Bachelorette Emily Episode 5: Kalon Gets the F*ck Out

Well hello, Readers.  I trust that your week went by swimmingly.  Mine was rather busy again.  I’ve got a lot of balls in the air right now and it’s often difficult to keep juggling them.  Notwithstanding the fact that I’m grateful to have my balls juggled, it’s an exhausting proposition to sit through a one hour show that lasts two hours and come up with a witty breakdown the next morning.  Oh, who am I kidding? I love doing that.  I just wanted to set up an early anatomy joke. 

Before we begin this week I’d love to send a shout out to my London fan base.  I have fond memories of the ex-pats from the USA who now call England home because they were the first people to contact me and let me know that this little blog happened to be read on the other side of the pond.  That still makes me smile when I think about it and they’ve been kind enough to stay in touch over the past couple of years.  In fact, I got an early email last week reminding me that our favorite, least favorite show was being filmed from London.  Thanks for the message.  Good luck in London and travel safely wherever you end up going.  Oh, and if you see Kalon in a cab, point him toward the airport, would you?  Now, let’s get to it.  

We begin in London, England with canned shots of familiar landmarks before seeing Emily and Little Ricki stroll around the city taking advantage of the free swag provided by the ABC advertisers.  They take pictures and ride around in a double decker bus while Emily’s voice over (predictably) recaps her current “in search of the right man for the right reasons” status. 

In a subtle yet definite display that purple was indeed the color of nobility back when Mel Gibson was running around in a kilt, Harrison summons the remaining dudes for a powwow in Trafalgar Square in order to display his new purple scarf.  No one has worn purple that effectively since Prince.  So adamant was he about his selection, the men were prevented from wearing anything but grays and blacks.  It was like watching the first 15 minutes of The Wizard of Oz for crying out loud. 

Harrison lines up the three dates of the week.  There is, of course, the Group Date accompanied by two one-on-one dates.  No flower means you’re on a plane in an hour.  The men absorb the enormity of the week and retire to the Amarillo Suite in the Mayfair Hotel where they undoubtedly snuggled with their multicolored v-neck t-shirts before stumbling upon the first one-on-one Date Card.    

"Sean, Love takes no prisoners," it reads and I screamed “Tower of London” at my television after a swallowing a pull of cold Lone Star beer.  A muted, yet excited Sean overgels his hair (he’s from Dallas, what did you expect?), throws on some plaid over his v-neck, and busts out his best pair of Rascal Flatts jeans (he’s from Dallas, what did you expect?) as Kalon longs for control of the situation.  His androgynous smirk smacked of frustration.  My guess is that this little adventure is likely the first time in his entire life he wasn’t given exactly what he wanted on a platter matching the silver spoon that has been stuffed in his mouth since birth.

Emily arrives looking like a hotter, younger, female Colombo in her brown trenchcoat to meet Sean in the park.  They board a double decker bus and take an identical tour to the one she just had with Little Ricki before dropping her off with the overly permissive nanny.  Sean screams like an idiot and Emily spouts off some more facts from the “Things To Do In London” brochure she received in her ABC itinerary packet. 

BOOORING…   

Back in the Amarillo Room Good Guys Ari and Jef—as evidenced by their white t-shirts—set up this week’s conflict with Bad Guy Kalon in his black t-shirt.  Please.  They might as well have been issued cowboy hats and badges.  Kalon badmouths Little Ricki setting the pre-planned plot in motion and somewhere in the sound truck an ABC intern hit the “Confirm Reservation” button on a London to Houston flight he booked via the Priceline.com website.  We all knew it was coming.  Frankly, so did Kalon.  More about that later.      

Back in the park, Sean confesses that his last date was a harrowing 4-5 months ago.  He’s "selective" he tells her as they philosophize about "good guys" and their qualities.  Honestly, they seemed to have an understated chemistry.  Emily was clearly interested.  He carries her luxury brand handbag on the way to a place called Speaker's Corner where he gets up and speaks about love and some other horrible clichés about his parents and grandparents.  Canned?  Yes, but I’ll give him credit for owning it and she appeared to buy it, which, let’s face it, is all that really counts. 

Sufficiently impressed, they head for dinner in Tower of London.  “I knew it,” I smiled to myself.  Emily does her own royal impression sporting a light purple pashmina while being accompanied by Sean who is dressed like the Transporter.  The guy went from gray pinstripes and a pink tie to dressing like a chauffer.  What gives?    

Some English guy in a stupid outfit seats them.  By the way, I’ve never been to London but it appears that there are a lot of people in ridiculous outfits walking around that city.  It’s like a Renaissance festival accidentally occurring amidst a big city’s daily activities.  Just an observation.  Annnyyyhoooo….

Emily makes small talk and we realize that her grueling luxury brand schedule has made her a bit hoarse.  She bravely pushes on in spite of the pain by spouting off more facts from her ABC prep packet as Sean wisely demonstrates that, unlike Kalon, it is not absolutely necessary to hear himself talk.  The guy’s approach was subtle, yet I have to admit, effective. 

Even when Emily went with the usual 20-something scare away line, "I want a lot of kids," Sean didn’t flinch.  "How many kids does he want?"  We don't know, but she certainly wants a bunch.   I could literally see her ovulating from across the ocean.  Look, I’ve made no secret that I think Emily is hot.  However, she clearly has a biological clock ticking loudly in her ear like that guilty guy from Poe’s The Telltale Heart.  I have my own opinions about that.  Perhaps that’s an off-season post.  I was happy how Sean handled it, though.  Emily appeared happy too.  That fat guy in the black hat who helped Roz pack her s*it when she got booted for banging (allegedly) a producer was sad because he didn’t get to step out of the darkness in his guillotine executioner costume and scare the hell out of Sean.  He was too busy wondering if, like William the Conqueror in 1066, he’d get a chance to storm Emily’s castle.  Hell, she looked like she wanted to see the Crown Jewels. 

Ahh, English humor.      

Sean proves himself to be the anti-Ryan and Emily seemed more receptive than a pack of middle-aged housewives to a Chris Harrison Pool Party invitation.   All we needed was for The Band Train to show up (remember that?)   Sean masterfully illustrates the maxim “When you get to the end zone, act like you've been there.”  Nice work, Sean.  He gets some kisses and a rose.  Like Jef, he’s not “working” Emily and she clearly responds to subtle ass-kissing rather than blatant flattery.  Sean, of course, was just being himself.  That may seem elementary; however, I think we’d all agree that more often than not on this show, that tends to get lost.  

The Group Date Card arrives.  "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." 

Let me pause for a moment.

That quote is perhaps one of the most famous quotes in all of any written or spoken genre and was written by the most famous author of the Western world and beyond.  Not knowing that quote is like not knowing that Tiger Woods plays golf.  Hell, it’s worse than that.  In our world, it’s like not knowing that Chris Harrison hosts this show.  Any person with any semblance of an education has been exposed to it.  Period.  Top that off with the fact that they were in England—the birthplace of that famous author—and I have to agree with Kalon’s assessment of the bunch as "macho dumbasses" when they all failed to recognize a Shakespeare quote in England.  He actually deserves credit for that one.  They apparently teach English Lit at SMU.

Chris, Arie, Ryan, Doug, Alejandro, John, Travis,  and Kalon, who acts like the spoiled brat he is when he doesn't get his way, get the Group Date.  In spite of Nate’s absence, Jef does a bit of math and realizes that he’s drawn the big one-on-one.   

Group date takes place in Stratford on Avon, the birthplace of Shakespeare.  In a feeble attempt to perhaps bond with Emily Ryan inexplicably wears a scarf.  They find out that they’ll be acting out “portions” of Romeo & Juliet for a local crowd.  Good Lord, I thought.  Having this bunch come to Stratford on Avon and act out Romeo & Juliet is like having the Queen of England come to a union hall in Jersey and give a Hoffa speech. 

Arie proves that he is apparently functionally illiterate.  Travis doesn’t do any favors for the struggling Mississippi public education system when he uses the word "menstruals" instead of "minstrels".  All the while Alejandro sat there in his diamond studs drawing on his limited but valuable experience from the time he was the understudy for the part of  Bernardo in Bogata Junior High School’s Summer production of West Side Story in the park. 

 

 

Kalon is hard core, as usual.  He actually shooed Emily away.  She correctly wondered aloud, "I don't know who he thinks he is."  She should have used “get the f*ck out” right then.    

 

 

Doug drops the most ironic line of the night, telling the camera,  "I don't want to sound like an idiot...especially in front of an audience."  Too late, Doug.  There’s been an audience of about 8 million people who think you’re an idiot for the last five weeks.  He clearly needed a hug. 

 

 

People from West Virginia should probably not perform Shakespeare without taking diction lessons beforehand.  I’m just saying.  The only thing this segment had in common with the actual Romeo & Juliet is that, it too, was a huge tragedy. 

 

 

Arie, forced to take a female role, laments the fact that he's "not a thesbian."  I believe he meant "thespian" but dressed like a woman, he sure as hell looked like a thesbian.  If he had 8 more thesbians with him he could form a softball team.  It’s doubtful those thesbians would have to worry about menstruals either.  What do you get when you cross a bike and tampon?  A menstrual cycle.  I'll be here all week.

 

Travis calls Ryan a "sapsucker."  Who is he, Yosemite Sam?  I felt like breaking an ostrich egg over his head.  Confession:  I fast forwarded.      

 

The cocktail party—oddly enough—takes place at Cox's Yard.  Hell, this whole show takes place there.  I wondered aloud if this was actually a “Cock Tail Party.”  It’s amazing what a touch of the “space” button can do, isn’t it?    

 

Emily looked stunning in her short, white number.  They have beers in the pub.  No lights again?  What’s the deal this season?  I was beginning to wonder if Emily either had a pimple or was afflicted with photophobia.  Either way, it’s been awfully dark this season.    

 

Arie snuggles and goes to his backup "I missed you."   Then Emily has alone time with Ryan and his vest.  I prayed she had her rape whistle.  Of course, this is all window dressing.  “Let’s get the f*ck on with it,” I said, drinking my own beer. 

 

 

Kalon sulks and the real Kalon comes out.  Arie and Chris talk it out.  Kalon’s “Ricki is baggage” comment spreads like scurvy on an English vessel as the guys "right reasons" each other.  Doug wants to kill him.  Doug tattles.   She's understandably pissed.  She tries be a lady.  Doug shares some of the safety words he learned in Anger Management training as his ex-wife and her friends simultaneously spit up their chardonnay before bursting into hysterics.  Austin remained in his room alone throwing his baseball into the thin, lonely air surrounding him.    

 

Emily goes all Doug saying, "I want to go out there and rip his limbs off and beat him with them."  So much for being a lady.  Emily loses the jacket like Olivia Newton John in the closing scenes of Grease and confronts Kalon.  Kalon stutters like the pus*y he is.  Eventually, Kalon gets the f*ck out. She removes herself.  He hits the road.  

 

Emily retreats to spend time with Little Ricki.  Oblivious, Ricki wonders why her hotel room is so small and understated as compared to her room in her free house in Charlotte.  Emily is clearly rattled.  This is the part that sucks about being on the show.  We’ve seen everyone—most recently Ben—learn that lesson the hard way.  At least she didn’t curl up in her sheets and hide her head from the camera like some hormonally charged ostrich like Ashley or sob uncontrollably from a balcony like Jake or Mesnick.  She took the time to collect herself, probably had a long shower full of perspective-bringing thoughts, and suited up for her one-on-one with Jay Eee Ef.    

Poor Jef unwittingly inherits the real baggage of the evening but is perceptive enough to lead with a simple compliment and a hug.  He’s in a good position if he plays his cards right, I thought.  He's not a meathead and that's exactly what she needed after the baggage fiasco.  Unfortunately, his gratification will be delayed by a bucktoothed etiquette teacher.  It’s a shame Kalon left so soon.  This sort of garbage would be right up his alley.  A clearly miserable Emily and a mildly annoyed Jef suffer through the “proper” way to do things.  I don't think it works this way in West Virginia or at Jef’s water company.  They hit the Bell and the Crown Pub for some beer and fish and chips.  Now we’re talking.

Jef broaches the Kalon subject and confirms that he sort of told Kalon off in a round about way.  Emily drops the Bachelorette act and says some things that would make Jean, the bucktoothed etiquette teacher spit out her dentures.  That was hot, by the way.  Jef makes some solid luxury brand jokes comparing Ricki to a luxury handbag.  She digs him.  Fast forward to a dinner date where he talked WAY too much and me screaming “Kiss Her, Dude!” at the screen over whatever nonsense he was spouting, Jef did well.  He ended with a kiss and a rose.  I think I speak for most of us when I say that I was proud of him. 

Cocktail party.  Emily calls guys to the carpet for not ratting out Kalon but forgives and forgets.  It's good to bury the hatchet . . . as long as you don't forget where it's buried.  The entire Ricki is baggage comment and the surrounding fallout is immediately dubbed  "The Kalon Situation."

Emily busts everyone’s balls collectively and separately--a lot—about not “having her back.”  Frankly, I think they’re all more interested in her front, but that’s another post.  She made her point clear . . . over and over again. “ For never was there a segment of more woe/Than this which Emily could not let go.”    

Ryan pulls a balcony stunt and then demonstrates what a complete chach he is by speaking in clichés.  Oddly enough, Emily pretended to buy it.  I recalled the time that I was drunk in front of my television at 3am (well, ONE time) and I was almost lulled into picking up the phone and buying Tae Bo.  If you blanket someone with an idea enough times, it will eventually have an effect.  Ryan has been putting the press on Emily with the same line of crap for weeks now and she appeared to buy some of it in her weakened mental state.  Let’s PRAY that this a-hole doesn’t make the Fantasy Suite.  Unlike the one reader who thinks he’s a “hoot,” I can’t stand him.   

Harrison finally gets the f*ck in and pulls out the Ubiquitous Champagne Glass and Butter Knife.  Wolf sports red pants harkening back to Ames’s masterful presentation last season.  He’s no Ames.  Harrison redraws the line in the sand and we’re off. 

Rose Ceremony

1.         Sean

2.         Jef

3.         Doug

4.         Ryan

5.         Chris

6.         John

7.         Travis  

8.         Arie

Gone.

1.         Kalon

2.         Alejandro (Adios y vaya con dios.  Buen intento, amigo)

Well, there we have it.  With that Amazing count at 35 and the Journey count at 8 we head to Croatia for the top 8.  Thanks for your patience this week.  Until next week, please take care of yourselves.  If you need me, I’ll be getting the f*ck out.   DP