There’s something so contrived about last night’s episode. Like, Nick and the producers got together and said, “you know what would be great? If it seemed like you were so distraught that you were actually considering quitting the show, but then your desire for a relationship overcame your indecision, and you ultimately continue on, fueled by love and optimism.”
See, the problem, of course, is this isn’t a John Hughes movie; it’s the Bachelor, and I just want to watch attractive people get drunk in a hot tub. So can we cut the shenanigans and get back to the fact that Nick Viall would never give up the opportunity to be on television, and also, those Bachelor contracts are enforced tighter than the billion year commitment to Scientology.
The episode opens with Raven playing the part of the narrator from Lemony Snicket. Nick fidgets in his tight, tight shorts while Chris Harrison plays the de facto therapist, halfheartedly reminding Nick that the Bachelor is his only source of income these days. Reluctantly, Nick returns to the ladies to tell them that they’ve all been Punk’d and they’re going to Bimini.
Whoever is in charge of the Bachelor knows that nobody (except, apparently fans of Dexter and Real Housewives afficianados) knows where Bimini is, so they show this cute little graphic of the island of Bimini, and now I’m pretty sure the Bachelor is going to become a part of the school curriculum under Betsy DeVos.
The women arrive at their hotel, and judging by their reaction I’m now wondering if they actually all spend their lives in an underground bunker. The explore the rooms! And the windows! And the beds! Then Vanessa gets the first date card prompting Corinne calls her a bitch. Good to see she still hasn’t cracked that Emotional Intelligence book Taylor left behind.
Vanessa informs Nick it’s her first time on a boat, validating my “living in a bunker” theory. After a day of frolicking in the ocean, Vanessa is feeling pretty good. She wants to tell Nick she’s falling in love with him, and she’s confident he’ll return the sentiment; mostly because Nick has been on the franchise three times and he’s always falling in love. As she begins to share her feelings, Nick’s eyes light up. Not because he’s reciprocating her feelings but because this is totally going to balance out the ratio of women who’ve said I love you to number of times he’s been dumped on national television.
Which is probably Nick’s motivation for being on this show in the first place.
Nick explains that when he finally tells a woman he loves her this season, she’s going to be the only one, throwing some serious shade at Ben Higgins who handed out “I love you’s” like condoms in a health class (before Betsy DeVos, I mean.) Vanessa’s face falls like mine when I’m overdue for botox.
The group date takes Raven, Corinne and Kristina to the middle of the ocean to swim with the sharks, and, for once, I’m not being metaphorical. Kristina knows way too much about sharks and their three rows of teeth. At first site of Jaws, she’s out of the water. Nick consoles her, to Corinne’s dismay, who now talking about herself in the third person and worrying that she won’t get a rose since Kristina wasn’t eaten by a shark. Ultimately it’s Raven who gets the rose, because Nick knows she’s the only one who would fight off a shark with a stiletto if he were attacked.
Apparently the lease on the yacht is up, so Nick takes Danielle bike riding around Bimini during their date. From the beginning it’s obvious their conversation is strained, not exclusively because Danielle speaks so softly it’s hard to hear what she’s saying half the time. Also, there may or may not be a short shorts competition going on, because both Danielle and Nick are basically in various stages of underwear disguised as outerwear. After a day of one word answers, and observations of the weather, Danielle decides to use the evening part of the date to profess her feelings. As she begins to tell Nick how much she cares about him, you can actually see the light go out in his eyes. She’s about to say the “L” word, and now he’s the guy who dumped the girl with the dead fiance.
There goes all that hard work redeeming your reputation, buddy.
If someone as pretty and sweet as Danielle can’t win Nick’s cold, black heart, what chance does Corinne, a 24-year-old with a Nanny and narcolepsy have of snagging the final rose. Not much, if you ask me, but Corinne gets what Corinne wants -usually by speaking about herself in the third person. She puts on her tallest stilettos, her tightest pants and her platinumest vagine and heads to Nick’s room for a nightcap.
We’ve seen this all before, and we know how Nick loves a salacious hookup, but this is Nick 2.0. After a quick handy in the bathroom, Nick advises Corinne that they should slow down out of respect for the other women. Humiliated, Corinne stumbles back to her hotel, filled with doubt and bad champagne.
The final date card goes to Rachel, which would be more interesting if we didn’t already know that she’s the next Bachelorette. They have one of the most authentic conversations in Bachelor history, where Nick skirts the discussion about race, and Rachel answers it head on: she’s dated white men, but never brought one home. Her family is filled with diversity, so settle the fuck down America.
She’s going to be a fantastic Bachelorette.
Rachel returns from her date elated. The threat level for Corinne is as yellow as her nail polish. But her worries are for naught. Because Nick enters the girls’ house – without knocking, I might add – asking to speak to Kristina. “I love you, but I’m not in love with you,” he begins, because he’s seen it work in the romantic comedies he watched, alone, after being dumped by Andi and Kaitlyn. “You deserve someone who doesn’t say to you that they have stronger feelings for someone else.”
Jesus Christ, Nick. Doesn’t everyone deserve that?
Next week, Andi Dorfman returns, proving that writing a book really doesn’t make you any money.
The following are my favorite looks of the week. This was by far the best dressed week this season. Or my standards are getting lower. Whatever. Whenever I could, they’re the exact items. Occasionally, it’s a similar look because I couldn’t find the exact, and didn’t care enough to try any harder. Call it the Nick-effect.