Here's the Situation by Mike "The Situation" Sorrentino Page A

Part of the reason I find myself in these type situations is because I’m so polite. I just can’t bear to say no to anyone who wants to party with The Sitch. Plus, I don’t discriminate. Some days I like vanilla ice cream, some days I like chocolate, and some days I go for cookies ’n’ cream. Deciding on just the right flavor can be the most difficult part of my day—or, I should say, night. That’s why I like to invite everyone back to my crib in an effort to delay my last-minute decision, depending on my appetite.
    Real-Life Situation
    One night in Detroit, I brought nine girls back to my hotel room. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was pretty crowded, and I was exhausted, so I offered them an ultimatum designed to clear the room. I said, “Listen girls, I have another city to go to tomorrow. I don’t want to be like this, but if you’re not DTF (as previously advertised back at the club), then please exit the room immediately in an orderly fashion.” I used a joking tone, but I was serious. I was tired and had an early flight.
    All nine chicks exchanged glances, then smiles. No one made for the door. They were all enthusiastically DTF.
    I said, “You gotta be kidding me.”
    I suppose, in theory, any guy would think that’s a fantastic situation. But let’s keep it real. As I mentioned previously, there’s only so much Sitch to go around. I decided to deflect the decision-making responsibility away from myself and onto the girls. I approached the hottest chick and said, “Look, obviously I’m The Situation, but I’m not Superman with a rod of steel. As much as I’d love to do all nine of you simultaneously, I think we all know it’s not going to happen. So, some have to go while others can stay. Decide amongst yourselves.”
    The hottest chick huddled with her group of friends then said to me, “Well, we don’t like those bitches over there.”
    For once, female cattiness was playing to my advantage. I tasked her and her friends with eliminating that faction from the room and told them that, when the axe had fallen, to report back to me. That got us down to six, which was a workable number. I was willing to do six.
    The six remaining girls split into two groups of three and started arguing in front of me. That’s one of those things that dangles right on the edge of being a turn-off or a turn-on. They were all acquainted in some way and were threatening each other that this girl “better not tell her boyfriend what she did tonight,” and that girl “better keep her mouth shut to so-and-so.” That confrontation transitioned into who was going to start The Situation and who was going to finish him. To my mind, they had finally moved on to a reasonable discussion. I had my preference but, all in the same, I decided to hang back and see how things shook out. While this drama unfolded, I started to yawn. My eyelids were feeling heavy and I couldn’t help but think of my early flight and all the hassles of the day’s travel that lay ahead. Whatever these chicks were going to decide, they needed to do it fast.
    An agreement was reached and I got to work with three of the girls while the other three watched. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the girls from the on-deck circle retrieving something out of her bag. I’ve become ultra perceptive of those hijinks—no matter what I’m in the middle of doing. The voice in my head (which sounds just as handsome as my real voice) said, “Dude, you should’ve collected all their phones and cameras and locked them in the safe.” Sure enough, one of the girls was getting her camera to record the festivities. Luckily I wasn’t so deep into my situation that I couldn’t leap up and whack away her camera (with my hand ). That nonsense was an immediate deal breaker. I banished her and her two friends from the room for her