Bachelor Episode 7: Ahoy, Potential Matey!

It’s Episode 7 and Jake is getting down to making it all happen with the remaining three ladies: Tenley, Gia, and Vienna. There’s a lot at stake this episode and there’s a lot of bad editing to prove it. Let’s get to it.

We begin with the usual reminders about last week’s show when Ali faked like her job required her to return to San Francisco and left Jake to sob on the nearest banister despite not directly asking her to stick around. We leave the sunny beaches of California and head to the island of Saint Lucia in the Caribbean for some, well, sunny beaches. We get a lead in of the many adventures that the ladies will soon be experiencing with Jake. Jake tells us that St. Lucia is the perfect place to fall in love. Apparently, he forgot he said the same thing about San Francisco a few weeks ago. Ah yes, there’s nothing like a quaint Caribbean island that was once a stop over on the slave trade where thousands of men were stolen from their African homeland, stripped from their families, strapped into the hull of a ship, and transported thousands of miles across the ocean to be sold as chattel. Perfect. In spite of this we get a detailed recap from beginning to end of the “courtship” of each lady.

We begin with Gia and her propensity to greet Jake like a rabid monkey by flinging herself at him and wrapping her legs and arms around his manly man shape. We are reminded of the staged game of spin the bottle they played in the vineyard and we revisit the many looks of Jake. Yes, from tattling pilot, to motorcycle tough guy, to boat shoe wearing cruise ship director guy, all the way to the current coral choker necklace guy, we see all of the looks we’ve grown to love. I felt more like I was at Build-A-Bear Workshop rather than watching the Bachelor. Jake tells us that his “chemistry with Gia is electric” and that he is truly falling in love with her. Electric, huh? Ok.

By the way, was there a pilot in the Village People? If not, there should have been. Seeing Jake in his pilot uniform made me realize he would make a good Village Person. I suppose a pilot is a just as valid gay stereotype as a biker or a construction worker. Why was there in Indian in the Village People, though? Does anyone know any gay Indians—I mean beside that guy in the Village People? What was his name, Dances with Cher? Totem Pole? Get it? Alright, enough of that. Back to the show.

Next, we have to hear about Tenley’s divorce again, which is odd because I wasn’t aware she was divorced. I must have missed it the first five thousand times she mentioned it this season. Of course, that number is a rough estimate. It’s probably much higher than that. Tenley re-asserts her angelic, disease-free status and takes a few moments to bash her awful cheating ex-husband again. No wonder that guy is selling his story. You can only kick a dog so many times before it bites back, Tenley. Seriously, we get it. He cheated. Move on and lay off already. Perhaps an interpretive dance illustrating the raw emotion and heartbreak associated with the divorce would provide some healing. Do us a favor and do that off camera, would you? Jake tells us that he and Tenley want the same things out of a marriage. He doesn’t list any of them but we know that they share an unabashed love of the box step. Oh, and he’s truly falling in love with her too.

Next, we move to Vienna. Is there any doubt she’s going to be the one he picks? Jake tells us that even though she’s been the “center of all of the drama” in the house that their “connection is undeniable.” Even though she’s “a little immature” they can work on maturity together. Right. Look, if this guy wants to put his starter home and gazebo at risk by marrying a 23 year old Hooters waitress with a bitter, broke ex-husband and an unhealthy attraction to her own father, so be it. It’s not like he wasn’t warned. Ali practically set herself on fire trying to tell him that Vienna is trashy. He’ll be wiping eye shadow and tanning cream off the Formica counter tops of his single vanity bathroom and pulling bleach blonde, straightening iron-damaged hair from the shower drain in his starter home in Denton until she meets some rich guy in Dallas and splits. To be fair, her degree in Interpersonal Organizational whatever has to be a difficult perk to walk away from, though. He’s also falling in love with her too. Good luck, Jake.

Oh, and by the way, I nailed Vienna’s Hooters waitress status in my first episode blog. I’m not sure if the fact that I can pick a Hooters waitress out of a crowd of 25 women is a good thing or if it’s pathetic. What matters is that I was right. After all, life is about the small victories, isn’t it?

After the initial set up, we cut to a contemplative Jake wading in the ocean in board shorts and a green t-shirt skipping rocks off of the ocean’s surface and wondering about Ali. Miraculously, just as he’s wondering about Ali, she and the camera crew she brought home with her to San Francisco are waking up. Apparently, Ali sleeps in a monogrammed robe and has a stack of 8x10 glossy pictures of Jake on her nightstand. That actually sounds like something Michelle would do, but whatever. Ali does her best “I’m trying out for the Bachelorette” walk, brood, walk, brood move and tells us that she’s made the mistake of her life by leaving the show. Apparently, her job selling ad space for Facebook was not the answer to everything. Go figure. Incidentally, it looked to me like she had plenty of time to brood in the shadows of various San Francisco landmarks. So much for the demands of the office.

We finally get to the first of the three dates and we see that Gia gets the dreaded first date. Getting the first of the three fantasy dates is like being the fat, injured guy in the Donner Party. The end is inevitable, which is a shame considering the fact that I actually started to like Gia despite her fiberglass face and speech impediment. Sure, she’s a bit shallow and high maintenance, but that doesn’t make her a bad person. I felt like sobbing on a banister.

Jake sports his giant new orange sports watch with gray shorts and a t-shirt. For some reason he’s brought a backpack on the date as well. Gia shows up with a striped, oversized, off-the-shoulder sweater thing she stole from the fat, injured guy in the Donner Party paired nicely with a pair of Daisy Dukes. She “surprises” Jake on Pigeon Island, finally remembers to bring a scrunchy, and off they go to Gross Islet in a speedboat to slum it out among the marijuana and rum soaked locals vying for a few bucks of Jake’s hard-earned cargo pilot money. Jake tells us that “Gia and I’s” relationship is growing. What? Didn’t we go through this with Vienna a few weeks ago? “I” is not a possessive pronoun. He apparently forgot the existence of the word “our” when forming that thought. I’m not sure I trust this guy to fly whoopi cushions and Snuggies from one place to another anymore.

Jake lets us know that he wants to see Gia and her $1,000 shoes among “people who try and make an honest living.” Since when do local Caribbean homeless people make an honest living? The last time I checked modeling in New York was an honest living. It just happens to pay better than attempting to bilk tourists out of their money by selling them trinkets and St. Lucia flags at inflated prices or playing tunes on an overturned plastic bucket and then hounding unsuspecting foreigners until they relent by coughing up their money. Besides, Jake lives in Denton. When was the last time he actually saw a minority much less interacted with one?

Gia is happy because “all the natives are hanging out.” Couldn’t she have gone with “locals” or “residents”? It’s not like she’s going to be tied up and placed in a giant pot of boiling water in the center of the tribe and eaten when the bongos stop. She really needs to go north of 125th Street more often. Jake gets ripped off and buys Gia a trinket necklace from one of the honest natives and for some reason Gia puts it on her wrist. Frankly, the entire thing felt staged. Oh wait, it was.

Gia and Jake go to Smuggler’s Cove with their little remaining money in search of dinner and ridiculously repetitive conversation. They find both. Gia’s deep. Jake’s deep. Gia looks great. Jake looks great. The most interesting thing was the bedazzled hair thing Gia was wearing coupled with a stunning sparkly short dress. Jake tells us that he puts everyone before himself (Please) and that her dream is his dream and his dream is her dream. It was good that he dropped that line when he did because it was time for Gia to purge dinner anyway. Presumably, she thanked him for the assist. In perhaps the most vague and meaningless statement ever uttered by, well, anyone, Gia tells Jake that, “it amazes me that you know how you feel about certain things.” Well said, Gia. Well said. She tells Jake that she’s never met guy as deep as him. Considering the fact that she’s from New York and that the dating pool consists of guys like Pauly D and The Situation from Jersey Shore, I actually believed her. By the way, seeing Gia I couldn’t help but think, “what in the hell is SHE going to do in Denton, Texas?” Can you imagine?

After dinner the Fantasy Suite card from Chris Harrison magically appears. Harrison, who much to my chagrin has yet to make an appearance, invites the lovely couple to spend the night together. Jake acts surprised and does a good job at hiding his fear of sexual contact with a woman. Gia lets us know that “she’s ready to go all the way” and off we go to the fantasy suite where Jake and Gia haphazardly shed all of their clothes before carefully double knotting their bathing suits and gently settling into a bubble bath for some make out shots. Gia looked stunning in her black bikini with pearl straps around her neck. The suit was fitting considering the fact that Jake was not about to give her a pearl necklace. You know, because he already bought her a necklace that day. In the end we are left with the sinking feeling that Jake opted out of a roll in the hay with Gia. What a waste of a Fantasy Suite.

We next go to Rodney Bay where Jake waits anxiously by a helicopter with his giant orange watch on his right wrist. In an instant, Tenley’s parents pull up in the SUV to drop her off and the giant orange watch is on his left wrist. Huh? It was like that shot of Lee Harvey Oswald holding a single action Italian rifle in his backyard where the negative was mysteriously turned backward in order to create the illusion that was holding the rifle in the opposite hand. Tenley arrives in her usual green tanktop and denim shorts looking semi-virginal and divorced and promises her dad that there will be no making out before exiting the SUV and meeting Jake. They hug and Jake lets Tenley know that they are going on a helicopter ride despite the presence of a giant helicopter ten feet in front of them. Tenley makes a mental note to perform an interpretive dance about the flight and off they go.

Jake and Tenley arrive at the Swiss Family Robinson treehouse and proceed to share feelings over a lovely picnic in front of the sugar cane processing plant built by slave labor and abandoned long ago in hopes it would never be seen again. So much for that idea. They might as well have gone to Poland and picnicked on the Auschwitz front lawn.

Jake impresses Tenley with talk of spontaneous free vacations to the Cayman Islands because of his job as a pilot. He failed to mention that she would have to ride in the cargo hold of his plane in a crate with a bottle of oxygen, a jug of water, and a milk jug full of urine in order to get there. Who needs details when love is in the air? Tenley buys his bulls*it and they smooch uncomfortably. Jake and his orange sports watch take Tenley to the beach for some gratuitous bikini shots and some From Here to Eternity make out shots in the surf. Jake does his best Burt Lancaster in board shorts impression and Tenley takes a shot at her Deborah Kerr in a much smaller bikini impression.

Tenley and Jake wash the sand out of their rear ends and gussy up for an evening at Le Sport. Tenley looks lovely in her royal blue summer dress with a red and white strip at the bottom. Jake lets us know that he can “be himself” around Tenley. Predictably, they discuss—what else—her damn divorce. Tenley shows Jake the scarlet letter “A” on her chest and Jake tells us that she makes his heart smile. Good Lord. Jake kicks off his two left footed flip flops because he’s ready to take the box step to the next level. They “dance” to no music for what seemed like an eternity. I really wanted Chicago or Jeffery Osborne to show up, but that didn’t happen. Maybe they were booked. Tenley drops a “you can eat my salmon” line telling Jake “you can dip me forever.” Hey now, I thought she wasn’t that kind of girl. To hell with the bossa nova. Blame it on the box step.

After the dancing, Tenley ices her stepped on toes and reads the Fantasy Suite card from Harrison. She immediately ditches her virginal tendencies and agrees to a night in the suite with Jake. Well, to be fair to Tenley, there was no real risk of sex, but I did find myself yelling at the TV like the audience in a Shaft movie for Jake to close the deal. I realize that’s like yelling at the Cubs to win a World Series, but whatever. Jake tells us he loves Tenley’s values, morals, and temperament. Temperament? Tenley confesses to once having had cooties and they make out a lot. At that point, it was time for me to purge.

Next we go back to Rodney Bay (didn’t he play for the Lakers?) for the big date with Vienna. Jake shows up in red board shorts, a brown t-shirt (presumably the third one in the Fruit of the Loom colored undershirt packet he purchased for his three dates), flip flops, and his giant orange sports watch. He’s ready to see Vienna’s “fun, light, and immature” side. Vienna shows up in orange short shorts and a tank top with an owl on it over that same green bathing suit with the hide the junk in my trunk ruffles she wore in the hot tub in L.A. I suppose she was still hoping for a pearl necklace. You know, because Jake hadn’t bought her one yet. Jake and Vienna board the Unicorn pirate ship and Jake proceeds to make an ass of himself by wearing an eye patch and carrying a rubber sword while spouting pirate metaphors at Vienna. He looked like the Flying Doucheman. It was painful to watch and I’m going to just gloss over it. There’s some face licking, some groping of Vienna’s bow and stern, and a new instrumental version of “On the Wings of Love.” Perhaps I purged too early.

Jake and Vienna climb to the top of his mast and we get some incredibly shameless shots of Vienna’s crows nest. Keeping the phallic symbols alive, Jake shoots his cannon while Vienna giggles wildly and we get a voice over of her best valley girl voice telling us how much she loves life. Jake finds her nurturing. Hmmm, I found her to be a selfish brat, but then again, I wasn’t actually there. I take comfort in knowing that if she and Jake don’t work out, she always has the security of returning to Florida to work at Hooters or in the meth lab her parents run out of the swamp they live in.

Jake sends Vienna out on his plank and then tells us he needs to make sure that their relationship is more than sexual because she’s “pretty smokin’ hot.” We all begin to wonder if the Denton Hooters accepts transfers and offers a relocation package. Jake and Vienna towel off and get ready for dinner. They “wow you look great” each other and Vienna is excited about “Jake and I’s relationship.” Again, with that? I suppose their wedding invite will say something like “Come watch us celebrate Jake and I’s Marriage”. Perfect. Vienna stuffs her face with salad and tells Jake she’d like to run off forever with him. Wait, didn’t she try that already before emptying the guy’s bank account for some free boobs before filing for divorce five months later? Again, who needs details when love is in the air?

Jake asks Vienna what type of engagement ring she’d like and she suppresses the desire to say “a big one,” opting for “princess cut and a thin band.” Subtle move, Jake. I wonder how big a diamond he can get on three months’ cargo pilot salary? Perhaps he can build some backyard gazebos for some extra cash. The Fantasy Suite card comes and Vienna reads it . . . slowly and poorly. Of course, Vienna opts for the fantasy suite, dons a white teddy thing with a black g-string underneath (clearly a faux paux), and undoubtedly sluts it up in an attempt to seal the deal. Those French kissing lessons her dad gave her probably began to pay off. I’m sure Jake slept in his t-shirt and tighty whiteys just to make sure his dirty thoughts didn’t overcome him.

We see Jake in his hotel room after he rinsed off all of the Vienna looking in the mirror and moisturizing. The phone rings and Jake immediately puts on his giant orange watch.

Note to the producers: the orange watch messed up all of your editing this week. It might as well have been a live flare. If you’re going to splice all of the “spontaneous” moments together at least go with a more understated piece of jewelry.

Of course, Ali and her oversized bottom lip are on the phone. She wants to come back, made a mistake, loves Jake, hates her job, blah, blah, blah. Jake gets confused again, tells her he’s forgotten about her, lies about trying to process things, and fulfils his contractual obligation to the show by setting Ali up to be the next Bachelorette. Bad choice, by the way. She’s cranky and pouty. They need someone perky and fun like Jillian. Ali begs and pleads some more, drops to the floor near her cherry cabinets and stainless steel appliances and begins to accept (ironically) the reality of the situation. Jake broods out of his window and does some peeping into the rooms across the way.

Ali will eventually realize that she doesn’t have to live in Denton and she gets to travel the world while 25 overly macho, attention seeking, twenty-somethings fawn over her for another eight shows. That’s what they call in the advertising business a win-win situation. Perhaps if she showed up at work more often, she would know that. Good luck, Ali. We look forward to your invite to be the next Bachelorette next week on the Women Tell All Show.

Jake suits up for the rose ceremony and we all know that Gia and her lips are headed for the St. Lucia airport. Harrison shows up looking better than Jake in his understated, yet carefully tailored black suit and pink oxford shirt a la Danny Zuco at the prom with Sandy. He takes Jake to the temporarily relocated Lair of Seclusion for some what ifs and a recap of the dates. Clearly, Harrison is just punching his ticket this season. He’s got nothing to work with when it comes to Jake. He liked Jillian and Jason and that was obvious in his interaction with both of them. You can see the disdain for Jake lurking just behind Harrison’s eyes. Regardless, Harrison is a consummate professional and has clearly been briefed on all the goings on over the week. I’m sure his intern gave him his talking points over a rum runner and a big fatty at the local St. Lucia strip club. Harrison dials up the pressure, states the obvious, and heads for the rose ceremony.

Jake is confused. . . again. Frankly, he’s confused more than Tenley is divorced. How annoying. Jake views the girls’ video messages, which are predictable and boring. Tenley is giggly. She arrives in a black dress with a yellow flower in her hair. She looked great. Gia, who apparently partook in the smoking of the weed with Harrison before filming her video, arrives wearing a blue silky dress and a strategically placed scrunchy. She looked hot. Vienna tells us in her video that she wants to be with Jake for “the next 80 years.” Assuming Jake’s life span is 112 years that will be possible. Idiot. She arrives in a full length red silky no-so-flattering dress with crimped hair and a sh*tload of make up on. She honestly looked trashy.

Harrison sets up the two roses, helps the girls subtract one from three and retires to his penthouse suite to finish his stash. Jake wants to marry all three women and apparently doesn’t realize that he could just move to Utah and do that. Gia looks pouty and modelly as she gets stiff armed out of a rose. Jake pulls her aside and she fulfils her contractual obligation while sweating like a fat kid on a playground. We imagine that her brother Erick is polishing his brass knuckles and booking his flight to Los Angeles. Gia boards the pimped out SUV, cries enough to prove that her reconstructed tear ducts and nostrils still work but not enough to make a fool out of herself.

So there it is. With the Amazing count at 100, Absolutely at 22, and at Journey 27, Tenley and Vienna remain as the two potential Mrs. Denton Housewives and we move toward the big finale. Next week is the Women Tell All, which should prove interesting. We’ll see Harrison earn his paycheck and we’ll see how bitter Michelle and Rozlyn are. In the meantime, I’ll be swabbing my deck. DP