Bachelor in Paradise
September 5, 2016
Finally, amigos. Finally. It’s time to fumigate the Palapa de Rejection for Zika and social diseases, and so our rejects must pair up and vete. And not a moment too soon for my liver and my sense of dignity.
As we enter the long hard final slog of Bachelor in Paradise, some joker on the production staff decided to throw one last lady reject into the mix, just to see what would happen.
Which is how poor Tiara, the “chicken enthusiast” from Bachelor Ben’s season, or “Chicken Lady” as I obviously called her, found herself surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, sunburnt, exhausted and alcohol-poisoned Bachelor rejects, hopeful she would find “love.”
Instead, Wesley Snipes sits her down on one of the beach beds and is like, “Look, it’s not going to happen. Yes, I see you’ve got a date card, and that’s cute, but it’s not going to happen. Why don’t you just give me that date card that I will use with someone else, go see if Jorge can find you a plate of chicken wings and work on your tan. OK, gracias.”
And it works! Wesley Snipes yoinks Chicken Lady’s date card, and takes Flipper out on the final date in “Paradise” that doesn’t involve contraception and copious amounts of brain bleach for your trusty blogger.
They go to a carnival. It’s super aburrido. At one point una fortune-teller warns Flipper that Wesley is just not that into her, and Flipper is all, “Noted. I will go get measured for my wedding dress as soon as I get home.” For his part, Wesley Snipes says that he’s looking for “the one, and it would be amazing if it were Flipper.” But it won’t be. But it would have been amazing! Except it won’t be.
Back in “Paradise,” Lauren #87 takes The Lamp Guy aside and is like, “I know I barely know you and I know this is the last week here and I know there’s some weird expectation that people are supposed to get engaged in a few days, but I’d really really really really like your rose tomorrow.” The Lamp Guy shrugs and is like, “I mean, it’s not like I’m marrying any of you people and everything that is happening from here on out is completely meaningless, so why not.”
The Lamp Guy, fancying himself a nice guy, takes Onesie aside to break the news to her that he will not be giving her his rose the next night — doing so, remarkably, without once making eye contact with her. Onesie, who is an idiot, begins to see the error of her ways, and finally regrets dumping Toasted for this bearded cipher.
She packs her things and drags them across the sand because there is no other way out of “Paradise” but through the surf, I suppose, while Boner and the others yell encouragingly at her to “GO GET YOUR TOASTED!”
And as soon as she is inside the Vaya Con Dios van and reunited with her cell phone, she calls Toasted, and is all, “Heeeeeeeey, That Lamp Guy dumped me, so I’m available again! I’ll be on the first plane to Florida to come see you.” But Toasted is like, “No thank you please,” before unceremoniously hanging up on her.
Before driving out of our lives forever, Onesie, sobbing and nauseous, calls herself the “shittiest person in the world,” which is unfair on a show that counts The Chad amongst its cast.
The next night is the final rose ceremony that isn’t The Final Rose Ceremony: Get Engaged or GET OUT.
The men rejects are passing out the roses, but the only man reject who really has much of a choice is All-4-Wells, between Khaste Kardashian, Canadian Bacon and Natasha. Canadian Bacon and Khaste know what’s up and each take him aside to laugh insincerely at his jokes and shove their tongues down his throat. But Natasha decides that she shouldn’t have to prove her годность to anyone, and storms out of the Palapa de Rejection to go pack her чемодан. All-4-Wells halfheartedly tries to convince her to stay, but the truth is: 1. he doesn’t care; 2. he’s not going to propose to whomever he chooses and 3. if she leaves, it makes his life that much easier in the short run. Bye, Фелиция.
And with that, the last rose ceremony can proceed:
Sweaty McMoansalot offers Token Single Mom his rose.
Wesley Snipes offers Flipper his rose.
Fireman Grant offers The Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started a Conversation With at a Party his rose.
Boner offers Carly his rose.
The Lamp Guy announces that he has NO IDEA what he’s even doing here, he doesn’t even remember getting on a plane and going to Mexico, honestly, and now that shit is getting real, he’d like to take his rose and go home now, por favor.
All-4-Wells offers his rose to Khaste Kardashian.
Which means we say adios to Canadian Bacon, Lauren #87 and The Chicken Lady, who are packed up into the Vaya Con Dios vans, never to be thought of ever again.
The next morning, Chris Harrison gathers the survivors in el Palapa de Rejection to explain what comes next. And what comes next is Very Serious Business. First each couple will go on a date. Then they will be herded into a hotel suite where they are expected to make the sex. Then the men will meet with the endlessly suffering Neil Lane and consider whether or not they could pretend to be engaged to this stranger they’ve been making out with for the past few weeks. Finally, they will have to go out on the Proposal Platform one-by-one and declare their intentions to either break up or pretend to be engaged for a minimum 6- to 9-week period and at least one People Magazine profile.
This, All-4-Wells reasonably decides, is a bit too much for a relationship that is one date old, especially and particularly because Khaste is a 26-year-old virgin. All-4-Wells takes Khaste aside and explains that this is not a thing that is going to be happening between them. They are not going on the date, he is not taking her virginity and they are certainly not getting engaged. Khaste takes this as well as can be expected, which is to say she cries — of course she cries — but she doesn’t try to drown herself in the Pacific Ocean or sacrifice herself to the murder parrot, so she’ll be fine.
The next day, everyone goes on their respective dates:
Wesley Snipes and Flipper go paddle boarding, which Flipper tries to turn into a strained metaphor for falling in love.
Boner and Carly strip to their underwear, smear paint on their bodies and roll around on sheets with some loca topless lady.
Sweaty McMoansalot and Single Mom play soccer with a group of disinterested local chicos and talk about how Single Mom has kids.
But Fireman Grant and The Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started a Conversation With at a Party ARE TAKING THIS SHIT SERIOUSLY, and proceed to get matching “Grace” tattoos on their wrists; “Grace” being their dum-dum couple nickname. And all I can think about is my on-again/off-again boyfriend with whom I was on-again/off-again for a solid 10 years. The last time we were on-again, he decided — completely soberly! — that he wanted to get my name tattooed on himself. I told him this was a supremely stupid thing to do, but I went to the tattoo parlor with him anyway where the tattoo artist flatly refused to ink him unless we were married. Now that I’ve been happily married for 17 years to another man, I think fondly from time to time about that tattoo artist, and his unexpected voice of reason, and I suspect and hope my ex does, too. The point is, don’t get tattoos in honor of someone you’ve known for a month, even if the tattoo artist tells you that he married his wife after knowing her for all of 12 days. I hear lasering that crap off of you hurts like a mofo.
That night each couple is sent to their hotel rooms to sit in front of a plate of food that they are not to eat, tell one another they love them if they have not done so already, and “discuss their future together.”
September 6, 2016
The next morning, everyone is rolling around in their hotel beds in post-sexytime bliss — save for Fireman Grant and The Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started a Conversation With at a Party. For reasons that are unclear, they had a rough night and Fireman Grant tells The Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started a Conversation With at a Party that there’s a chance he might not propose to her that afternoon, because he might need “more time.” “THEN WHY DID WE GET TATTOOS?” The Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started a Conversation With at a Party reasonably demands to know. You should have gone to my ex-boyfriend’s tattoo artist to not get tattooed, The Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started a Conversation With at a Party. He would have set that nonsense straight.
After returning to “Paradise,” one-by-one the men each go look thoughtfully at a selection of diamond rings while Neil Lane sits nearby and feigns interest. A lot of monologuing happens; nothing is actually said.
Finally, the proposals.
First is Carly and Boner, whose proposal is literally — LITERALLY! — “Will you freaking marry me?”
Oh hell no.
But for some reason Carly accepts, and they exchange final roses and now she’s going to marry someone 1. she once implied was gay, 2. threw up after kissing and 3. said “killed [her] ladyboner.” Happy life, you two!
Next is Fireman Grant and The Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started a Conversation With at a Party, and despite some manufactured drama back at the hotel earlier that morning, Fireman Grant proposes and The Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started a Conversation With at a Party accepts because why not. The state of being engaged is considerably less permanent than a tattoo.
Thanks to last week’s Bachelor announcement, our least suspenseful couple are next: Wesley Snipes and Flipper.
“Coming into this my eyes went straight to you and I’m glad you accepted my date because the chemistry was instant and intense…” Flipper begins.
“I knew I found something special and you’ve proven me right since that day,” she continues.
“The fact you’re still here and have let down your walls at all makes me feel you see potential in us,” Flipper goes on.
“I’ve fallen in love with you. And I want to get to need to fall if you’re willing to catch me (???)” Flipper concludes, somewhat incoherently.
It is at this point that Wesley Snipes stops her and sobbing, explains that he can’t marry her because he has to go be The Bachelor, SORRY NOT SORRY.
And, listen, Flipper, honestly it’s for the best, pobrecita. No one should get engaged while wearing a sports bra.
Finally, Sweaty McMoansalot proposes to Token Single Mom but not before completely sweating through his shirt to the point that when he picks her up and carries her off to his cave, it makes me want to take a shower, it’s so gross. SO GROSS. GROSS GROSS GROSS.
I mean, congratulations! HAW HAW! (Gross.)
As for the other rejects — or at least the more interesting ones:
“Dooficer is still single, eh.”
“The Twins are still looking for love but they’ll always have each other.”
“Khaste Kardashian is almost ready to give upon Cousin Max.”
“The Fatalist and Cousin Max decided to just be friends.”*
“Toasted now feels just fine.”
“Ladies and gentleman, your next Bachelor … will never be this guy. ”
Pack up the murder parrots, put the drunken raccoon to bed, we are done with another season of Bachelor in Paradise. And more importantly, I’m done with anything Bachelor related for FOUR FULL MONTHS, Praise Jorge. Bachelor in Paradise will, however, be back next summer, in another race to the death between my liver, sanity and sense of decorum. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go enjoy my remaining Wesley Snipes and rage-free days with a big glass of box wine and a long lie down.
|YOUR GUIDE TO THE STUPID NICKNAMES|
|Amanda||Token Single Mom|
|Brett||The Lamp Guy|
|Lace||The Girl You Wish You Hadn’t Started a Conversation With at a Party|
|Tiara||The Chicken Lady|
*Note: The Fatalist and Cousin Max are not actually interesting.
Bachelor in Paradise will return next summer whether Jorge or I want it to or not.