Bachelor Recap Episode 8: Get Down to the Home Town

Hello, Readers. Happy President’s Day and welcome to Episode 8 of our favorite show. We’re at that point in the season where redundancies rule the day and the Brad has really begun to wear on our nerves. Brad has literally “thank you’d” and “please, do’d” every person from Los Angeles to Anguilla and back again and now we’re ready for him to sweat profusely through his tailored suit in the middle of a rose garden in an exotic locale and pick the potential Mrs. Stephen Bradley Womack Pikelsimer. Yes, it’s time for Brad to visit the home towns of the four remaining women in order to eliminate the one he doesn’t feel like sleeping with in the Fantasy Suite next week.

Before we begin, this week’s shout out goes to Jenna in Denver who unknowingly brought a tear to my eye and a smile to my heart by sending me a message saying that she laughed hysterically at last week’s blog. That’s not unusual for Jenna who, like Big Ben or Old Faithful, religiously sends me a timely email with her favorite lines along with a nice message wishing me well. What is different about this week is that her father is extremely ill and she took the time to leave his bedside in order to read and email me. I doubt I have much pull with the Big Guy anymore, Jenna, but you and your family will be in my prayers. For those of you who believe in that sort of thing, please pray for Jenna and her family. For those of you who don’t, humor me and pray anyway. With that said, let’s get to it.

THE SETUP

We begin, oddly enough, in New York City where we see Brad packing his suitcase and brooding about the possibility of visiting the home towns of “these women.” Of course, we’re expected to believe that this sequence was filmed prior to him leaving for the first of the four visits across country before subsequently returning to New York along with each of the remaining four in order to pow wow with Harrison in the Lair of Seclusion prior to the rose ceremony. Whatever.

Brad wanders aimlessly around his hotel balcony dressed like a character from a Guy Ritchie movie contemplatively reliving his initial meetings and zip line dates with each of the women. We see them all exit the limousine ready to embark on their quest to find one thing interesting about Brad besides his looks.

By the way, what was up with that hat? Did he borrow that from the limo driver? Was he planning on standing on a New York street corner and shouting “Extra! Extra!” at the top of his lungs as men in fedoras stoically passed by, grabbed a newspaper from one hand, and placed two bits in the other? Was he planning on playing tenor sax at a jazz bar later in the evening? Or was he going to deal blackjack in the back of the local speakeasy? Did he have a slapstick act on Vaudeville? Did he have a Mickey Rooney dress alike contest to attend? Was he headed to a Little Rascals Reunion Party? Alright, I’m out but feel free to think of your own stupid hat joke and comment on it.

Somewhere around mid-brood, we cut to shots of the four finalists as Brad gives us one pro and one con for each of them. Chantal appears from the limo 36 days and 12 pounds ago and we’re reminded of the contrived slap she delivered on cue. Brad tells us she’s “emotional” and he can’t deal with the roller coaster that is Chantal. He hopes that she’ll feel more at home in her parents’ modest little bungalow on the edge of town. He fails to realize that the reason their house sits on the edge of town is because their driveway takes up most of the town. More about that later.

Look, I’m not going to pick on Chantal’s obvious weight gain. I’m sure she’s a naturally curvier woman and as I’ve said before, I found her attractive all season. I don’t go for waifs or whatever the PC term for an undiagnosed bulimic is these days. There’s nothing wrong with a woman with a little meat on her bones provided that the aforementioned meat is in the right places.

However, I’m certain that, like Ali before her, Chantal starved herself about 6 weeks prior to going on the show in order to look her best. That plan ended up backfiring because she got too far below her natural weight. Throw in a month worth of free food and booze (remember, she drinks beer) along with several emotional breakdowns that undoubtedly lead to a frantic search for comfort food at the mansion and boom, she put on more than she lost. Chalk that up in the “What’s Wrong with Reality Shows” column.

We next see happy, energetic, outgoing, and Tenley-esque Ashley and her Fivehead. Brad essentially says the same thing about her that he does Chantal—a theme that, much to my chagrin, will manifest itself regularly over the next couple of hours. In fact, let me just wrap up the entire segment with the following:

“I like (insert name of giggly woman currently exiting limo on screen) a lot. I really do. I’m SO excited to go and visit (insert name of woman currently engaging in an adventure date on screen)’s home town. I really am. I mean that. No doubt about it. The first time I saw (insert name of woman currently making out with Brad on screen) I was blown (insert two second pause) away. I really was. I’m a little concerned though about (insert name of woman currently crying on screen)’s behavior. We started off so strong and we’ve had some challenges. We really have. I mean that. I really do. I cannot wait to meet these families. I really can’t. Please do. Thank you. I mean that. Do you mind? I don’t. Truly. I don’t. Thank you. Truly.”

Plus or minus a comment about Emily’s daughter, you get the picture. Set up complete, Brad checks the weather in Seattle in hopes that it will be cold enough there for him to wear his brand new oatmeal-colored, fingerless gloves. He fights through the disappointment of higher temperatures and settles for a vest and some safety layers before boarding the plane and heading to meet Chantal O’s family.

CHANTAL IN SEATTLE

We head West to Seattle as we see Chantal O. clad in slimming black and a 30 foot ubiquitous scarf wandering aimlessly amongst the water in the shadow of that weird Jetsons-looking building. She characterizes herself as a “total relationship person.” Translation: I can’t be alone. She sets up another of the evening’s themes by telling us—ironically, I might add—that this week is “huge” and that she’s ready to get to the “next level.”

As Brad duck walks through the park (WOMACK!) searching for Chantal O and her scarf, Chantal tells us that her parents are “great judges of character.” Translation: they judge everyone and then tell me what to do. I’m crippled without them and I won’t go against what my rich, latently homosexual father and my trying to appear younger than me mother say.

Brad eventually recognizes Chantal O.’s scarf and they hug after closing the standard 200 yard Bachelor drop off distance across a field. It was at this point that I found myself greatly missing Jillian’s run, jump, and leg wrap greeting. I popped the cap off of my first Lone Star beer and settled in for the big visit.

By the way, why didn’t we drop in on Jason and Molly to see how they were doing? I’m sure Harrison sent over a smoked ham or a fruit cake or something festive while the crew was in town. At any rate, Chantal O. tells us about her two cats and one dog saying that they are part of the Chantal O. package.

Cats? Why do women like cats? They are self-centered, lazy, and untrainable. They stink up the house and ruin every piece of furniture they inhabit. They are indifferent to their surroundings unless they need something at which point they pounce on the person they know can get it for them. In other words, cats possess every quality that women go to wine bars with their friends and complain about in their men. Odd how that works, isn’t it? I need to grow some fur and get an attitude. I’d kill with chicks like Chantal O.

Brad and Chantal share the most awkward and scripted conversation of the season before heading to her place—4 blocks from the watchful eyes of mom and dad. We meet Bailey and Jinxy, the cats, and Boca, her dog who wears t-shirts. Good Lord. I would have high tailed it out of there the second I saw the t-shirt on the dog. Brad pretends to like cats and feigns amusement at her tiny dog as it does its best Womack impression by going shirtless and groping Chantal O. Apparently, Boca didn’t have time to shave his chest. His impression was appreciated, but I found him to be too animated.

After another round of agonizing fake conversation, we head to Chantal O.’s parents’ house. Apparently, her family is so rich they literally purchased Tuscany and had it flown over to Seattle after kicking out all of the Italians and building a house bigger than Dallas on top of it. For crying out loud that place was huge.

If Jake was still the Bachelor he could have stored his cargo plane in their living room while he pursued his acting and dancing career in L.A. after Chantal’s parents opened those hangar doors. It’s good to know that no matter how much weight she gains, Chantal will still be able to fit through those doors.

Chantal knocks on the door and she and Brad wait for Lurch to come and answer. They enter and we meet her mother, Billie Jo O. (who also sports a man’s Rolex); her father, Michael O.; and her brother, Conner O. Mr. O, who looks a good deal like Donny Osmond and dresses exactly like Brad, gives Brad a cursory tour of the first couple acres of interior space and we soon see that the only thing that’s had more work done on it than the living room is Billie Jo O’s face.

The family begins to suck down wine like a Dyson DC31. Dad drinks and mom tries not to pop a stitch as she laughs politely at the slap in the face story. Buzzing and uninhibited, Dad invites Brad for some alone time but firsts insists on taking him to every corner of the manor in order to extract the week’s taxes from the serfs toiling away on his land. It’s been said that a man's home is his wife's castle, but in this case I think Dad did all the decorating.

In an odd twist, Mr. O. takes Brad into some mysterious room in the mansion and shows him a homoerotic nude statue of a guy carving himself out of a rock. “He’s a self-made man, like us, Brad.” I was waiting for him to drop an “I’m miserable and in the closet, Brad. Please save me from this thankless life I live.” Instead, Brad bonds heavily with Mr. O. to the point where I thought Dad might attempt to cut out Chantal altogether and keep Brad for himself. At the very least, I expected him to ask Brad to disrobe so he could measure him for a statue. I half expected him to unlock a giant chest and bring out the Gimp. That whole exchange was strange.

Dad continues to suck down wine in anticipation of being asked by Brad to retire to the Fantasy Suite. Brad recognizes the “simularities” between himself and dad. Dad actually drops the “where do you see yourself at 45” question. I expected Brad to say something like,

“I want to own many purple shirts just like you. I really do. Truly. I see myself married to Chantal and inviting you and Mrs. O. to our place in Austin where I’d be able to share my own collection of overtly gay art with you after I—much like your plastic surgery loving wife—accepted your latent homosexuality as the cost of admission for enjoying the fruits of your labor, sir. Thank you for asking. I mean that. I really do. Truly.”

Brad departs after winning over the family and getting a feeling-concealing, macho handshake from Mr. O. Mission accomplished. They honestly seemed like nice people. Clearly, her father liked Brad. I picked her to win early because I figured on that connection with her father, but I’m not certain now that the money and the unspoken gay bond with dad will be enough to overcome the emotional wake she’s been leaving behind her for weeks now. Also, that hangar of a living room is a hell of a big space to fill. Brad will have a tough time replacing daddy’s money and if any of you don’t think that will cross his mind then you’re wrong. Spoiled girls are impossible to please and most men know that. I’m certain that even Brad has learned that lesson.

ASHLEY IN MADAWASKA, MAINE

We head next to Madawaska, Maine, the most Northeast city in the United States. We see and excited Ashley wandering aimlessly within 200 yards of the drop off point as she proudly tells us about her small town of less than 4,500 people. Brad arrives in his black leather jacket and fingerless gloves and gives Ashley a big fat hug.

Fingerless gloves? First the hat and now the fingerless gloves? I was waiting for him to excuse himself so he could drink a few raw eggs before jogging to meet Burt Young in the freezer of a butcher shop to punch sides of beef before running to the steps of the capitol in preparation for his title bout with Apollo Creed. He looked like he was going to enforce a picket line for the stevedores union on the waterfront. He coulda been a contender. He coulda been somebody, instead of a douche, which is what he is. How’s that for a Stallone and Brando reference in the same paragraph?

Please enjoy my Haiku to Brad’s Gloves.

A Pair of New Gloves
Fingerless they are indeed
What a Freaking Douche

By the way, let’s make that a contest this week. Please post your favorite haiku about Brad in my comment section or on my Guy in Austin Facebook Fan Page. I’ll announce the winner and think of a prize next week.

Annnnyyyyhooooo . . .

As the wind accentuates her giant forehead Ashley brings Brad to the first place she became gainfully employed and proceeds to give a dim witted Brad a lesson on the country to the North of us. It’s a place called Canada and, apparently, they speak a bit of French up there. Brad deflects his ignorance by saying exactly what he said about Seattle. “I love it here. I could live here.” The waitress appears and mutters something in French and Brad answers in Spanish proving that he’s capable of being a fool in English and French. Hell, it worked for Jerry Lewis.

Fivehead continues to explain that there are French Acadians who speak, well, French. She orders “poutine,” or fries with gravy and cheese, and Brad pretends to enjoy it all the while pretending that the gravy mix is actually protein powder.

It was nice to see how proud Ashley was of her home town as she and Brad wander about gathering lobster and vegetables for dinner. I love small towns and there is something pleasantly and refreshingly unique about accompanying someone from one on a trip back home. As a visitor, a person soon realizes that understanding the town is essential to understanding the person. Brad seemed genuinely impressed as well.

Fivehead and Brad arrive at her parents’ modest home and everyone proceeds to scream and jump around like Bob Barker just called their name. Odd. Chrystie, her loud mouthed, attention seeking, tattoo covered sister—we know SHE didn’t go to dental school—immediately uses her loud mouth to seek attention. I’ve made no secret of my affinity for small town girls with tattoos; however, no amount of tattoos can cover up annoying. I popped another Lone Star in an attempt to dull the pain. After all, life is about coping mechanisms, isn’t it?

The family seemed warm and inviting, but man were they overbearing and annoying. There was forced laughter at all of Brad’s “jokes.” They eat lobstah and pataytahs and eventually Fivehead’s dad—who is the polar opposite of Chantal’s effeminate, Greek art having, purple silk shirt wearing, pinot noir coiffing, mani/pedi getting father—takes him to the Madawaska version of the chat room. That’s also known as the storage shed, by the way.

Amongst the bags of stacked insulation and exposed Hardee board, they discuss life’s conundrums and we learn that Ashley is not, in fact, a dentist but a dental student who “is going to finish” school. Frankly, I felt cheated. For 8 weeks now she’s been “a dentist.” I would have found the “I’m the first in my small town to go to graduate school” story line much more appealing. Shame on the Producers for pandering to the appearance of status.

After some cursory shots of the attention seeking sister and mom’s colored and shellacked hair, her flannel pearl snap wearing father gives Brad his blessing and everyone gives Ashley a kiss on her Fivehead. I liked her family dynamic. Although they were annoying they did seem the most receptive to the entire concept. Again, Brad loves it there and doesn’t want to leave. Alas, he leaves as Fivehead drops a “Brad and I’s” relationship before going inside and chastising her parents about telling Brad that she was not yet a dentist.

SHAWNTEL IN CHICO, CALIFORNIA

Fulfilling her father’s “if ABC is going to film in my house they are going to plug my family business” demand, we see the advertisement for the Newton-Bracewell Funeral Home. Before spewing more “next level” and “huge” talk Chantal wanders through the narrow confines of her mausoleum in her version of the ubiquitous 30 foot scarf waiting for Brad to arrive.

Brad duck walks (WOMACK!) through the parking lot into the crypt and has no idea if he should whisper, bless himself, or just hug Shawntel. To be fair, that was weird. Shawntel looked pretty in her short skirt thing and boots. It’s too bad she was forced to start the day at the morgue. In a show of solidarity with Ashley S. she drops a “Brad and I’s” relationship.

Of course, Brad “loves it” in Chico too. We assume he could see himself living there. Brad and Shawntel take a tour of the crypt house as every interred body in the place rolls over and the dozens of Chico families with relatives buried there took a deep breath in horror. The terror on Brad’s face was evident.

Shawntel gives Brad an embalming lesson in the Prep Room as she talks passionately about her job. I was actually impressed. Brad, however, complained that a future with Shawntel would entail many conversations about death and the embalming process. Whatever. I’m sure she’s delighted at the prospect of coming home every night after providing comfort and closure to grieving families and hearing about the bitchin’ cash he brought in on Ladies’ Night or the big success of the Tappa Tappa Keg Fraternity No Means Yes Date Rape Mixer Party 2011 thrown at one of his bars. Jackass.

We meet Shawntel’s family among more screaming and jumping around. Apparently, Bob Barker (or is it Drew Carey now?) made the trip from L.A. to Chico. We meet Dad Rick and his porn stash, Mom Coleen, and her two younger, hot sisters, Sodom and Gomorrah. Actually, I think it was Destiny and Vanessa, which are strippers’ names anyway, but I’m getting bogged down in details.

The family dines in a white room that frankly looked like the Prep Room if all of the surgical tools were replaced with fake flowers and nautical clocks. Brad chomps away on a 50 ounce steak grateful to replenish his waning protein reserves and the moving to Austin talk begins as Shawntel belts wine in preparation for having the “you’re not leaving Chico and the family business” talk that has undoubtedly gone on in that house countless times. Oh boy.

Brad drops some ridiculous metaphor about the family business and then says they are all “full of life.” Whoever wrote that for him should have been embalmed. Shawntel has to deal with her father’s selfish demands but stands her ground. Again, I was impressed with her. That was probably not easy for her to do. Dad eventually relents to the demands of the Producers and the promise of the free, primetime plug of his beloved funeral home and gives Brad his blessing all the while hoping it doesn’t work out so his daughter can remain perpetually trapped in Chico waiting for people to die.

Brad drops a “what a family” as he fights every urge to duck sprint (WOMACK!) for the waiting car. We all knew he would boot Shawntel, but I have to say that I really liked her. She and her family—minus the controlling, myopic father—seemed really nice. To be fair, I can understand Dad’s desire to pass on the family business and he seemed genuine. We’ll see how that entire scenario pans out when Shawntel decides to get the hell out of Chico on her own. Brad hits the road and boards a plane in order to reunite with his head and heart in Charlotte.

EMILY IN CHARLOTTE

We cut to Charlotte, which for those of you who have never been there, is like Austin in the sense that it just about as close to the perfect balance a person can get between a small town and a big city. A close friend of mine did his residency there in medical school and I spent some time there over the years. It’s a beautiful place with a ton of hot broads with wonderful manners and accents like Emily. I get that not all of you dig the South, but Charlotte is charming. That’s all I’m saying. Oh, and a bit of trivia. “Angel” from my Worst Date Ever off season post is from Charlotte. The post can be found somewhere between September and December of 2010 on the blog. Annyyyhooo . . .

We get a shot of a tight jean and winter boot clad Emily running to reunite with her daughter. That was a nice moment but I’m always leery of putting kids on these shows. To be fair, the cameras seemed to maintain a safe distance, but still.

Emily preps the kiddo for meeting her “new friend” as Brad duck walks (WOMACK!), bribe in hand, across the park to meet Emily and Little Ricki. The entire scenario was awkward but I think we’ve all been there when a child that age just doesn’t want to deal with whatever situation is presented. Frankly, I was surprised that Brad—who has some nieces and nephews—was not better with her daughter, but I’m sure the cameras and all of the hoopla made it more difficult. Ricki eventually warmed up to Brad’s kite.

Back at Emily’s kickass house—thank you, Hendrick family—we get invited into the kid’s room which, frankly, was the equivalent of a Fantasy Suite for kids. Pink couches, bunk beds, make up areas, toy-filled shelves, and every amenity imaginable was at that kid’s finger tips. In short, Emily and that kid are WELL taken care of in Charlotte. Good luck getting any of that stuff on a moving truck labeled “Austin.”

Brad gets intellectually outmatched in a game of Candyland and pretends to be comfortable. After the kid is put to sleep with the camera man in her room, Brad and Emily retire to the sofa for some flakey pie and water from a mason jar. Brad acts flakey and makes it clear that he’s not in the mood for Emily’s pie. He hides behind that fact that her daughter is upstairs asleep but we all knew that he couldn’t shake the thought of looking knowingly into Chantal’s father’s eyes amidst the soft lighting and delicate shadow of that super gay statue.

Emily fights the urge to laugh in Brad’s face and gives him the “you’re sweet and respectful speech” before finally making him kiss her. ARE YOU CRAZY?! I screamed at my TV as I sat up angrily spilling precious drops of my Lone Star. The guy is in Emily’s house alone with her and he won’t kiss her. Dude, that statue must have done a number on him. I felt like Maverick riding behind Iceman in Top Gun as Iceman hesitated and hesitated behind the Russian Mig. “I could take a shot right here!” I yelled. Ridiculous. Brad leaves Emily disappointed. I believe I would have handled that opportunity a tad differently.

BACK IN NYC

Harrison, fresh off a trip to Scores, showers up in order to remove the smell of jasmine and the residual glitter from his face and meets Brad in the Lair of Seclusion to discuss the home towns with Brad. He plugs the hotel sponsor and begins to turn the knife a bit. Man, I’ve missed Harrison. Dr. Jamie, my ass.

Brad “I really can’t’s” “I hope so’s” “I really do’s” and “I appreciate it’s” all over the place before Harrison’s buzz begins to wear off and he shuts down the circular interview to prep the ladies for the big ceremony. Brad remains in the Lair to brood amongst the candle light and framed 8X10’s.

ROSE CEREMONY

Harrison sets up the obvious, wishes the ladies luck, and retires to the bar while Brad does the dirty work.

Emily looked stunning in royal blue, Ashley looked tired, Shawntel looked very pretty in black sequins, and Chantal looked TERRIBLE. Her Betty Rubble hairdo lacked only the bone through the bun and her dress was ill-fitting and looked uncomfortable. What the hell happened to her? I actually felt bad for her.

Brad makes a canned speech and proceeds to eliminate Shawntel. Frankly, I think the family issues, lack of chemistry, and her creepy job did it for him. I know I picked Chantal early, but I think he made a mistake. Shawntel is sufficiently upset but not crazy. I couldn’t figure out if she was more upset at the dumping or the fact that she’s stuck in Chico indefinitely. I’d be willing to bet that the “I didn’t get picked” phone call home was awkward as hell considering the fact that her dad probably threw a quiet celebration.

Shawntel won me over this season. I liked her, but it was clear that she and Brad didn’t click the way he does with the others. In that regard, it was a good decision for Brad. Shawntel laments saying that Brad “was perfect.” She’ll get over that feeling by the time the After the Final Rose show airs. Trust me. With any luck some out-of-towner will wander through a Chico cemetery in search of his dead birth parents or something and sweep Shawntel off her feet like Richard Gere did Deborah Winger in An Officer and a Gentlemen.

Well, there you have it. With the Amazing count 103 and the Journey count remaining at a stagnant 20 this week, we head to South Africa for Episode 9 and the Fantasy Suite dates. I can’t wait. Don't forget to post your haiku. In the meantime, if you need me I’ll be in Seattle posing for a nude statue. DP