard to land, but now I was putting in long hours to live up to the expectations I had set for Sony's corporate moguls. It was exhilarating, trying to be the best of the best, but it was also the hardest account I'd ever had. I had saved up a ton of vacation time, so once I'd finished a couple of key assignments for them, I'd leave one of my co-workers in charge of the account for a few weeks. I was looking forward to a nice long, relaxing vacation.

Or a "vacation" with 30 other women in a mansion, doing who-knows-what to try to win the affection of one man. A "vacation" which would consist of someone else planning everything out for me, springing surprise activities, dates and challenges on me, and which could end at any time if the man in question decided he didn't want me anymore. Oh, yeah, apparently I would have to dress up all the time.

Kill me now.

About a month after my trip to LA, I received yet another phone call. "Ms. Blackwood, we're happy to offer you the opportunity to participate as a contestant on The World's Most Eligible Bachelor."

I was dumbfounded, really. I stood there for a moment, cell phone pressed hard against my ear, trying to formulate an acceptable response.

If I said no, Allegra would never have to know. I could just tell her I didn't get in.

But I couldn't live with myself if I did that.

"Ms. Blackwood? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I apologize. So, does this mean I'm on the show? No more interviews or screening?"

"Yes, ma'am, you're on the show if you wish to accept this offer. I will send paperwork for you to sign later today."

My internal response was, Please, I'd rather be stabbed in the eye with a barbecue fork,  but in order to keep my word to my dearest pal, I said, "Yes, I'd like to participate. Thank you very much."

"Oh, and one more thing," she said. "For this particular season of The World's Most Eligible Bachelor, the bachelor will remain unknown until the competition actually starts."

"Okay," I said, not knowing that was any different from the norm.

As I hung up, I smiled. In spite of myself, I actually felt another little rush of excitement. After all, it would be a unique vacation, I'd meet some interesting people, and maybe even do some professional networking. I'd be able to get the break I needed and then come back to work feeling refreshed and more ready than ever blow my clients away with my advertising talents.

This was going to work out very well, I could feel it.

_____

So I did some research on the application process, and the prospective contestants really have to do the casting weekend and stay cooped up in their hotel the whole time. Plus the personality assessments, fingerprinting, etc. Sounds like a lot of work to get on the show! 

I hope you'll enjoy this story as much as I'm going to enjoy writing it!