Bachelorette Emily: “I Promise, It’ll Be Worth It.”

Okay, champ, this is it. The time has come. You got your rest and relaxation, you got your Monday nights to yourself for a few months, you got your chance to clear your head and get it on straight. But then again, there’s no time like the present to own up to the fact that this is the stupidest, most manipulative show ever, and flat-out refuse to have another goddamn thing to do with it.

 Wait a second. What are you thinking? This isn’t some damn third place Ashley who’s about to send 24 of 25 boys packing over the course of the next few weeks. This is EMILY MAYNARD, “the Southern single mom with heartbreak in her past,” as Chris “Useless” Harrison describes her. She’s been engaged twice*, and apart from a little girl named Ricki for whom Miss Maynard will try and find a caring father figure** from a group of strangers who think she’s even prettier than when they saw her on TV, she’s got nothing to show for it***. Are you gonna say ‘no’ when Emily Maynard needs you the most? You’re here for Emily, dammit, so take a deep breath – now exhale. Now, I want you to get out there, keep your head on a swivel and your dukes up. This is The Bachelorette, yet again.

Things we know: every season kicks off with a cocktail party, after which the Bachelor(ette) give away a tonne of roses to the strangers they’d like to live in this mansion with the other strangers while she decides who to keep around a little longer and who – not to. But before they can do that, the fellows need to arrive and have a big ol’ sausage party in this big ol’ mansion in the big ol’ state that just went to needless extremes to tell the gays just how they feel about them.

But for a lot of guys, the chance to make any sort of an impression on the Bachelorette has already been lost by the time they’re inside with a drink in their hand. Hence, the growing tendency towards steaming piles of schticky business being deployed immediately upon exiting the limos, like the offering up of a glass slipper, dressing up like an old woman and the carrying around of an ostrich egg. Kalon, a luxury brand consultant**** even goes so far as to arrive in a helicopter.

To be blunt, nothing interesting happens at the party. There’s a negligible amount of friction between Stevie the Party MC***** and Kalon******, while Doug, the single father/charity something or other/real estate something or other else gets the first impression rose, prompting some dude named Chris (but not Chris Harrison) to spout the first misguided suggestion of the season pertaining to something he deserves*******. But  otherwise, lots of guys stay – way too many to make much of an effort at identifying them – and a few guys go. Better luck some other time, some other place: Lerone (real estate dude), David (singer/songwriter who helped me remember Woody from Cheers’ song for Kelly), Jackson (fitness model), Randy (marketing manager, dresser upper like an old lady), Brent (technology salesman with six kids) and Jean-Paul (marine biologist). And if I forgot anyone, well, it’s hardly a surprise, right?

*Potential season-long drinking game suggestion number one. You drink whenever it’s mentioned that….

**Potential season-long drinking game suggestion number 2.

***Cursed. She’s cursed.

****No idea.

*****Party Stevie. Not that he’s likely to last long enough to warrant a nickname, but just in case…

******The Douchebag. Maybe he’ll last, maybe he won’t, but we’re definitely calling him The Douchebag.

*******Important ground rule: NOBODY DESERVES ANYTHING.

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