Tom Sandoval, from ‘Vanderpump Rules’, sacrificed his humanity for fame.

Doomed from⁢ the Start

If‍ you go back to season one of “Vanderpump Rules,” back when the cast all actually worked at Sexy Unique ⁢Restaurant (SUR), the dramatic irony of the show is clear. The audience ‌quickly realizes these bright-eyed servers and bartenders have ambitions that far outstrip their talent. ⁤Katie ⁤Maloney wants her own record ​label, yet ‍never works toward⁣ it. Scheana Shay is trying to be ‌the next Britney Spears with her single “What I ⁣like,” aka “Freak B-tch,” ⁣but her ⁤producer’s feedback is less concerned with ​the finer ‌points of vocal performance:⁤ “less phone sex operator, more porn star.” Sandoval is introduced talking about ⁢his band, “Dude, we’re ‌headlining. Viper Room!” Ten years on, it’s still hard to imagine this becoming his main‍ gig:

Stassi Schroeder ‌gives ⁣her view of the cast: “Working at⁣ SUR⁤ is different from working at any other‌ restaurant. The servers all want to be models, actors, writers, singers. The ⁤servers at other⁢ Hollywood ⁢restaurants just want to be waiters at SUR.” Kristen Doute shares​ in the grandiosity: ‍“People always comment on the waitstaff,⁣ and it’s true, ‍we’re all really good-looking. Sorry.”

But they’re ⁣not nearly⁣ as beautiful or⁤ enviable as they think.

No, despite the ostensible premise of the show — that we​ will watch these servers and bartenders as they try to “make⁢ it” — the real, and only, draw‌ is watching⁢ young people ‍turn their lives into melodramatic wreckage. ⁤They have nothing else to offer. ⁢And the ‍real goal is not ⁤excellence in the dramatic arts. It’s fame, something⁢ Sandoval admits to in episode one: “I do want to be famous. I don’t know if I‌ want Michael Jackson-type ⁤fame, ⁤but I definitely⁤ would love to be famous.”

His Pain⁤ Is Your Pleasure (and His Payday)

It should‍ be no surprise then that #Scandoval is a ratings boon. The‍ finale hit 4.1 million viewers (who could resist this promo?), and⁣ expectations for season 11 ⁢are sky-high. Downstream, ⁤Madix and Maloney made $200,000 in merch⁢ sales attached to their yet-unopened⁤ sandwich shop. ‍Sandoval’s bar that he co-owns⁣ with castmate Tom Schwartz ​— cleverly named TomTom — is⁢ “thriving” after the news broke. ⁢Sandoval now⁣ makes headlines‌ for every‌ woman he’s spotted with, and he’ll be on season two of reality show “Special Forces.” He ‍may not be Michael Jackson level, but he’s certainly famous, and‍ #Scandoval ​is‌ his biggest break​ yet. His thoughts on this road to fame are image-obsessed and unapologetic.

In an interview ‌ with the Los Angeles Times earlier this year, ‌Sandoval was asked ​if there were any moments caught on camera that he wished⁣ he could have back. Among many choices of abandoning and betraying friends and lovers, he chose‌ a​ brief⁤ moment of actual humanity and exhaustion after multiple long days​ of shooting in season ⁣three: “I ​was sobbing,‌ ugly⁣ crying, to⁤ Kristen and I⁣ wish that wouldn’t have been on there.” At the season 10 reunion where his⁣ cheating on‌ Madix was revealed, he‌ screamed at a ‌producer that he needed time without cameras to confer⁣ with his mistress ⁢because he’s “in⁢ a very ​delicate position‌ right now.” Infidelity sure can be a PR nightmare.

When Lisa ​Vanderpump was discussing drama on ​the show, ⁣she‌ offered​ a simple assessment: “That’s what they’ve signed up for. If they’re not ⁣willing to share their life, they shouldn’t be on reality television. We’re not making some bullsh-t show.” At‌ this point, Sandoval’s real life is hard to discern from ​his public image tending. His former friends seem convinced he’s incapable of genuine remorse. Over 10 years of ​constant filming that incentivized ‌promiscuity and⁣ duplicity, ⁣a life documented rather than lived, there’s not much humanity left.

From that⁤ very first episode, Sandoval announced the Faustian bargain he had made. ⁤Fame came first, and‌ he proved ​willing to sacrifice everything for that short-term thrill. For ‌the legions ​of would-be⁢ influencers, those who must⁣ photo ⁤and video every moment of their lives, and on down to those of us ⁢who gladly⁢ trade our ​privacy for “free” services from Big Tech, Sandoval is a good reminder‌ that ‌auctioning ‍off parts of your life and integrity can leave you morally and spiritually bankrupt.

Like any good tragedy, Sandoval’s life should leave us chastened and thoughtful. He sacrificed a life⁣ of real ⁣friendships and love and experiences for⁤ a contrived life built on misdeeds and misrepresentations. ⁢He has gotten what he wanted,⁤ but watching him⁣ cry and carp and⁣ shift blame, it’s hard not‍ to ​feel he lost his soul in return. He ⁢still thinks he’s the hero of the story. We can see he’s the punch‍ line.