I quit my job to be on a Netflix competition show and here’s what I learned
When I was growing up, all I wanted to do was make boondoggles. I first saw one on the keyring of a much older girl standing in front of my mom and I at Nobody Beats The Wiz. Instantly, my purpose became clear. But I was only in Scouts for a hot minute. I never got to go to summer camp. I didn’t create a babysitting service with my friends. I didn’t have a lot of feminine craft energy circulating in my circle.
What I did have was that glorious, twisted masterpiece that would soon become my Mona Lisa. As I grew, so did my doggles. Longer, more elaborate – more colors. I was unstoppable. But at some point in my young life, I turned away from the hobby. The memories faded. It all changed a few months ago, when I heard about upcoming Netflix reality competition show, Reach for the Boon(doggle)! I knew my time had come.
Let’s backtrack a little — boondoggles are also known as lanyards, plastic lace craft, Scoubidou, or scoobies. They are created by intricately knotting plastic strings (also called lanyard or gimp string) together to create, in a word, magic.
When I saw the casting call for Reach for the Boon(doggle)! I was sitting at my desk at LB Alabaster & Sons. I’ve since become a talented lawyer who specializes in litigation and maritime law. I felt the urge to doggle rise in my corporeal body like I haven’t felt since 1995 — the last time I was thrust into competition.
When I was eleven years old, after years of diligent solo work, I met my first adversary: Alexandra Marshall. Between her long flowing golden hair, her endless supply of gimp, and her delicate yet precise methodology, I never believed I’d match her skills — but by god did I try. Alexandra could start on four strings… six strings… eight strings? It didn’t matter. She knew how to set them up and go. She was a boondoggle saint
Her backpack had a dozen, at least, hanging off the zippers. The colors, the shapes, the color schemes? It was evidence of her extreme dedication to quality. She would always best me and I was hungry to surpass her. I gathered all my gimp string and stayed home from normal preteen activities — doggling the boon every chance I got. My gnarled fingers twisted and knotted lanyards constantly. In the bathroom. On the school bus. At funerals. At the Grammar Rodeo. My life was one long boondoggle. I worked so hard and diligently that I barely noticed how incredible my results were getting.
Then there was that fateful day where Alexandra Marshall marched past the lunch tables, red eyed and maniacal, and challenged me to a boon-off. She told me to meet her outside by the statue at 3:15 and to be prepared to get doggled. I showed up. A crowd surrounded us. She pushed me into the asphalt. “You think you can out boon me? Amateur!” We sat criss cross applesauce and pulled out our supplies. And then we were on the boondoggle like white on … our pale little faces.
She started with six strings. I started with four. What she didn’t know is that I was going to introduce more later on — because I was creating the much-fabled King Cobra — a style no child ever dared try before. As I wove more plastic gimp into the crests of its hood, I could see her venomous rage building. The crowd rallied around me. My victory was imminent.
As I sat at my desk, feeling the rigid yet fluid pangs of desire course through my veins, I wrestled with the thought of competing. Would everyone be young? Was I still good enough? Would my knowledge of litigation and maritime law bring anything to my skill level? Could I handle being away from family and friends and the job I loved and had fought tooth, nail and uterus for? Most importantly, would I be able to cope with a potential crushing defeat? I couldn’t answer any of these questions. I thought about Alexandra Marshall.
After I walked outside to get some air and clear my head, I ran into a kind old man. He apologized for getting in my way and then randomly provided me with the sage advice that helped me make my decision. He said, “Ma’am, watch the hell where you’re going, you could have killed me.” I knew what that really meant. He was telling me I needed to set my own path and take the reins back for my own life. I needed to slay. Yaaaaas.
So I marched back into my office and took LB Alabaster by his sweaty red face and I said to him “SIR. I need to leave this job. I have a life’s quest to begin and if you won’t allow me these 8.5 months to compete in a televised and highly competitive boondoggle competition to be aired on Netflix Indonesia and maybe other markets if it’s successful but we won’t probably know for 2–3 years — I’ll have to quit!” Mr. Alabaster, shaking from his morning snoot of scat from 1998 thriller The Faculty, whispered “Nooooo.” So I quit on the spot.
I wasn’t even sure I would be accepted, but as it turned out only 7 other people entered anyway and they had to work with what they had. I packed up my nineteen velour jumpsuits, a small picture of my childhood dog Lady Elaine, two vintage TV Guides and a suitcase full of mild horse tranquilizers … and made my way to the Boon-docks. That’s what they called it, because all they could afford with their limited budget were 4 house boats and renting out the platform of The Intrepid museum on alternate Tuesdays. I shared my boat with a young man named @ThirtysixinchGunz — he tells me he’s a rising TikTok superstar with a side job of being a prolific jazz rapper.
I kept a diary of my entire 8.5 months which I’ll soon be making available on the Amazon Kindle Store. But these are the important lessons I learned while sharing a boat with @ThirtysixinchGunz and while competing to be the first Netflix Premier Champion Boondoggle Competitor and recipient of the prestigious Golden Gimp, and a prize of about $800.
1. Fear is the mind killer
When I endured those first few challenges on Netflix’s Reach for the Boon(doggle)! I was truly not “in” it. I was, instead, consumed by the fear of failure. As I pumped myself full of mild horse tranquilizers nightly — to ease the pain of my fingertips, not for the dull high — I wasn’t connecting with my craft. Instead I was becoming fear’s wanton little temptress, and I was slutty. Slutty for wimping out.
As I continued on into the competition I began to see that it was more than just about winning, it was about simply completing my task. Even if I didn’t win, I had shown the world (or its limited Indonesian audience) that I could doggle with the best of them. Or the only ones there were, whatever. The competition was with myself, truly. I feared letting myself down, but for what?
I had already achieved so much, what with being a successful lawyer who specialized in litigation and maritime law. What was being able to knot plastic cords but a very specific pastime? I suddenly stopped being afraid and let my joy sink in like three milks in a tres leches cake. This competition was no match for my experience. I, of course, had bested Alexandra Marshall … and so many seamen in Admiralty courts. I could do this.
2. Community isn’t just a television show
Of course we’re all there to win, but when it comes down to it — we become a little family. Building a sense of community is vital to surviving on these shows. You need to build alliances before you can worry about yourself. This became clear as I eased off the horse tranquilizers and let myself feel pain again.
Between @ThirtysixinchGunz, Mary Grace the 42 year old scout leader, Mary Alice the current girl scout only allowed to compete because of Wisconsin’s lax child labor laws, and DawnandDave Maher — the couple competing as one player because we’re pretty sure Dave cheated and Dawn won’t let him do anything without her — I had found my competition family. We ate together, we discussed technique. Even when we were at the bitter end and DawnandDave were cursing my name — we were still able to shake hands and remain friends afterward.
3. Netflix doesn’t care if you’re on horse tranquilizers
I mean, publicly they’re not going to admit this, but Fredric the PA told me that as long as I showed up on time and appeared lucid, anything goes. Even if I eventually weaned myself off it, it’s comforting to know that Netflix will give you a pass so long as you’re raking in ratings even if the practice is detrimental to ourselves and the others we provide mild horse tranquilizers to. When I needed it, I was able to use it, and I can thank them for creating a safe environment wherein I could sleep through a disastrous earthquake that upsets the entire world around me — and feel like nothing could touch me. Thank you, Reed Hastings, you’re truly a standup guy. A standup guy who is peachy keen about me using horse tranquilizers on the set of Reach for the Boon(doggle)!
4. Hydrate Hydrate Hydrate
I don’t know if you know this, but water is hella important. If you’re not drinking at least 3 liters of water a day, your piss is probably dark as hell. You need to flush those kidneys, and that’s especially important when you’re living on a house boat with a jazz rapper that sleeps with a dehumidifier. I would wake up daily with dry patches all over my face and the darkest urine.
Turns out drinking three cups of coffee in the morning and then the finest pruno all day long — is not great for your kidneys. Particularly if you’re on 14 pills a day including those sweet Joe Rogan supplements that make you angry all the time (but you need that for competition).
5. People will kill for that GBBO Handshake
Even if we weren’t in the Great British Bake Off, every show has the equivalent of the much-sought-after handshake. Frankly, everyone thrives on approval. If it’s only available in limited supply, things are going to get vicious.
Our host was former teenage heartthrob Jonathan Taylor Thomas, and instead of the handshake — if your boondoggle was the best, he’d gently stroke your face like you were in a John Woo movie.
Everyone … EVERYONE wanted JTT to touch their face. Marnie, the goat farmer, came into DawnandDave’s bedroom the night after she got her first face touch and put those baby feet foot treatments that make your skin peel for two weeks on their hands, virtually crippling their chances at the next competition. Darren the eboy whose mom pushed him into competing smashed one of the show’s resident grandma DeeDee Coolata’s hands on the community hot plate because she scoffed when he got his face touch. This is a brutal competition and that’s why it’s really important to form alliances early.
6. Once you get a taste, you’re never the same
Much like a dog that’s tasted human blood — once you’ve won, you’re going to crave victory. It’ll be an insatiable hunger to do better and beat everyone. You will crawl into a ball and sob if you make a mistake. You’ll be on the brink of collapse if you suspect you’re not going to win. If you get eliminated? Well, prepare for four months of not showering and exclusively eating Mama Cozzi’s French Bread Pizzas. Not that I know what that feels like — but I can tell you what I’ve seen.
NDA’s be damned. I won. I secured the Golden Gimp. I managed to do what seven other competitors couldn’t. I bested the memory of Alexandra Marshall from my mind. I had Jonathan Taylor Thomas caress my face multiple times, and then when I won, he touched my face with BOTH hands. What I learned most from my experience is that nothing is more important than crushing your competitors by using your own hands to knot together plastic gimps and get a doubled fisted face touch from a seven-time Tiger Beat cover boy.
Believe in yourself. Fight for your dreams. Life is one giant boondoggle, and if you can’t convince yourself to weave your own success, what is there to live for except a proficiency in litigation and maritime law?
