Ali Bachelorette Episode 6: The Turkey Leaves Turkey

Hello again. Here we are mid-season with the drama heating up. Before I get to the big show, I have a couple of housekeeping items. Obviously, the big breakup of The D-Bag from Denton and the Lazy-Eyed Lassie from North of Tallahassee has been the focus of the free world this week. Oil spill, shmoil spill. Not surprisingly, I have some thoughts on that tragedy (the breakup, not the oil spill); however, in light of the “special” interview next week where they both fulfill their contractual obligations to “confront” each other while Harrison moderates with a smug look in his face, I’ll save those until it airs. Second, I’d like to give a Some Guy from Austin shout out to my favorite lingerie shop in Arlington, Virginia. Thanks for hosting the blog reading party and thank you for the nice emails. I’m sure you’re all a bunch of lovely broads and I appreciate you thinking of me while you soak yourselves in chardonnay amongst rows of lacy unmentionables while reading my blog aloud. Now, let’s get to it.

We begin this week with a reminder that Ali and the boys are traveling from Iceland to Istanbul, Turkey via a layover in Paris. Iceland and Istanbul? What’s next, Israel, India, Iran, Iraq, Italy, Ireland, Indonesia, Iowa, and Indiana? Feel free to insert your own “I” destination if I missed it.

As is her custom upon arriving in any foreign country, Ali wanders aimlessly through the streets and feeds us facts about the location provided to her by location scouts. Wearing her gray short short coat and a long gray cover-her-rear-end sweater, Ali and her knee boots tell us that she’s thrilled to be searching for love in Istanbul. She uses colorful, multi-syllabic adjectives to describe the city and actually avoids the word “so” for the entirety of her description. Perhaps the editors read my blog.

We cut to a shot of the men exiting the bus in front of this week’s hotel sponsor, the Istanbul Hyatt, as we picture Kasey sitting at home in Clovis, California in front of the TV with a dinner tray in front of him watching the show as he prepares to eat his neighbor’s liver with a side of fava beans and a nice Chianti. All of the boys looked travel weary. Well, except for Roberto who looked muy fantastico. Harrison stands waiting at the doorstep and we realize that something is amiss. Harrison is in no mood to F around with date cards and rules this week. His gray courdoroy blazer, red v-neck sweater, and white undershirt scream business and we know that Harrison is about to earn his paycheck. Craig R. and his child-sized hat begin the first of many whines. Uninterested, Harrison splits for the hotel bar for a couple pops before heading up to Ali’s room to drop the hammer.

We cut to Ali primping in the mirror as the men wooo hooo the Man Suite and she tells us that she’s going to separate the friends from the husbands this week. “I don’t think anything could go wrong at this point,” she naively muses as she dabs a tad of Eau de the Sh*t’s About to Hit the Fan on her wrists. We simultaneously hear the unmistakable “I have news that’s bad for you but good for the ratings” knock of Chris Harrison. Ali answers the door and Harrison dispenses with the pleasantries. He’s all business this week, damnit. After his pee or get off the toilet conversation with Ali last week, Harrison is in no mood for small talk. He tells Ali that former Jake reject, Jessie, has some information for her. Harrison dials the phone and we hear it ring 5 times as Ali sweats it out waiting for the news. We assume that Jessie was telling all of her girlfriends to be quiet before she picked up the phone and put Harrison on speaker. She picks up and is greeted with the words that every woman wants to hear, “Hey, it’s Chris Harrison.” Miraculously, Jessie has a camera crew in her hoose in Toronto. Harrison hands Ali the phone and then does his best Abe Lincoln Memorial pose while he sits patiently waiting for the ratings to go up.

Jessie drops some “right reasons” talk and rats out Justin for having a girlfriend before handing the phone to Justin’s girlfriend and setting her oven timer for 15 minutes in order to keep track of her fame. We get a shot of Jessica who looked a lot like a poor man’s Marissa Tomei and she confesses to letting Justin go on the show for his career so he could find success in the fake wrestling ring before marrying her. “I didn’t want to do this,” Jessica sobs—yea, well you just did. Apparently, Justin cheated with some other bimbo and was sneaking around to make calls to Jessica in violation of the loosely-enforced Bachelorette rules forcing the formerly complicit but now scorned Jessica to track down last season’s tattle tale in an effort to fix things and enter herself as the dark horse contestant for next season’s Bachelorette.

I’m sooo soorreeee, she says, which means “I’m sufficiently regretful” in American. An emotionless Ali listens patiently as Harrison prepares to be sensitive. Ali hangs up with Jessica and we envision Jessica and Jessie retiring to the living room to split a bottle of sauvignon blanc and put together a mix tape of Patty Griffin and Nora Jones songs that they believe apply to this situation.

Harrison drops a “sorry” and sits back to listen to Ali rehash the “giving everything up to be here” theme of the season. I found it ironic that she was wearing cheetah print shoes considering the fact that she’d just found out that Justin was, in fact, a cheetah. Get it? I’ll be here all week, folks. Tip your waitstaff.

As she was talking to Harrison like he was Oprah, I couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t care. I was waiting for the “this is EXACTLY what my dad did to my mom” line to pop out confirming her daddy issues. I suppose that was edited out. With a little prodding from Harrison and presumably from the producers, Ali decides to confront Justin in the Man Suite. Harrison throws turpentine on the fire while simultaneously earning product placement revenue from Apple by busting out an iPhone picture of Justin and Jessie piggy backing at the beach. Ali heads out to lay the smackdown on Justin’s candy ass.

They march down the hall as Harrison tells her, “be strong and let him have it.” “Let’s do this,” he says as Ali attempts to recreate the “I have news that’s bad for you but good for the ratings” knock patented by Harrison. Craig R. and his Dumb and Dumber haircut answer the door in his mint green, super feminine v-neck and we realize that he’s the perfect person for the job. Justin appears to know that something is rotten in Istanbul as Roberto chooses the perfect spot next to Ali in anticipation of a comfort opportunity.

Ali calls Justin on his Istanbulls*it and begins to bust Justin’s balls as we get a peek into the window of what the poor bastard who ends up with Ali will have to endure every time he forgets milk on the way home from work. Sick of hearing it and realizing that he’s about to be Wes Haydened, Justin grabs his wallet and passport and in a moment of Bachelorette gold drops a “F*ck You. Straight Up,” on Harrison as he leaves. Impervious, Harrison sits back to watch events unfold. Mission accomplished. It’s time to film the fallout.

Craig R. changes into a more serious, but equally feminine black hoodie and takes comfort that his BS detector still works. Ali disrupts the serenity of the Istanbul Hilton by following a fleeing Justin around and loudly questioning his manhood as the men watch from the Man Suite. Justin inexplicably tramples through flower beds in an attempt to avoid the camera and Chris L. quickly grabs a pen and a cocktail napkin in order to prepare a re-mulching estimate.

Ali and Harrison reflect by the fountain as the Producers track Justin down and remind him of his contractual obligations. “Uh, line two of paragraph four says you owe us five million bucks if you don’t go back.” Harrison splits as Justin returns in an effort to talk aboot it and straighten it oot. Ali talks over him, rubs his face in it, rehashes the gave up everything theme, actually gives him the Kasey was better than you speech, and questions his manhood again. Sick of the berating and realizing that she’s been instructed to humiliate him, Justin leaves in order to wander various hotel lobbies and the streets of Istanbul like Kane from Kung Fu as we hear the loving voice mails he left Jessica in violation of the Bachelorette rules. It’s nice to see that the Producers learned from the Wes Hayden and Roz Papa situations. Pictures, voice mails, and a camera on the girlfriend pretty much destroyed any deniability Justin had. Case closed.

Back in the room, Kirk is “shocked”, Craig R. gloats then whines, Ty and his bootie socks say something, and Roberto sits there being sensitive. The date card arrives and Ty is invited to get steamy with Ali. Craig R. whines some more and Frank twitches nervously. Ali changes earrings and loses the tiny coat in favor of a tiny vest and heads out for a contemplative walk. She pretends that “supposobly” is a word.

Proving that combs and hair gel are not allowed in Turkey, Ty shows up with a choker bigger than the giant one he’s been wearing all season. Ali and Ty go sight seeing and bazaar shopping and we see that Ty’s giant choker also came with matching wristbands. Ty and Ali meander through the streets until coming up to a building that “is like 300 years old.” Ty and Ali put on table cloths and wooden shoes and we see that Ali’s cheetah shoes gave her blisters because she forgot to remove the band-aids on her heels. They enter some weird planetarium looking bathhouse and Ali tells us that she feels “empowered by people bathing here for like 300 years,” and that she’s excited because women are not typically allowed into bathhouses.

Uh Ali, do you know why women are not allowed in bathhouses? Because they are not needed in bathhouses. Also, bathing is typically not the first thing that men go to a bathhouse to do. Hell, I half expected to see Elton John and Anderson Cooper in there. Also, a 300 year old bathhouse? I can only imagine what 300 years of anonymous gay sex smells like. Nice date. Oblivious, Ali and Ty carry on. Ty thanks her 50 times and they rub what we hope is mayonnaise on each other as they sit in the same spot for hours. We picture the fat camera guy sweating profusely while trying to keep his lens clear.

Back at the house, Clark Kent Frank and his Bermuda shorts and yellow oxford talk to Chris L. and his Charlie Brown Yellow t-shirt. Frank looked like he just got done playing shuffleboard on a cruise ship. Roberto sits there being sensitive. Craig R. whines about wanting a 1 on 1 date in every piece of clothing in his suitcase. Can you imagine how much whining he did in order for the edit to contain a snippet of him whining in 4 different outfits? Brutal. “Love Conquers Olive” the less-than-creative date card reads and we learn that Chris L., Roberto, Kirk, and Craig R. get the group date. Craig R. whines some more.

Back at the bathhouse Ali and Ty continue to rub each and eventually kiss to porno music and background noises and every Turkish homosexual wonders why the bathhouse is closed. Ty thanks Ali again and they share a disgusting, sweaty hug. You know I used to have a cranky old Jewish woman named Mrs. Sperber who lived down the street from me when I was a kid. She used to put mayonnaise in her hair to make it silky smooth. I found that odd. Annnyyyyhoooo.

Ali and Ty clean up and go to dinner. Ty over does it with an awful toast and we could almost hear the “are you kidding me” ring around in Ali’s head as she humored him, ready to pounce on him with tell me about your divorce questions. Ty kisses her big ass for a bit and eventually fishes for reciprocity. Ali giggles her way through the awkwardness and we wonder if Ty will reveal that he once suffered from mold sickness.

Ali proves she knows nothing about marriage by asking, “was there like a incident that happened one day or was it like building?” Ty does his best to put a positive spin on his divorce but clumsily reveals that he got divorced because his old lady wanted to work and he preferred that she watch the cave while he hunted for food. Ali was clearly unimpressed and pretends that she works for a living. Tie backpedals saying that he respects the fact that Ali is a career woman. Dude, she’s UNEMPLOYED. Ty is certain that Ali will be “suh-cess-ful” in whatever she does.

“Concerned” by the fact that Ty is actually—albeit cheesy--a nice respectful person who wants to provide for his wife and family, she gives him a rose anyway as we get another piece of the Why Ali’s Not Married puzzle snapped into place. Ali and Ty meet some Turkish guys on the square and dance horribly as the men play weird instruments. When are they going to get a guy who can actually lead a woman around the dance floor on this show? Knowing how to dance is like having a puppy or a trust fund. Women love it. I suppose Roberto has his salsa. Perhaps he’ll get an opportunity to set the flamenco afire in Portugal next week. We’ll see.

We head unmercifully into the group date as the guys do the Laverne and Shirley walk through town again in search of Ali. Kirk, apparently returning from a Cricket match, sports his argyle sweater under a jacket that the Weatherman left behind. Chris L. demonstrates his goofy gait and his white Plasticman sunglasses, Craig R. has another whining shirt on, and Roberto effortlessly makes his unironed, short sleeve shirt look better than Kirk’s sweater. The men eventually “find” Ali atop some giant tower and the predictable Rapunzel comments flow like free booze at a pre-rose ceremony cocktail party. Ali alerts us that the tower is part of a 15th century fortress built by the Ottoman empire, which she finds fascinating because she can’t believe that there was an entire empire dedicated to building footrests. The men are ready to “embrace Turkish tradition and culture” and proceed to guzzle giant beers and chain smoke unfiltered cigarettes at 10 AM.

Here’s where it gets weird.

Out of nowhere appear 4 Turkish mariachis, 4 oily shirtless guys, and 1 guy in a suit with a whistle. We lament Justin’s departure as we discover that olive oil wrestling is a favorite Turkish pastime. Bathhouses, spice bazaars, and oil wrestling? When did this show turn into a gay parade?

I found it interesting to know that the time honored tradition of Jell-O wresting we have here in various “gentlemen’s” establishments has its roots in Turkey. I wondered if—like American Jell-O wrestlers--the 4 Turkish guys were also named after spices, fruits, or cities in Nevada. I didn’t see any sparkly powder on them, but I’m certain it was obscured by the olive oil. The guys undress as Chris L. provides sufficient straight guy talk in an effort to fend off the gayness of the whole situation. Roberto oils up his dimples as he proves that didn’t receive the shave your entire body memo that the other guys clearly got.

All of the guys lose horribly to the angry Turks except Roberto who clearly threw his match so as not to embarrass the others. The Turks take a cigarette break as Chris R. whines at the fact that he’s “a lawyer not an athlete.” I suppose Bobby Jones might take exception to that characterization, but he whines about fighting with words as Ali and her pouty lower lip prepare to be fought over for alone time. Craig R. beats Chris L., Roberto beats Kirk, and then the Harrison talks Roberto into throwing his match with Craig R. because he’s sick of hearing him whine. Craig R. “earns” the 1 on 1 time with Ali and characterizes it as “better than winning a big case” and anyone who knows anything about the practice of law in a big East Coast defense firm rolled his eyes knowing that 27 year old lawyers won’t touch a real case for years. Idiot. Incidentally, I would have loved to see either Frank or Kasey involved in the oil wrestling. Enough said. I would include the Weatherman, but when it comes to bathhouses and oil wrestling, we know he’s done both.

As Craig R. slips further into denial about, well, everything, Kirk worries that Craig R. could get an advantage over him because of the coveted alone time. Dude, look at your abs and then look at the gooey mess that constitutes Craig R.’s mid-section. You’re fine. Craig and Ali go on an uneventful boat ride and eat dessert atop some other really old tower while Craig R. makes sh*tty jokes and Ali pretends as hard as she can to be interested. They act like it’s the first time either one of them has seen a firework and we realize that Craig R. is FINALLY set to be sent to Turkish prison.

Back at the Man Suite the date card comes and we learn the Super Frank (without his Clark Kent glasses), gets the 1 on 1. The “road to love is bazaar” the card reads. Roberto pretends to be threatened by Craig R. and Frank. Ali awaits Frank’s arrival in her knee boots and strategically long hide-her-rear-end coat like a hooker on an Istanbul street corner and let’s us know that this is a make or break date for Frank. We don’t care.

Frank arrives in his Clark Kent glasses; however, he strategically balances them with his lucky green jacket and trusty Seven jeans. Why do guys wear those things? Embroidered pockets? Really?

Frank and Ali do that weird high hand holding move that Jake used last season and we assume that Frank and Jake shared the same Bachelor instructor as we worry about Ali’s rotator cuff being injured in the event that Frank slips. They skip to the spice bazaar for some shopping. Ahh, the spice bazaar. What man doesn’t like to take a nice romantic stroll through an overly crowded market filled with aggressive Turkish merchants? Those places are about as safe as a Mexican 18 wheeler. Regardless, Frank floats on air as he and Ali get bilked into buying some Spanish Fly (I suppose it was Turkish Fly) from a vendor who shares Kirk’s affinity for argyle. It’s too bad Jake and Vienna didn’t get to go to Turkey and buy aphrodisiacs. Apparently, they could have used them. Frank dons a fake sultan hat and Ali dresses like a belly dancer as they giggle the afternoon away. I got up and got a beer.

Basking in his new found masculinity, Craig R. sports a Kenny Chesney black muscle shirt and talks about Frank going home. He then dresses as a pot and calls a kettle black as Roberto—fresh off a stroll in the park and adding one plus one—listens intently. Chris L. and Ty bond as well and we assume Kirk was somewhere completing his P90X workout.

Frank displays his Yassir Arafat PLO scarf as he and Ali continue to shop. They get screwed by the Turkish mafia into buying a rug before heading to the Basilica of Something to dine in the middle of a sewage tunnel while we see Ali and her mood necklace worry about Frank’s lack of confidence. Ali is impressed with the magical nature of the sewage tunnel and is happy about its history, although she has no idea what that history is. Frank tries not to squeeze the bunny to death like Lenny in Of Mice and Men and manages to keep it together long enough for Ali to finally admit that she has control issues. Frank and Ali have an insecurity contest in the middle of the sewer and Frank eventually earns a rose in order to continue the “hard, difficult emotional journey” he’s embarked on with Ali. Way to hold it together, Frank.

We cut back to the Man Suite with the men suited up and jonesing for a drink. Roberto shows Craig R. how to make French blue look good and still doesn’t tighten his tie because he doesn’t have to. Frank adds a touch of color to his Mad Men suit and Chris L. looks like a kid at a wedding in his disheveled shirt and coat and Sketchers. Dude, you’re not five. Buy some dress shoes. Ty sports a pink “Ty” and Kirk and his double Windsor knot wait nervously on the couch.

Ali sits in the Lair of Seclusion in her black evening dress with her sloppy extensions and smoky eyes awaiting the arrival of Harrison for an important chat. Harrison arrives in his red power tie ready to listen. In an effort to cut the show short because of the Justin situation, Ali “decides” to eliminate the cocktail party—they had to find 30 minutes somewhere—and move straight to the dumping. Harrison reiterates Ali’s desire to ditch the party before leaving the Lair of Seclusion. Ali tells us that it’s not fair to send a guy home after the cocktail party. What? At least let the guy get liquored up before you send him packing. Geez.

Harrison arrives downstairs to the pack of nervous guys with his sport coat buttoned. The ubiquitous champagne glass and fork clearly have no place in this meeting and Harrison lets us know again that he’s not F’ing around this week as we hear the production crew in the background moving the contents of the bar meant for the now defunct cocktail party into Harrison’s suite. Harrison reiterates what he reiterated before and sends the guys upstairs to stand on Frank’s new rug in anticipation of Ali’s arrival.

“Pack up the bar snacks too and get me 4 female olive oil wrestlers in leather pants, I’ll be there in 20,” Harrison says as he unbuttons his coat and heads upstairs to restate the rules of the rose ceremony.

Frank and Ty revel in their safeness and Ali hands out the remaining roses.

1. Roberto (proving that second place in an olive wrestling contest is all he needs to stay alive)

2. Chris L. (again, uses too much ammunition by dropping a “you look beautiful” on Ali as she pins the rose on his wrinkled sport coat)

3. Kirk (see, I told you the abs were enough to beat Craig R.)

Craig R. becomes the first guy to ruin a cocktail party and get booted. He enters the van of humiliation and sniffles his way to the airport. He was a pain in the neck all season but it was hard not to feel sorry for the guy. Go back to Philly and work on your career and your game, Craig R. You’re young enough to start over.

There it is. After the most homoerotic episode of the Bachelorette, with the Amazing count at 103 we head to Lisbon, Portugal where the drama continues to build. In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be spice shopping at the local bazaar. DP