🌻 tryhard - by Jasmine Sun - half-baked futures

I like watching game shows because I like watching people try. Deep in the Top Chef archives, a New York Italian who has spent six episodes inflating his abilities finally loses, turns lobster-red, and wells up with gasping, blubbering tears. A fellow competitor—a Vietnamese woman half his size—kisses him gently on the forehead as he departs. I know reality TV is trashy, but I can’t help but stare. I like watching people act like assholes to fight for a title only one can end up with. I like watching chefs’ gruff exteriors fade into glee and camaraderie and pleading eyes at Judges’ Table when you know they really, really fucking want it. The token villain line on Top Chef is I’m not here to make friends—for the veteran viewer, herein lies the dramatic irony of knowing the contestant is wrong—that he will make friends, whether he wants to or not. In high school, Jessica and I did debate because we so often lost. We attended a school full of smart kids who were used to winning. In other

I like watching game shows because I like watching people try. Deep in the Top Chef archives, a New York Italian who has spent six episodes inflating his abilities finally loses, turns lobster-red, and wells up with gasping, blubbering tears. A fellow competitor—a Vietnamese woman half his size—kisses him gently on the forehead as he departs. I know reality TV is trashy, but I can’t help but stare. I like watching people act like assholes to fight for a title only one can end up with. I like watching chefs’ gruff exteriors fade into glee and camaraderie and pleading eyes at Judges’ Table when