And it got me wondering...What about the setup of this show makes people think it's important to lead with a bummer? To manufacture deep connection? Show vulnerability? Play a sympathy card? These guys this week (and last) are not unique. Season after season, contestants seem to feel the need to buttonhole the object d'amour at the first opportunity and explain how he or she was abandoned by a parent, the lone survivor of a fiery car crash, damaged by a bad relationship, afflicted by cancer...you get the idea. Odd, isn't it? At a normal singles mixer, who walks up to the person who's caught your eye and says "I just really need to tell you I'm an orphan"?
I think I've figured out one way that villains make it so far in this show: They keep their secrets and talk about fun stuff. Take a note, over-serious guys. Let the tragedies come out a little more organically.
The point at which I think Des had stopped listening was the same point at which Evil Ben interrupted and took her off for a cheerful conversation. Yeah, the same guy who got a rose earlier for...what?...having cheerful conversations. And what was he interrupting? The desperately important news that Brandon has...(drumroll)...TYPE I DIABETES. Yup, serious, for sure. I know a few people who have it. But it was never the first thing I knew about them. It would come up when they refused dessert or asked for a glass of juice. The fact that Brandon thinks this is a HUGE HUGE SECRET that is VERY IMPORTANT to share RIGHT UP FRONT because it's a TERRIFYING condition that he lives with EVERY DAY tells me he's got a crappy endocrinologist. Dude, if you're living in terror, the person who's supposed to be supporting your quality of life is doing a lousy job.
If we've learned anything from past seasons, though, it's that Bachelor producers love to push people out of their comfort zones. At our watch party Jill suggested we'd be seeing him on a Willy Wonka-esque journey-through-candyland group date.
But it took that long for things to get interesting. First she had the always-cursed first date with Peach Fuzz Brooks. Goofing off at her bridal shop, sunset atop the Hollywood sign, dinner on a closed street. We've seen this before. In fact, this exact date. Remember Ali and Frank, the guy with the "retail consultant" (shirt-folder at the Gap) job? I took no notes.
After that, the painful group date, in which the men were supposed to come up with rap verses for a music video. The standards by which someone is supposed to judge the candidates are strange indeed. I have a good number of friends. Fun people, in fact, who think I'm fun, too. Nay, even funny, in a pinch. But I would be so excruciatingly uncomfortable in that setting I'd make everyone else wish they could disappear. Axe. Then again, given the predisposition toward narcissism required to be on the show at all, maybe thinking about how quickly I'd get bypassed has very little to do with what's going on here.
Bryden "Bangs" the Veteran had the next solo date. In light of the apparent producer-pimping of his veteran status, I expected the date to involve a visit to disabled flag makers or making blankets for soldiers' children, but the the byline was the only place where "veteran" ever showed up. And even that was frequently covered by the scroll of tweets criticizing his hair. "Sweep your bangs to one side!" "Get a new barber!" Agree. I miss Des's bangs, and his cut-along-a-piece-of-tape fringe isn't making up for it. Oh, and in case you've gotten a great date idea for yourself from the show, let me clarify--as a Californian--that orange grove owners do not, as a rule, welcome passers-by to drive into the grove, pull oranges off the trees, and spread themselves out for a picnic in the shade.
And finally, the Des and the Dirks mixer, which seems a more apt name than "party," which ought to be an event people would be excited to come to. Men in suits, talking to each other, fighting over the one woman invited? Who'd want to come to that party? Well, Five-O'Clock-Super-Shadow Mikey T, for one, whose "right reasons" for being there seem to be mostly to make friends with the guys. Bro's before ho's, all the way. Earlier in the show, he confronted the dastardly Ben (suspected by the other men of not being there for the right reasons) by saying Ben seemed fake, and that Mikey T just wanted to be friends. Reassured they were, he shared a handshake and went back to the pool. As the mixer opened, he said he "doesn't want anyone to go home." Well sure. They're bro's. Then after Ben interrupted Brandon's HUGE HUGE SECRET revelation, I had to back up and double check to figure out whether I was seeing actual cartoon steam coming out of Mikey T's ears over the offense. Not Brandon's. MIKEY T's. He was mortally offended by an action in which he was not involved. In any way at all. Not even a witness. Didn't know about it until the bro's told him. I gave Mikey T a one-smiley rating coming out of the first show. I was way off. His entertainment value ratings are doubling and redoubling all over themselves.
At the end of the evening, Des sent home the three least Dirk-like guys remaining. Hi-Fiver Will, Robert the Sign Spinner (for whom I thought Des had a little sparkle at the beginning), and Nick M., the least "financial advisor" looking of the financial advisors. She must have told producers before the season started that she never understood why Belle in Beauty and the Beast didn't go for Gaston. "Now that's the kind of man I'm after," she said. Maybe if the men looked around at each other a little more critically they'd see how little interest she must have in personal tragedies and save them for a little later in the relationship. You know, like normal people.
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