10 minutes later, they were tragically killed by that boat |
The show starts with Emily on the beach in Curacao, writing
in the sand, about to reveal the name of her one true love:
EMILY
Perhaps the most honest show-opening ever.
But then, she writes a coy little + ? and just at the moment, the tide washes ashore and
dramatically erases the question mark.
Now maybe this was just some nifty editing, but it seemed
seamless, so I have this vision of a team of marine biologists, meteorologists,
and cameramen yelling, “NOW! NOW! NOW! IT'S GO TIME!” as Emily crouches in the sand and does
her handiwork.
It’s the final three dates, which usually means “Fantasy
suites” (boom chicka wah wahhh), but in Emily’s case means “Chastity suites”
(sad trombone).
She starts things out with hunky banana Sean and he’s as
yellow and shiny and “is that hair or his scalp?”-y as ever. I worry very much
that he will burn to a crisp in the sun and we’ll end up with Bananas FlambĂ©.
"Let's add sun screen to our wedding registry" |
So Sean has yet to tell Emily he loves her. He’s waiting for
the “right time.”
And here’s the thing with these two crazy kids: There’s only
one person on this show (and possibly this planet) as passive aggressive as
Emily, and that’s Sean.
He’s not going to tell Emily he loves her until he’s darn
ready. And she’s not going to even LET HIM get down on one knee until he
officially declares his undying love.
“I’m crazy about you,” Sean says.
Not good enough, blondie.
“I’ve never had these feelings before”
Nice try, lemonhead.
“I want to spend my life with you.”
You wish, mellow yellow.
And finally, after a day of helicopter rides and private
beaches and awkward lick-kisses, he says it:
“I love you, Emily.”
At which point, she doesn’t so much celebrate as gloat.
“I love you, Emily.”
At which point, she doesn’t so much celebrate as gloat.
Later, Sean reads Emily a letter that he wrote for Ricki.
(This now officially qualifies as the first-ever epistolary season of The
Bachelorette.)
Fantasy suite time.
Strangely enough, Sean seems eager to go to the fantasy suite—“to talk”
(because who wouldn’t fantasize about conversatin’ with Emily!). And Emily
seems eager to accompany him.
Then, somehow, something gets lost in translation and she’s
kicking Sean back to his room. I guess they realized that after discussing how
NOT STRAINED AND AWKWARD things are between them, they didn’t have much else to
talk about.
“No doubt about it, I’m going to marry that girl,” Sean
says.
Change the word “that” to “a” in that sentence and it will
be accurate. (Okay, that was mean.)
Now it’s Jef’s turn.
Jef just keeps marveling over how crazy it is that Emily
“gets” him so well and he “gets” her. (Because they’re such complicated people—they’re
like the Pythagorean theorem of date-show contestants.)
“I’ve never met two people who were more perfect for each
other,” Jef says. (Except perhaps for Kris Humphries and Kim Kardashian.)
Jef has a nice body by "human" standards, but not by "Bachelor" standards (Just sayin') |
Jef, very much to his credit, is the first to be concerned
over the fact that he’s never met Ricki.
But Emily kind of brushes that aside like, “It ain’t no
thang. Ricki likes what I like—boyz!!”
Then Emily asks Jef to the fantasy suite and she is DENIED.
“I plan on spending every night with you in our own little fantasy suite,” says Jef. (Chivalrous, Mormon, or gay? Discuss among yourselves.)
“I wanted to turn him down. But he kinda turned me down,”
says Emily.
What’s all this “kinda” stuff about?
In an unrelated note: I love Jef’s voice, don’t you? It’s so
soothing. I just want him to read the “Book of Mormon” to me as I fall asleep
at night. (By the way, complete conjecture on this Mormon thing. But it seems a
bit more plausible than “member of a
goat slaughtering cult.”)
Finally Arie’s date.
It’s hard to really describe this date, because so little
talking happens on it. (Emily totally needs a bumper sticker that reads: “I’d
Rather Be Making Out With Arie.”)
They meet on the dock. They kiss.
They go on the boat. They kiss.
They take a step forward. They kiss.
They stand still. They kiss.
They notice something in the distance. They kiss.
They notice nothing in the distance. They kiss.
Well, you get the point. . .
Nom nom nom! |
In fact, Emily is so hot for Arie, she won’t even mention
the fantasy suite to him. She’s like, “La, la, la, the fantasy suite doesn’t
exist” with her fingers in her ears.
“I don’t trust myself,” she admits. “I won’t let myself go
there. But good lord, he’s hot.”
(No arguments here, Emily.)
(No arguments here, Emily.)
They shake hands goodnight (just kidding—they totes make
out) and call it an evening.
You know what's fun? Kissing Arie, that's what's fun! |
Judgment day and Emily is freaking out.
Chris Harrison, meanwhile, is playing dumb.
“Why so sad, Emily?”
"Sad" |
So she has a little breakdown and stares at the photos and
watches the little videos and, finally, emerges to break the news to one
unlucky Bachelor.
Here’s the thing. This has been a mediocre Bachelorette
season by all accounts. Two semi villains, Kalon and Ryan, both jettisoned far
too soon. Lots of wholesome contestants. Not enough man-fights. Too many damn
letters.
But I must say, the suspense is KILLING ME.
I really believe Emily when she says that she loves all
three of these guys (or at least The Bachelorette’s obsessive, crushy,
non-reality-based version of “love”)
First rose goes to Jef. (He’s prepared a little letter of
thanks.)
And the next rose goes to. . .Arie.
Poor Sean. He’s the saddest hunky banana of them all.
Emily escorts him to a sad little bench and they stare at
each other, sadly.
“What are you feeling right now?” Emily asks and I literally
yell at my TV screen, “BULLSHIT!”
I mean, I know there’s nothing Emily loves talking about
more than Emily. But maybe this one time she could break her “all Emily all the
time” rule and say something nice about SEAN?
“I don’t know what to say,” he mumbles.
“I wanted it to be you more than you know,” Emily says.
WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? (No matter how you slice it, though, it
sounds like an insult.)
So Sean slunks to the loser limo and contemplates where it
all went wrong.
Somehow, it just seems sadder to me, that is says “Insurance
Agent” under his name as he talks.
I hope he took out an insurance policy ON HIS HEART.
Next week is the God damned Bachelors Tell All special. Can
I wait two weeks without being spoiled?
Sources say “fat chance.”
Sources say “fat chance.”
No comments:
Post a Comment