‘The Bachelorette’: Trapped in the Bermuda Triangle with You

The Bachelorette
June 4, 2012

Big news, mancattle! This week’s dates include a 1-on-1, a group date and The Dreaded 2-on-1. So go inside the McMANsion, and pack your unflattering shorts and tall socks, because all three dates will take place in Bermuda. You didn’t really think we were going to spend the remainder of the season going on dates in strip malls and to the NASCAR Hall of Fame, did you?

St. Emily explains that she will be pulling Ricky Bobby Jr. out of school so that she can accompany her while she television dates a series of strange men in more scenic locations than the soccer field and her kitchen, which is just very healthy and not going to mess up Ricky Bobby Jr. for life. See, look! Ricky Bobby Jr. will be flying kites and playing miniature golf with her mother while in Bermuda, and not just hanging out in the hotel with a nanny! Well, at least for the half hour it takes to film this before St. Emily is ferried off to some sort of “dream date” with 8 shaved manapes, she will be. Family time!

The manherd arrives at the hotel on the manliest of transportations: scooters. After some free (in exchange for the lodging, obviously) advertising for the hotel delivered by Alejandro (Who? Exactly.), the first date card arrives: “Doug the Dad: Let our senses lead the way … St. Emily.” Doug the Dad immediately begins making worried, self-deprecating noises about potentially not receiving a rose and being sent home. And Cal Naughton Jr., who is already disappointed that he wasn’t chosen for the date, even though HE WAS JUST CHOSEN FOR A DATE, begins to poke at Doug the Dad with a giant stick, teasing him for being so nervous. Doug the Dad’s teeny eyes flash with anger, but St. Emily arrives just before it erupts into something else. In the interview, Cal Naughton Jr. laughs, “DOUG THE DAD ANGRY, DOUG THE DAD SMASH, DOUG THE DAD SAD.” Which: wrong manape, Cal Naughton Jr., I think you’re thinking of Pineapple Head. But nevertheless, I like the way you think.

St. Emily and Doug the Dad go on one of those boring “let’s walk around this charming town and look at the natives” dates, in which the bachelor/ette has to try to explain with a straight face is exactly what real life with them would be like. Just walking around, buying tiny glass frog sculptures and mixing perfumes, as you do on an average Saturday. Along the way, St. Emily asks Doug the Dad about being a father, and he is all, “Aw, shucks, it’s nothing, I had great father figures in my own father and grandfather. And oh, by the way, did I mention that I started a charity? I totally did. No big deal, really.” St. Emily marvels at how “perfect” Doug the Dad is and wonders if he ever gets grouchy or has a bad day. “Sure!” Doug the Dad offers. “I was a mite peeved at some of the other guys when you arrived this afternoon! Also, I hand weave mosquito nets for African orphans in my spare time. Just something I do.”

St. Emily pulls out a postcard that she purchased at one of the glass collectibles or incense or headband stores they passed through earlier, and she suggests they write his son a letter. This obviously moves Doug the Dad, who appreciates St. Emily’s thoughtfulness and kindness and you’ll have to excuse me while I go brush this saccharine film off of my teeth, they’re beginning to hurt.

Hey! Good news, single guys! They’re still looking for the next Bachelor! (African-American gentlemen need not apply thanks to “free speech.“)

At dinner, St. Emily worries that Doug the Dad always gives just the right answers to her questions and that he’s hiding something from her. According to St. Emily, Doug the Dad is “too perfect,” which reminds her of Wombat, and oh. Oh, honey, no. I mean, is Doug the Dad a little on the monosyllabic side? Does he have a predominant supraorbital ridge and sometimes looks like he has the intelligence of a panicked animal? Does he yammer somewhat incessantly about his daddy issues? Sure. I guess these are all fair comparisons to Wombat. But in no way did any of those things make Wombat “perfect,” so let’s stop throwing that word around, Dum-dum.

Anyhoodle, St. Emily tries to goad Doug the Dad into telling her something not perfect about himself, and asks what his ex-girlfriend would say about him. “I spend too much time being a perfect father, for one. Also, I didn’t have time to wash her car on account of all the homeless pets I’ve rescued from fires that I feed and walk on my days off. Other than that? I’m just Doug the Dad.” St. Emily narrows her eyes in suspicion, but after conceding that it’s difficult to be put on the spot and told to list your worst features, she gives Doug the Dad the date rose, because of course she does. Unless Doug the Dad’s big secret that everyone seems to think he’s hiding is that he’s a bath salt zombie, and begins eating the other manapes’ faces off or begins cutting out and throwing his intestines at Chris Harrison, he’ll be in the last four — if not last two — no doubt.

Doug the Dad then explains to the camera that he was taught by his grandfather to not kiss a woman until they let you know they want to be kissed. “If St. Emily wants a kiss from Doug the Dad, she’ll let Doug the Dad know she wants a kiss from Doug the Dad,” he says entirely in the third person.

  1. This makes me have to reconsider Cal Naughton Jr.’s Hulk joke and whether or not I have to concede his point.
  2. I think we’ve found Doug the Dad’s fault you guys, AND IT IS TURRRRRIBLE.

Also: No kiss for Doug the Dad. No kiss for you. Try again next time, wimp.

Back at the hotel, the group date card arrives: “Let’s set sail on the sea of love. Head Injury Charlie, Pineapple Head, Smug Chris, Justin Wannabieber, Eggy, Dallas Sean, Cal Naughton Jr., Kalon Dru-Zod.” This means Wolfboy, Austin Michael, Alejandro and Some Guy Named Nate are all up for the 2-on-1 date. None of them are happy about this at all, except for Austin Michael who seems utterly indifferent.

Kalon Dru-Zod explains that with sailing he is in his “element” and that he is ready to “hit the high seas” with St. Emily, which in turn makes me want to “hit his stupid cliché-making mouth.” The other men assure the camera while they know nothing about sailing, they will pick it up because they are “competitive.” Which is a valuable quality to have when learning how to sail, obviously. The men are told that they will be split into two teams and race each other for the chance to hang out with St. Emily that evening. To prepare for the race, the men are taught how to get out of the sailboat captain’s way “sail,” and everyone keeps yammering about how “stoked” they are because the Bro Vocabulary is very limited.

Team Red: Dallas Sean, Eggy, Head Injury Charlie and Smug Chris.

Team Yellow: Justin Wannabieber, Pineapple Head, Cal Naughton Jr. and Kalon Dru-Zod.

Racing through the water, racing through the water, racing through the water, and Team Yellow wins. However it seems a little unfair, considering the extra weight and drag that was created by all that forehead that Team Red had to contend with.

The Van of Losers is packed full of losers and neck muscle and sent back to the hotel.

At the Winner’s Afterparty, Grandpa Simpson Head proposes a toast to St. Emily: TO TROPHY WIFE, ME LIKE. And instead of saying, “Well, that’s it, Pineapple Head, I have had exactly enough of you!” St. Emily simply giggles and raises her glass. NO MA’AM. TRY AGAIN.

After canoodling and reassuring Cal Naughton Jr. on the beach for a while, St. Emily goes outside with Justin Wannabieber, where the two huddle under a blanket and make vague noises about “liking” one another. This leads exactly nowhere, as Justin Wannabieber doesn’t kiss a very willing St. Emily because he hasn’t gone through puberty yet.

Next up is Ryan, his stupid hair and what he thinks is his clever game. He explains to St. Emily that, ME RESPONSIBLE. ME MATURE. ME NO IMPRESS YOU, ME MAKE IMPRESSION ON YOU. (Deep things are deep.) St. Emily shares her concerns about some of the comments he made last week regarding her getting fat, because those were gross, horrible, somewhat misogynistic comments to make AND SHOULD HAVE SENT HIM BACK TO THE SPRINGFIELD RETIREMENT CASTLE. Ryan tries to dodge the question. ME FLIRT. But it wasn’t flirty, Ryan. It was jerky, come on. Somehow emboldened by this discussion, Ryan decides that now is the perfect time to scold St. Emily for kissing Cal Naughton Jr. and being a hussy in full view of everyone. WHAT KIND MESSAGE YOU SEND? LITTLE GIRLS SEE YOU. ME SEE YOU. ME NO LIKE. St. Emily is understandably and appropriately offended by this, and yet she does not demand that he and his tiny pineapple-shaped skull go get into a cab and go home yesterday.

Ugh. This guy.

St. Emily in theory speaks to Kalon Dru-Zod, not that we see any of it, because ugh, that guy. Even the producers are like, “I don’t care what that terrible thing that Kryptonian said to her in their conversation, we are not using it, because we can’t look at him and his stupid fake glasses ANYMORE.”

And finally, St. Emily gives Justin Wannabieber the date rose because … ? No one has any idea? Ryan doesn’t care, though: WE DEEP. WE HAVE DEEP CONNECTION. DEPTH.

The Dreaded 2-on-1 Date card arrives: “Wolfboy and Some Guy Named Nate: Let’s explore this Bermuda Triangle … St. Emily.” And so the three morosely board a yacht and morosely go cave jumping and morosely get back onto the yacht to go to dinner, and everyone talks about how much “fun” they are having, but no one is having fun. Not one of these people are having the slightest bit of fun.

They are then forced to eat dinner together in a cave, which HA HA HA, wut? WAIT. Is there going to be a cave-in? PLEASE TELL ME THERE IS GOING TO BE A CAVE-IN. In fact, can we lead all the Bachelorette contestants down into those caves and then orchestrate a cave-in?

Sadly, there is no cave-in. Instead, the grim date continues grimly until something perfect and beautiful and wonderful happens: “Is this quinoa?” asks Some Guy Named Nate Who From Here On Out (the next couple of paragraphs) Shall Be Known As “Quinoa.”

“Is this quinoa?” Quinoa asks, brightly, hopefully, as though this side of quinoa on his plate, this changes everything. If this is quinoa, actual quinoa, on his plate he will be able to handle being on this humiliating date with another man. If this is quinoa on his plate, it doesn’t matter that none of the other manapes remember his name, even though he’s been living with them for a month now. If this is quinoa on his plate, he might, just this one time, he might be able to get through the night without crying himself to sleep.

“Is this quinoa?” Beautiful.

St. Emily takes Quinoa to another section of cave and asks him about himself. And Quinoa, bless his quinoaey heart, begins openly weeping while talking about his parents and brother and friends back home which makes St. Emily pat Quinoa on the head, call him innocent and send him back to the table.

St. Emily then takes Wolfboy aside and he’s like, “Yeah, I’m 30 and don’t cry when talking about my parents, so how about that date rose?” And as soon as she returns to the table she obviously gives it to Wolfboy, because come on. Adios, Quinoa. You and your enthusiasm for high-protein grains shall be missed.

While St. Emily was trapped in a cave and forced to have conversations about side dishes, the mancattle were busy engaged in Very Important Debates about whether or not 25-year-olds are as mature as 30-year-olds. (They are not.) 25-year-old Smug Chris takes the side that he is, in fact, just as mature as 33-year-old Doug the Dad even though 1. Doug the Dad is 8 years older and 2. a father. Doug the Dad is understandably incredulous, and Sean Dallas suggests the most incredible thing he can come up with: if maturity is so important, why not just have a bunch of 40-year-olds compete. 40-YEAR-OLDS?!?! EW GAH GROSS!!!

The next day, St. Emily prepares for the rose ceremony, while harassing her daughter about her reading sight words. See? She hasn’t forgotten that Ricky Bobby, Jr. is here! And she’s even making her do some “homework.” SO STOP JUDGING HER PARENTING, Y’ALL. SHE IS MAKING OUT WITH THESE MANSLUTS AS MUCH FOR LITTLE RICKY BOBBY JR. AS SHE IS FOR ANYONE.

St. Emily arrives at the rose ceremony, immediately takes poor forgotten Alejandro aside and assures him that she does know that he exists. So quit whinging, you.

St. Emily then spends a little time with Grandpa Simpson Head, whom the other men agree would be awesome to send home. AND IN FACT, IT WOULD. Ryan turns the tables on St. Emily, and asks WHY YOU WORTHY OF ME PINEAPPLE HEAD? THIS DUE DILIGENCE. ME KNOW BIG WORD. St. Emily mumbles something about loyalty when Cal Naughton Jr. appears and rescues her from Ryan’s meaty clutches. Ryan shrugs it off. WE DEEP. HAVE DEEP CONNECTION. Austin Michael (!!!) then materializes from thin air and serves as an audience to Ryan’s pineapple-headed delusions of grandeur: ME MEANT FOR SOMETHING GREATER. ME ON PATH. ME NEXT BACHELOR! ME READY TO OPEN HEART. IT NEAT.

After telling Cal Naughton Jr. that she thinks about him when she’s alone (gross), St. Emily immediately goes and makes out, albeit awkwardly, with Dallas Sean. This (unfortunately) goes on for a while until Smug Chris takes St. Emily aside to whine at her that he IS TOO MATURE, no matter WHAT THOSE OTHER GUYS SAY. St. Emily is like, Uh, sure? Ok?

After leaving St. Emily, Smug Chris demands to speak to Doug the Dad RIGHT NOW. He is NOT GOING TO BACK DOWN. Doug the Dad is NOT GOING TO INTIMIDATE SMUG CHRIS. And WHY DOES DOUG THE DAD THINK HE’S SO PERFECT ANYWAY? Doug the Dad, he just laughs in Smug Chris’ face, because what else can you do?

And then Chris Harrison takes St. Emily to the Glamour Shot Alcove of Contemplation to grill her about her experience so far. St. Emily makes some whiny noises about not wanting to send anyone home, and Chris Harrison gives her a Very Stern Look. Demonstrating that she is not completely stupid, St. Emily says that she does know that Ryan is manipulative and terrible, and that she’s going to eliminate him tonight because OF COURSE SHE HAS TO, SHE’D BE INSANE NOT TO. And then she stares at the Glamor Shots REALLY HARD and thinks about quinoa.

Rose time!

Rose #1 Dallas Sean
Rose #2 Cal Naughton Jr.
Rose #3 Eggy
Rose #4 Smug Chris
Rose #5 Grandpa Simpson Head Ryan
Rose #6 Kalon Dru-Zod
Rose #7 Alejandro

Poor Head Injury Charlie! Poor Austin Mike! I guess! Who knows really. That dude didn’t say two words other than “guitar pick” the entire time he was here. But now he’s suddenly wandering around in the rain, crying, crying actual tears out of fear that he will never fall in love. Whatever, Austin Mike. I think you’re just crying because you missed SXSW to come hang out with this manherd. Head Injury Charlie also wanders around in the rain crying and mumbling about how much being eliminated sucks and suddenly this whole thing has turned into a terrible Backstreet Boys video and that is perfectly enough. Get out of the rain and get into the cabs, you are being ridiculous.

The Bachelorette airs Mondays at 7 p.m. on ABC, and requires copious amounts of red wine to get through.

This post originally appeared on Tubular, a blog on the Hearst site http://www.chron.com/.

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