The reality of TV auditioners is, some don't crave fame

THE DUDES were perched in front of J.B. Robinson jewelers at The Gallery at Military Circle last Saturday - heads cocked, eyes bugging out like cartoon characters, minds calculating their odds with any of the locals aspiring to be "America's Next Top Model."

The women had waited for hours to audition for the TV show, and the dudes were happy to watch the short shorts, low-cut tops and the oh-so-very-high heels the whole time.

The women struck poses and talked to the video cameras and explained how they have lots of personality and how much they love the show and how much they love Tyra and how much they just know they have exactly what it takes to be America's Next Top Model, so watch out America! And when they rambled on incoherently, they cried afterward.

I went to see what it was like and left without an epiphany. Some people are desperate to grab fame, even the reality-show kind.

When it comes down to it, the women were looking for a chance to leave Norfolk, at least temporarily; a chance to be discovered, to make a name for themselves on the national stage - again, temporarily - and leave the rest to the fates and the possibility of a one-year deal with Elite Model Management.

About 45 minutes away in Suffolk, another reality television program simultaneously held its casting call. The show is called "The Biggest Loser," and for the uninitiated, it's about losing weight through extensive workouts.

When I arrived in the late afternoon, the auditorium at the Suffolk Family YMCA was about half full. Those auditioning were in jeans and sweat suits. Some had driven for six or eight hours. No one was in high heels.

The people there did not want fame. They wanted to be able to wrap the little hotel towels around their bodies. They wanted to fit inside the rides at amusement parks. They faced tough questions about how much weight they needed to lose and, for one girl, why she wasn't going to prom. Some contestants cried.

Tad Frank, the casting director for "The Biggest Loser," has worked on a series of other reality programs. "The Amazing Race," "Gay, Straight or Taken," "The Bachelor," "Beauty & The Geek." He helped cast Virginia Beach's Rudy Boesch in "Survivor."

"All those people want to be on television," Frank said.

"The Biggest Loser" is different. "A lot of these people, these people aren't doing it for the money."

They were looking for their last chance. One woman told Frank if she didn't make the show, she had already scheduled gastric

bypass surgery. Most needed to lose 100 pounds or more.

On "The Biggest Loser," cast members resume their lives after the show. They generally go back to the towns they came from. They have real jobs.

"You can't be too old for this show," Frank said.

But on other reality programs, primarily those with cast members in the 18-27 demographic, or those with a minimum height requirement of 5-foot-7 - the "stars" move to Los Angeles.

Frank knows. He's seen it. "They all go to my grocery store," he said.

We've had our share of reality stars claim Hampton Roads, then leave for heavily made-up, botoxed and augmented pastures. Sure, a few have stayed, like Rudy.

Chances are no one from these local auditions will appear on television.

But if Hampton Roads coughs up another contestant, maybe it shouldn't be a model; maybe it should be a role model.

Mike Gruss, (757) 446-2277, mike.gruss@pilotonline.com