We’ve reached the pinnacle of Bachelorette platitudes: Lee isn’t here to make friends. And if you don’t believe him, just check out his Twitter feed. But before you judge him (and believe me, I’m judging him) make sure you take in his obligatory sad story. Over the years, we’ve come to expect a tragic backstory from some, if not most, of our Bachelor faves. The death of a loved one can catapult a contestant into Bachelor fame (see: Emily Maynard) or infamy (see also: Kelsey Poe.)
And Lee is here for it. Sure, by your 30’s it’s most likely that you’ve lost at least one grandparent. And, sure, it’s sad, but maybe not so sad that you need to get on the bad side of a professional wrestler. But Lee does not want to squander his fifteen minutes. So he sloppily carves the word “enchanting” into a block of wood that was probably used to balance a wobbly table at craft services, and makes his move. And by “move” I mean attempting to pull Rachel’s heartstrings (his words) by tearlessly recounting the time his Grandpa “got” cancer.
Go ahead. Now you can judge him for every fucking awful thing he’s said, because this guy is seriously the worst. In fact, he’s so awful that, naturally, Rachel has to keep him around for another week. And with that, we’re off to Hilton Head!
The first one-one-one date goes to Dean, who I’m not fully convinced isn’t just a plant to subliminally get us to watch Boy Band on ABC later this week. And. I. Don’t. Hate. It. He and Rachel fulfill one of her childhood fantasies, to fly in a blimp and use the LED signage to rub it in other people’s faces.
Remember the part where I said that a tragic backstory can make a contestant into a superstar? Well this is it for Dean. After changing into a pair of white jeans, Dean breaks down, recounting his idyllic childhood that was abruptly cut short when his mother confessed to him, in hospice, that she was never coming home, and the way his family fell apart without her.
Also, fuck you, Lee. Seriously.
The pacing on the episode is excellent. We’re already on the group date and there’s less than a half hour to go. What could possibly go wrong? Rachel treats the guys to a ride on a chartered yacht. After plying them full of sea breezes and push up contests she breaks the news: they are competing in a spelling bee.
Rachel informs us, as she’s surrounded by a dozen men who look like they’re photoshopped, that smart is sexy. And she’s not wrong. If I were in my 20’s, I would give every potential suitor a spelling test. And an STD panel. The guys are unsurprisingly nervous, with good reason: half of them don’t know the difference between your and you’re. But not Josiah. He’s ready for this because his vocabulary is on another level. He knows words. He has the best words. And like another arrogant blowhard with a lot of words, he wins and I spend the rest of the night rolling my eyes at him.
Hey. Did you even know there’s a contestant named Iggy? Apparently, while I’m drooling over Peter, he’s gathering important intel, and taking it back to Rachel because he knows the only way he’s sticking around is to position himself as her best friend and protector. Unfortunately this is The Bachelorette and not middle school, and everyone knows snitches get stitches. And Iggy is such a bad snitch that after he finishes tattling to Rachel about the other guys, he goes back to the guys and tells on himself.
On the bright side, not knowing how to spell boudoir isn’t what made him look like an idiot last night.
The final showdown comes, unexpectedly, from Rachel and Kenny. After the previous rose ceremony’s fireworks, Rachel calls Kenny out for his voice-raising antics. (Egged on by Lee, natch.) But while Kenny seems to have learned from his mistakes, Lee is empowered by them, assuring a blank-faced Peter and Alex that he could say mean things to them, but chooses not to, before he plucks a hair out of thin air.
I don’t even know what that means.
Next week, Kenny confronts Lee. Again. My money is them having a 2-on-1.