January 3, 2011
First of all, Brad Womack (or Wombat, as I hear it EVERY SINGLE TIME) wants you to know that he has been through therapy. He knows that it was really crappy the way he didn’t propose to either of those two ladies, DeAnna Pappas or that other one, Jenny? Jenni? Jennie? (who cares, really), when he was the Bachelor some 3 years ago or whatever. But, dude. He watched the finale all by himself in his Austin bachelor cave and had a revelation. Wombat was sad. Wombat was broken. Wombat couldn’t go to work because he spent all his time shirtless, Googling himself and feeling sadder and sadder about how he didn’t propose to DeAnna Pappas or that other lady when he had the chance. So then he got therapy. Seriously. And it turns out he had some daddy issues or something. But he dealt with it! And that treatment required a lot of time with his shirt off, staring meaningfully into Austin’s Town Lake. AND IT WORKED. Even his therapist says so. (Although the therapist keeps his shirt on while he says as much, so I’m not sure how we can really trust him on this matter. DESHIRT OR WE DO NOT TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY, SIR.) The point is, Wombat’s perfectly healthy and totally ready to get married to some stranger that he meets on a reality television program. Shirtless scout’s honor. Wombat and his giant supraorbital ridge are ready to find their life partner in the most normal way possible: having a team of television producers randomly select 30 tele-ready single ladies between the ages of 23 and 29 whom they deposit in a house full of cameras in Southern California where they are filmed 24/7, all the while Wombat takes them out on carefully crafted “dates” and then eliminates them one-by-one based on “chemistry” or somesuch until he has it narrowed down to two ladies with whom he has a similar enough attraction to so as to make for “The Most Dramatic Rose Ceremony Ever” and where he WILL, BY GOD, PROPOSE TO SOMEONE. SERIOUSLY. NOT KIDDING.
Because that’s healthy.
Let’s meet the handful of ladies Wombat will date this season whose names you should try to remember:
Ashley H. is a dentist who lives in Philadelphia and talks to inanimate statues of the Founding Fathers! Yes, she’s a dentist, but she thinks she’s an “artist” and your mouth is her canvas. Gross. Also, she likes to dance around in her underpants and tube socks.
Shawntel N. is from Chico, California and she’s an embalmer/funeral director.
Ashley S. is a southern girl living in New York City, working as a nanny. She is very sad, having lost her father two years ago. She stares out windows, sadly.
Chantal O. is a executive assistant at her father’s car dealership in Seattle. She is recently divorced and DOES NOT LIKE IT.
Michelle is a hair stylist in Salt Lake City, who has a daughter who wears giant dumb headbands. Women might be intimidated by her, but that’s ok, she’s not here to make friends. ONE REALITY SHOW STAR FOR THAT REFERENCE, MICHELLE. Also, seriously, what is that thing on your daughter’s head? Take that off.
Raichel, from Fullerton, CA, and can’t spell her name properly, is a “man-scaper,” i.e., she waxes hairy men. Why, that’s my dream job! Tell me more about giving 50-year-old men Brazilians!
Meghan works “in fashion” in New York City. This is the most generic job of all time.
Madison is a model from Brooklyn who thinks she’s a vampire, and has vampire teeth. WHERE TO BEGIN? For one thing, Madison, you only get to be one fictional creature at a time. No fair hogging two. Also, quit being ridiculous.
Emily is from Charlotte, NC and is an event planner. But, more importantly, she has an extraordinary love story. Emily fell in love and got engaged at the young age of 19 to Ricky
Bobby, the race car driver. (I’m really not making that up.) However, tragically, in October 2004, Ricky Bobby died in a plane crash on his way to a race. Emily learned a week later she was pregnant with Ricky Bobby‘s baby. Happy ending?
So, because these are the only ladies who receive full video packages where they stare into the distance meaningfully, they are really the only ones whose names you need to remember.
Still, hope springs eternal, and everyone puts on their best prom dresses to go meet the mystery bachelor, but we know not to get too attached. FOR INSTANCE:
Lacey is an insurance agent from Ft. Lauderdale. But that’s all we know (and need to know) about her.
Marissa is a sports publicist from Kissimmee, FL. And she really works this whole stupid sports angle by letting us know that it’s “game time.”
Britnee is a paralegal from Holland, PA.
Chris Harrison explains that the ladies have no idea that their mystery bachelor is Wombat. O HAI! SURPRISE! YOUR BACHELOR IS A FAIL!
We welcome back Wombat who arrives in his own limo, and who appears to be having a panic attack as he blankly stumbles towards Chris Harrison. Wombat assures Chris Harrison that this season will go much more smoothly than last time. WE’LL SEE, WOMBAT.
Before we can meet more of the new suckers who want to marry a commitmentphobic dim bulb, we have to have a chat with Wombat and discuss his therapy some more. Chris Harrison is Very Understanding and listens patiently as Wombat talks endlessly about his daddy issues. But then! When Wombat is least expecting it! Chris Harrison announces that they have a special therapy treatment for Wombat: a visit from DeAnna Pappas and That Other One! And it’s sort of tragic — you can see the gears (slowly) turning in Wombat’s head: “And anyway, Chris Harrison, this one time, my daddy didn’t pick me up from Chuck E. Ch– whaaaa? DeAnnaaaaaa? Whaaaaa?”
DeAnna Pappas and that Other One teeter out on their heels and glare at Wombat Very Seriously, and then plop themselves down on the couch next to him while he sputters for a while about how beautiful they look and how sorry he is and how he’s ready for love now and how he’s had therapy and how he’s really, really sorry. Seriously. Therapy. That Other One smiles brightly at him and forgives him, but DeAnna Pappas isn’t having it, and smears her cynicism all up on his giant simian face. Poor Wombat. He understands. After all, three years of therapy! And then the old ladies are shooed away because it’s time to meet the
new suckers new ladiez! And here come the limos!
Chantal O. is the first lady out of the limo and delivers a slap across the face for every woman in America, which would have been more alarming if it hadn’t been played in every promo for the past 6 weeks.
Kimberly is a marketing coordinator from Charlotte, NC, with LOTS OF QUESTIONS.
Alli is an apparel merchant from Columbus, OH, who wants to give him a second chance.
Ashely S., i.e. the SADDEST NANNY EVAR, is very sweet and tells him that she’s not going to hate on him. And for good measure, grabs his ass on the way into the house.
Meghan comes teetering out on some serious drag queen heels, which Wombat notices, because HOW COULD YOU NOT, but this pleases her, and she promises to give him a chance.
Marissa loudly announces that she works in sports, which obviously should be enough for any man to fall helplessly in love with her because we live in a world of clichés.
Lindsay is a 1st grade teacher from Plano, but she claims to be from Dallas.
Ashley H., the dentist, has a great deal of energy.
Raichel, the man-scaper who includes an unnecessary “I” in her name, announces that he’s the “perfect” guy for her. Which isn’t creepy at all upon meeting someone for the first time.
mermaid vampire model is wearing her stupid fake teeth. First impressions, FTW!
Melissa is a waitress from Lake Worth, Fl. And takes a running leap into his arms. She clearly thought about this entrance for a long time, which makes me kinda sad.
Renée is a nanny from Palos HIlls, IL. Wombat couldn’t be less interested.
Cristy is an attorney from Ft. Lauderdale, FL.
Jackie is an “artist” from NYC who thinks she’s Rachel from Glee. She makes him pinky swear that he won’t break her heart. Gag.
Sarah P. is a real estate broker from Denver who makes Wombat get down on his knee and propose to her. This is super healthy and no alarm bells should be going off, at all.
Chris Harrison appears out of nowhere to inform us that we’ve just met the first 15. IT’S ONLY BEEN 15?!?! GAH. Deep breath, because here’s the next limo.
Lacey is an insurance agent from Tampa, FL.
Lauren is a high school teacher from Arlington, VA, who hopes that Wombat’s history doesn’t repeat itself. She might have goat eyes.
Lisa P. is a sales consultant from NYC.
Shawntel, our funeral director, arrives, and she suddenly bears an uncomfortable resemblance to That Other One whom Wombat previously dumped. Huh.
Britnee beckons for Wombat from the limo. He’s clearly not amused.
Stacey, a bartender from Boston, has no idea who Wombat is.
Jill is a sales director from Frisco, TX. Jill announces that she’s ready to get married, which is exactly what every man loves to hear upon meeting a woman for the first time. True fact. You should try it sometime.
Lisa M. is a marketing coordinator from Ottawa, KS, who has a weird Dorothy fetish, complete with ruby slippers. Yuck.
Rebecca is an esthetician from Mission Viejo, CA. She is very excited to meet Wombat, and kisses him on the mouth after comparing him to a frog, because, sure.
J is an operations manager from Seattle and it’s her birthday.
Keltie is a Radio City Rockette and from Hollywood, CA (not New York City? There are Rockettes in California? There’s a Radio City Music Hall in California?) She enters the scene wearing a mini-dress while high kicking. Subtle.
Sarah L. is a musical theater performer in Saginaw, MA, and confesses that she can’t snap her fingers. WELL, YOU MIGHT AS WELL JUST GET BACK INTO THAT LIMO, MISSY.
Emily from Charlotte, NC is happy it’s Wombat for some reason.
Britt is a food writer from Woodinville, WA who brings him cookies or something.
Michelle, the mother who straps weird things onto her child’s head, arrives in some sort of safari outfit and Wombat seems to take a shine to her immediately. Ladies and gentlemen, have a villianess!
Chris Harrison wonders if Mrs. Wombat is inside that pit of ladiez somewhere, and Wombat assures us that, in fact, she is.
Sure she is, Wombat. Sure she is.
Chris Harrison explains to Wombat the whole first impression rose thing and how Wombat has to give it to the one woman he is certain wants to keep around. Wombat takes a deep, therapeutic breath and heads into the pit, where he begins to immediately have another panic attack. The ladies stand expectantly for a champagne toast, but as Wombat starts yammering about his past, and the last time he was here, and his daddy issues, they begin to awkwardly sit down to settle in for his tale of therapy. Wombat gives them all a chance to leave: NOW’S YOUR CHANCE TO LEAVE, LADIES. No one bites. And Wombat’s giant ape head begins to sweat a little more.
Fun! One-on-one time with the ladies! You know what’s a good ice-breaker? Talking about your three years of therapy. Which Wombat does. To Every. Single. Woman. WHEN DID THIS BECOME IN TREATMENT? Ashely S. is clearly a game-player, and assures him that she, unlike all those other harpies, doesn’t care about his past. Of course she says this with a thousand “like”s thrown in the mix, which is crazy-irritating, but Wombat doesn’t care. She’s sweet. And non-judgey. WIN FOR ASHLEY S.
Wombat then has his wrist waxed by “Rachel with an I,” because that’s what all men want/like. Although, if S&M is important to Rachel with an I, it’s probably best to get this established early on.
Jackie, the “artist” who wishes she were Rachel from Glee, begins play-acting that she is Rachel from Glee, but without all the talent, and begins painfully singing for him. Oof.
Alli talks about her big ba-donk-a-donk, until Renée steals him away, so Alli steals him back again. So Renéee steals him back again. Wash, rinse, repeat.
Mrs. Ricky-Bobby Emily has a little alone time with him. Which is perfectly sweet, and nice, and no one comes at anyone else like a spider-monkey.
However, Madison and her silly wax vampire teeth are next and Wombat is not a little freaked out. Wombat, confused by her Twilight cosplay, accuses her of thinking it’s all a game. And Madison is all, uh, um, yeah? Because it totally is?
Villainess Michelle arrives to tell him that he was courageous for not choosing a woman during his previous season. REALITY SHOW STAR NUMBER TWO. Villainess Michelle then announces that she has a daughter, and Wombat eats it up with a spoon. REALITY SHOW STAR NUMBER THREE. Well played, Villainess Michelle. Well played. And seriously, after fangs, how can you be freaked out by a kid, right?
It’s time for the big First Impression Rose, which he promptly gives to Ashley S. Villainess Michelle immediately begins plotting.
Soon after, Wombat is called away to make his final decisions for the first Rose Ceremony! Wombat will have 19 roses, and 10 ladiez who we didn’t get to know, really, will go home. Wait! There’s no labored montage with Wombat looking intensely at the glamor shots of the ladiez while he as a monologue about how he doesn’t want to hurt anyone? HAVE WE JUST DONE AWAY WITH TRADITION ALTOGETHER? Bah.
Before he starts passing out the roses, Wombat first thanks everyone, therapy, etc.
Rose #1: Villainess Michelle
Rose #2: Kimberly
Rose #3: Madison, the
Rose #4: Emily
Rose #5: Rachiel, who needs to lose that “I” already
Rose #6: Keltie, the Rockette
Rose #7: Ashley H.
Rose #8: Meghan
Rose #9: Lisa M., WHO TOOK OFF HER RUBY SLIPPERS. As far as I’m concerned, that’s grounds for immediate elimination.
Rose #10: Lindsey
Rose #11: Alli and her ba-donk-a-donk
Rose #12: Sarah P.
Rose #13: Marissa
Rose #14: Britt
Rose #15: Stacey
Rose #16: Shawntel N.
Rose #17: Jackie
Rose #18: Melissa
Rose #19: Chantel O., aka Slappy
SORRY GOAT EYES. SORRY WHOEVER THE REST OF YOU ARE. Srsly. No video package? No rose. Get out. Smell you later.
Goat Eyes takes it relatively well. Britnee cries. Lisa P. cries. WHY? WHY ARE YOU CRYING? HE’S SOME STRANGER YOU MET AT A PARTY ONE TIME. MY GOD, PULL IT TOGETHER, YOU TWITS.
Spoiler alert! This season features exotic vacations, crying, jealousy, psycho sexual play, crying and Seal singing “The Rose” which, really? It’s taken this long to save up the pennies to buy the rights to this song? Huh. Times are harder for the networks than I thought.
The Bachelor airs on Mondays at 7 p.m. on ABC. And you should think seriously about getting some therapy.
This post originally appeared on the Hearst site Chron.com.