I haven't even seen this show and I'm already hoping everyone splits up. What's wrong with me? Why am I buying into this madness?

My new quasi-boyfriend Dave* - and I call him quasi because we're somewhere between 'dating' and 'going steady' - reacted in a predictable fashion when I brought up the show.

How do you think we'd do on that show?" I asked between stabs of broccoli.

"Ha! Wouldn't last a day."

He gulped his water. He's an assssssscerbic kind of guy.

But ruhlly, isn't this show designed for people to break up? And what is it we find so fascinating with being the voyeurs of someone else's tumble through the Lookinglass? I have an image of Alice and a little rabbit and we're on the outside, hoping she leaves him for the nebbish in the top hat.

And the "tempters" - they're the best. First, not a one of 'em over 28. Am I right about that? And this one beautiful Asian chick has abs that make my local trainer nervous. I think this tempter moonlights as a physicist, but I can't be sure.

In this world of perfect people, is it any wonder that my beau- or beau-to-be or beau-that-was once he reads this, considers us toast for a show like that? I was thinking along these lines. We're like the couple who would seem to be too good of friends to withstand the temptation; we are definitely not like the black actors who were hiding the kid. At least, I don't think we are ("Dave, where you hiding the baby?)

Point is - and I do have one - is that too much temptation is a bad thing. There are like seventeen gazillion people in this world, and maybe one thirtieth of them are attractive; another half of those are drop-dead gorgeous. But hey, I don't work at Gallup, I'm just making this stuff up. So divide that by two - the two being you and your significant other, the one who farts without introduction (sorry, this is real), sleeps without concern for cutting off your circulation when his big fat arm is across your chest, and thinks positioning a postcard of a woman's uh, vagina monologues, next to his bed is adorable ... and add that to the one who's perfect, who writes flawless sentences and never so much as belches or says an unkind word to anyone (that would be me; how conveeeeeeeeeeenient) ...and well, you have Scream 4 waiting to happen.

But then, I'm bitter. At 39, I know I'm not "Temptation" material - and it hurts. Sure, in real life - temptation city, baby. But frankly, a size 10-12 woman in a loincloth even on the best of days, just ain't gonna cut it (unless you pan up and around the trouble spots and are so overcome by laughing at my jokes, you forget that unsightly middle!)

Yeah, Dave's right. We'd last a day - if that. He'd be all over the hot blonde from Malibu and I'd be running into the ocean screaming bloody murder.

But hell, that would be great television.

* - name changed