‘Real Housewives’ exist in Jersey but maybe not Vegas

The first rule of "The Real Housewives of Las Vegas" is you do not talk about "The Real Housewives of Las Vegas."

To coincide with the launch of "The Real Housewives of New Jersey" (10 p.m. Tuesday, Bravo), I started looking into the local version that's rumored to have been in the works for months. And, talking with people involved with the Vegas production, I quickly learned intimate details of what, up until that point, had been only slightly less secretive than the Colonel's chicken recipe.

Then I disappeared down a rabbit hole of questionable motives, misdirection and lies like something out of a Jason Bourne movie. Only I just wish I had amnesia.

As convincing as the locals were that a tentative cast was set and that it likely was only a matter of time before Bravo announced the series, my Bravo contacts were even more believable when they swore that the cable channel was neither involved with nor interested in the series, wasn't looking to expand its "Real Housewives" empire -- one that also includes "Orange County," "New York City" and "Atlanta" -- and that the casting methods that were described to me weren't even the way Bravo does business.

Now, I'm way more into Laverne and Shirley than Woodward and Bernstein, but it didn't take long to figure out that, unless they were walking a semantic tightrope the likes of which hasn't been seen since Bill Clinton questioned the definition of "is," somebody was flat out lying.

The deeper I dug, the more confused I became until, as they say in the kind of bad detective movies you find on cable at 3 a.m., I got too close. A local source became spooked, told me they'd said too much and suggested that maybe I should forget the story altogether. (And, having seen more than my fair share of those movies, that was all it took to have me checking my rearview mirror for suspicious black sedans, listening for clicking sounds on my phone and noticing that every idiot with a Bluetooth was starting to look like a trained assassin.)

As far as I can tell, "The Real Housewives of Las Vegas" either exists as the city's most open secret since Liberace, is a misunderstanding of Emily Litella proportions, or is a front for a knockoff version of the Bravo franchise -- "The Actual Stay-at-Home Moms of Sin City," perhaps -- for another cable channel.

The only way to know for sure would be to have Sean Hannity come in and start waterboarding people. But for some reason, my boss doesn't think learning whether we'll land the fourth spinoff of a reality show that put "Laguna Beach," "The O.C." and "Desperate Housewives" into a blender and hit puree is worthy of a human rights violation.

For now, though, you can check out the next best thing Tuesday on the "New Jersey" version.

Former cosmetologist Jacqueline Laurita lived in Las Vegas for a decade before moving to the Garden State, and she's one of the most normal "Real Housewives" yet, especially compared to:

• Caroline Manzo, Jacqueline's "street smart" sister-in-law, whose son's goal in life is to open a string of strip clubs and car washes.

• Dina Manzo, Jacqueline's other sister-in-law, who tells her 12-year-old daughter, "You don't need me serving you dinner every single night. I think you rely on me too much for everything."

• Teresa Giudice, who makes her husband build her a mansion worthy of Pablo Escobar -- "I don't wanna live in somebody else's house," she says, "that's gross" -- and racks up $120,000 worth of furniture in a single store before she's shown starting to pay for it. In cash.

• and Danielle Staub, who's just inappropriate from head to toe. The 45-year-old divorcee's proudest accomplishment seems to be having the state's first black American Express card, she was engaged 19 times before marrying No. 20, and she keeps naked pictures of herself on her cell, which she uses to have phone sex with at least one stranger.

From what I've been told, though, the local women who've been contacted by a production company are a far classier group of self-made women who are very involved in charity work.

Classy? "The Real Housewives"? That should have been my first clue that things may not be what they seem.

Christopher Lawrence's Life on the Couch column appears on Sundays. E-mail him at clawrence@reviewjournal.com.