She’s been asked about appearing on reality TV shows. They may not be ready for her

It seems I’ve reached the point in my career journey where I’m now seen as reality TV show material.

In the truth is stranger than fiction department, this summer no fewer than three casting directors have reached out to me about my “interest” in being a contestant on a reality TV show. (In case you’re worried I’m being trolled, all of the casting directors were vetted.)

When this first happened, the howls of laughter that erupted from me were so intense that it freaked out my cat, and I believe might have rattled some windows.

The initial response from me was, of course, a hard pass. But as a person who is extremely curious — like, curious to the point where I’ve been known to put myself in peril — I decided to explore this casting call and have an interview.

The casting person who contacted me was a delight with a bevy of questions. Which, in a shock to no one who’s been reading this column for a while, I thoroughly enjoyed.

It was an overshare extravaganza. I was asked everything from my childhood to my parenting style. Now, I did think that was odd, because I wasn’t taking part in something like a “Real Housewives” casting call. (Actually, that would have been absolute perfection because I’ve been honing my “Real Housewives” tagline for years. Here’s my current favorite: “Snarky’s not a bad thing, especially when you’re snarkalicious.” Yeah, I know I need to keep working on it.) It was for one of those shows where you compete for a cash prize and need to be “devious yet likable.”

I made it fairly far into the interview process. Like, right before you go for a physical and mental evaluation. But alas I was cut. My son eagerly volunteered that it was a good thing I didn’t make it to the psych evaluation because I wouldn’t have passed.

He might be right since I’m sure they’re looking for crazy, and as we all know that’s not me: Right?

Then days later I got contacted about another reality show. I asked this casting person if I had somehow landed in a reality TV casting pool for baby boomers who are still ambulatory.

He laughed and like the casting director before him said he found me through my TikTok videos. Apparently, the production was looking for a “feisty, opinionated older woman.”

Umm, OK. Bingo, I guess. But since by this time I wasn’t a casting newbie, I immediately asked what the bathroom situation would be on the reality show. He seemed very taken aback — almost shocked.

But hey, as a “feisty, opinionated older woman,” I have standards when it comes to toilet availability, cleanliness of said toilet and a real need for three-ply toilet paper. I can endure two-ply but it should be noted that it would be a struggle.

Once the premise of this competition show was shared, which in turn revealed the bathroom accommodations were likely primitive, I had to ask if they were planning in filming in hell? Because that would be hell for me.

Then just last week I heard from yet another casting person. This time a production company was looking for a “helicopter mom” and her family to be on a reality show.

First, I was a little offended by the helicopter mom title — but more importantly, my family, except, of course, me, actively shuns attention. (Seriously, how are we related?)

So again, another thanks but no thanks. Yet, I remain hopeful that there’s the perfect reality TV show out there that needs me. Maybe one where I travel and share the world’s best public toilets or even a bathroom cleaning competition. Both of these would totally play to my three-ply strengths.

Reach Sherry Kuehl at snarkyinthesuburbs@gmail.com, on Facebook at Snarky in the Suburbs, on Twitter at @snarkynsuburbs on Instagram @snarky.in.the.suburbs, and snarkyinthesuburbs.com.