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This week marked a milestone in our house: my wife and I are officially empty nesters. Our son moved into his own place, and while we’re incredibly proud of him, there’s been one unexpected side effect—our dinnertime TV negotiations just got a lot harder.
Before, it was two against one. My son and I could usually team up to outvote her when it came to what we watched. But now? Now it’s just the two of us and her love of reality TV. And friends, that’s a genre I’d rather watch from the inside of an MRI machine.
Let’s be clear: I’ve tried. I’ve watched one episode of Love Is Blind, Survivor, and even that one where rich people scream at each other in Beverly Hills. But I have a firm policy—if I have to hear the phrase “journey of self-discovery” during a wine-fueled pool party again, I’m out.
We’ve had a fragile truce watching 9-1-1 (Season 8 finale pending—yes, a post is coming). But tonight, as I was hopping from Peacock to Hulu to cue it up, something on Peacock caught my eye: Destination X.
The description sounded like a fever dream engineered in a lab to keep peace in a marriage:
📍 Reality show? Check.
🧩 Game show vibes? Check.
🧠 European geography trivia that lets me flex my obscure history knowledge from high school? Double check.
I clicked play, hoping for the best and bracing for the worst.
To my surprise, Destination X is… actually good?
The premise is simple but clever: contestants are traveling somewhere in Europe and have to figure out where they are using only cryptic clues. It’s part Amazing Race, part geography bee, with just enough drama to keep things moving without veering into trashy chaos.
I was immediately intrigued—and then Jeffrey Dean Morgan showed up and my brain short-circuited.
It wasn’t even his voice that tipped me off. It took me a full 30 seconds into his first scene before I shouted “Not Glenn!!” at the screen like a proper emotionally unstable adult.
As far as game mechanics go, I did great at the bag-sorting challenge. (Someone please validate me.) But the final map placement? Yikes. I would’ve ended up south of where Josh Martinez landed, and he got eliminated, so… yeah. Ego bruised.
And just as I was settling into my smugness, the episode ended. That’s right—no autoplay. No immediate binge. Just a cold, hard “Next episode coming soon.”
Which means, somehow, this post is actually timely. Honestly, that might be the most shocking twist of the night.
Bottom line: Destination X might’ve just earned a spot on our weeknight watchlist. My wife liked it, I liked it, and we didn’t end up arguing about how much wine is too much for a single episode of Vanderpump Rules. Win-win.
Bring on Episode 2.
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