By Terrence McCoy
By Scott Fishman
By Deirdra Funcheon
By Allie Conti
By New Times Staff
By Ryan Pfeffer
By Deirdra Funcheon
By Kyle Swenson
Immediately after the audition, in which she confidently pitched her skills, she sums herself up. "I'm a huge risk-taker. I live for that kind of world. I'm just trying to see what my limits are, if any at all."
Lazzell, after shuffling in line for an hour, finally gets in front of the camera a few minutes after Darling. His quiet litany: father of five, love to be on the show, no quitter. And for whatever role modesty plays in the selection process, he admits, "I don't know if I'd win it."
Others take a much more nothin'-I-wouldn't-do approach. One young man, mindful of an episode in which a cast member was unable to urinate upon demand, makes clear that he knows that particular bar has been raised much higher. Pointing to the heretofore unmolested potted palms, he pronounces himself up to the task. "I'd literally turn around right here and go to the bathroom on these," he threatens.
But Jerry Balester, a Miamian who's dressed in pink scuba flippers, goggles, and life preserver vest, does the pee-on-demand man one better. Tethered to his waist are a spool of fishing line and a full roll of toilet tissue. Why the toilet paper? "I have an anal discharge problem," he confesses. It's nothing he can control, but it's also not something that would prevent him from enduring in the wilderness.
"Would I pull my pants down?" Balester free-associates toward his finale. "Probably." He vacillates for a second, then turns around, pulls his shorts to his knees, and bends over for a time too lengthy to pass as flashing. The crowd whoops and claps as Balester lifts his shorts. He flip-flops toward the bleachers. His wife is aghast. His daughter scrambles away in mortification. Balester, nonchalant after his moment in the spotlight, explains that family and friends have long encouraged him to try out for the show. His wife continues to shake her head, glancing every so often at the man she now can't seem to comprehend as her husband. "I'm sick," he says. "I do things that are disgusting." He can even eat fish entrails on demand, he claims.
So anal leakage seemed an untapped gimmick for a Survivor wannabe? "No, that's a problem I have," he maintains. "Everybody knows it, so there's no use hiding it."