So, you should know this about me. To write about the Bachelor/ette, I watch the show two or three times. The first, just to soak it all in. The second for anything I missed. And the last, to capture images of the clothes. But last week I didn’t do that, because I physically couldn’t handle it. Honestly, I would rather watch a thousand of Caila’s snapchats than endure even a single additional Whaboom.
For the first time in Bachelor history, I could not defend this show to the haters. They were right. This show was just. so. stupid.
But time (and a bottle of rose) heals all wounds, and here we are, episode two of the Bachelorette, now with 30% more douchebag. Chris Harrison drops off the friend zone group date (Tickle Monster and Iggy, the narrator from Lemony Snicket are both on the card) encouraging the men to be here for the right reasons, which means that somebody is most definitely not here for the right reasons.
On the heels of Ben and Lauren’s tragic breakup (and equally tragic Freeform spinoff) the theme of Rachel’s season is “Rachel will get married, dammit) and to prove it, the first date is hosted by Mila Kunis and her husband, the dude who was in The Butterfly Effect and also kinda looks like Jared from Kaitlyn’s season, if you squint and are very, very drunk. It’s an obstacle course, testing the men’s marriageability, based on how they diaper a baby and vacuum. The only takeaway from the entire exercise is that each of these men should be sterilized immediately.
The group date concludes at PeeWee’s Playhouse, a tchocke-filled house of horrors, that sets the stage for Lucas and Blake’s plunging necklines to throw context-free barbs at one another. Somewhere in their past, the two shared a girlfriend or a roommate, or something.
Honestly, I don’t care.
Okay, so the next day Rachel and Peter, her diastema twin, board a private plane with Rachel’s adorable dog Copper, and the three head to Palm Springs for Barkfest, which is essentially Coachella for dogs. There are dog smoothies. And dogs on floaties. And dogs in flower crowns. There’s a palpable chemistry between Rachel and Peter – and I don’t hate it.
The final group date was originally Rachel’s guys measuring their dicks to see whose was the longest, but since The Bachelorette is owned by Disney, they changed it into a basketball game, in front of a live audience, which just happened to include DeMario’s scrunchies-wearing ex-girlfriend. Apparently hell hath no fury like a woman who doesn’t even know she’s being scorned until she just happens to be flipping through the channels and sees her boyfriend is a contestant on the next season of the Bachelorette.
It’s positively Shakespearean, no?
The scent of DeMario’s dumpster fire still lingers in the air (or maybe that’s his cologne) as Rachel puts on a brave face for the rose ceremony. It’s time to put the drama behind her and find love. Right? Wrong. This is the Bachelorette, and why do in one episode what you can accomplish less efficiently (and more dramatically) in two. So, DeMario, despite being sent home, shows up at the mansion, asking to speak to Rachel.
That’s so 2014 of you, Chris Bukowski.
Despite knowing the DeMario is a dirty dog, Rachel’s curiosity (and her contract) get the better of her, and she agrees to see him. So, that’s what’s happening next week.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know when it is time to stop watching this show.