Holy Cow. Hello, Readers. Welcome back to the Part 1 recap of what might actually be the most (insert provocative adjective here) finale ever on the Bachelorette. I was half right in my prediction.
For those of you who read my dear friend Lincee Ray's wonderful blog I Hate Green Beans you already know that she and I plan to do a He Said, She Said type of blog posting on a regular basis. Check her blog site for details and send us your ideas. We'll start with Bachelor Related Content. I look forward to hearing from all of you and, of course, to arguing in public with Lincee. Now, let’s get right to it.
Not including the Men Tell All (I was too busy counting beers and not words) the Amazing Count sits at an incredible 156 and the Journey Count is at a not so shabby 40. In fact, I think the first 15 minutes of the big recap set a record for the number of Amazings uttered by one contestant on any show in history. If Amazings were people their population density on that island would have rivaled Manhattan. Someone needs to swap Des’ useless poetry book for a thesaurus. What’s another word for thesaurus? Annnyyyhooo . . . .
|I'm so Expressive!|
We begin on this season’s tropical paradise, Antigua. Ahh, there’s nothing quite like a tropical island for Fantasy Suite Week. I immediately wondered how many of the remaining guys would get a chance to see Des’ Greater and Lesser Antilles. That’s a little geography/anatomy humor to get the ball rolling this week.
|Rorschach Test. What does DP see?|
Canned shots of Antigua taken during Harrison’s mid-year “scouting trip” are thrown across the screen. “Yea, I get it,” I thought. The Caribbean paradise where anything can happen is almost as much of a cliché as the panoramic shots of our wayward Bachelorette “arriving” on the island via sailboat like Odysseus returning home after his (dare I say it?) journey.
Like Odysseus, Des has encountered her fair share of Lotus Eaters and even a Cyclops or two this season. She’s ready to nail down a possible fiancé who could maybe one day turn into her first husband. After all, she’s no Trista. Speaking of getting nailed, did I mention it’s Fantasy Suite Week?
Incidentally, I haven't been this excited since Womack dumped that bitter b*tch Deanna Pappas on the flower altar or whatever.
I’m certain that we all took a collective breath after sipping our chilled chardonnay and begging the ABC Gods to spare us the next 30 minutes of the recap and just get to the damn dumping. It was like waiting for a root canal sitting in the dentist’s office reading a year old Time Magazine or trying to solve the only puzzle without crayon all over it in the errant Highlights magazines scattered around the cheap end tables. Speaking of roots and canals, did I mention it’s Fantasy Suite Week?
I immediately retired to my bedroom to make an allegorical sketch of my feelings before pedantically penning profound poetry in my secret journal. As I mentioned, it’s a secret journal, but I trust all of you so I’ll share a haiku that summarizes my experience. Ahhhhemmm. . .
Brooding on the horizon
A dump truck awaits
|Brooks is behind the wheel|
After recapping the summaries of the recapped summaries of the entire recaps of the summaries of the recapped summaries of the season Des (and ABC, we presume) feels the need to recap a bit more. The only thing more worn out than these scenes was Brooks’ moth-eaten cardigan sweater collection. I swear Des’ birth canal got less mileage put on it in the Fantasy Suite. “MOVE ON!” I yelled. Hell, I was so impatient at this point I almost spilled a fresh Lone Star on my Snuggie.
FINALLY, we get to Drew.
Betty’s Hope will soon be Des’ Despair. Being the first slave out of the gate in the Fantasy Suite Dates is bitter sweet. Sure, there are no body fluids to clean up but you’re certain to take a giant spiked ball and chain straight to the face. I’ll give Drew credit for dressing like a man this time and I sincerely believed all of the sap oozing out of his mouth when he wasn’t sucking Des’ lungs through her trachea.
|Show me your Greater Antilles!|
They end up at Shirley’s Heights and we all know we’ll soon see Desiree’s Lows. After a ton of banter and a limbo contest (or was that just some stretching in anticipation of the after dinner goings on?) Des tells us that Drew is sincere. She and Drew ate shards of pineapple carefully carved by Drew while simultaneously boring the shit out of me. “Hey, Des. You know what rhymes with ‘sincere’?” Oh, never mind. Back to the recap.
Des and Drew digest the flora and the fauna before taking Harrison up on his invite and forgoing the foreplay by hitting the Fantasy Suite with the entire film crew. Remember, Des, there’s no “I” in phallus; however, there is a “US.” Lead off batter up.
Brooks broods on a bridge in Boise in his best fall regatta wear amongst the swans. He’s been thinking. Apparently, he was nervous about his free first class trip to Antigua. Let’s face it, he knew he as going to get picked by Des and when he had the chance to sober up and think about it far away from the close quarters of the sausage fest, he realized he didn’t want to marry her. Regardless, he books a layover in Boise to chat with mom and sis about it.
Dude, if you’re not there with a free ticket to Antigua in your pocket and a free engagement ring from Neil Lane you’re not going to get there. His mom hit the proverbial nail squarely on the head when, after a calculated sigh, she looked her son in the eye and said, “you should know by now.” Indeed. Game over, Des. Well, at least until Brooks has second thoughts and Mesnicks his way back to the Lair of Seclusion next week.
For some reason, we learn that we’ll be subjected to Chris' anachronistic date despite already knowing what’s going to happen. Whatever. With Des in some stringy hippie thingy and Chris in his purple v-neck. They meet up for an island date.
I waited for Chris to say, “How are you? Why do you smell like Drew?” Instead he made a Savage Garden reference by saying he was Truly, Madly, and Deeply in love with Des. Poor Bastard.
Des tells Drew she wants to explore the south end of the island. You know it’s coming. I might as well say it.
Speaking of exploring the south end of the island, did I mention it’s Fantasy Suite Week?
They end up on Barbuda Island. FYI, I believe the word “Barbuda” comes from an early Antiguan dialect and loosely translates into the English phrase “sure thing.” Loosely translates. Get it? I was certain Des already had.
Back to Des’ south end.
No limbo contest? To be fair, she was probably sick of bending over. Danny Tanner didn’t seem to care. They From Here to Eternity make out in the surf before Des recycles her Drew adjectives. He asks her if she’s ready to move to Seattle to which she responded, “Sure, I’d love to move to Salt Lake City . . . I mean Seattle.” Poor Chris. He deserved a private tour of the south end of the island.
Chris begins the big evening in the Fantasy Suite with yet another poem. Good Lord. This one was apparently written in Free Verse. By that, I mean that no one would ever pay to hear it. He actually used the word “journey” twice. Somewhere in Boise, Idaho Brooks was still digesting the fact that he’s unlikely to need a cardigan sweater in Antigua. Despite his poor effort, Chris still closed the deal (allegedly).
Des and her midriff wait for Brooks to arrive. She drones on. She saves her best bikini and white shorts (she’s no Emily) for Brooks. At this point I started to feel REALLY sorry for her. I suppose we can make the whole Deism vs. Theism argument with respect to ABC either orchestrating this mess or simply winding up the watch and letting it tick, but man, I thought she deserved a heads up. That opinion would change before the end of the show, however. For now, I dreaded the big heave ho.
Harrison sits down for a paycheck earning session with a forlorn Brooks and, boy, did he do a good job. Tough, direct questions, pregnant pauses, knowing looks. Solid work. I could see the “cha-ching” echoing between Harrison’s ears as he sat there watching Brooks squirm. Those mai-thais at the Bongo Beach Bar aren’t going to pay for themselves, after all. Brooks confirms the imminent let down.
Brooks: This is not the girl for me.
OHCH: Let’s hit the bar. Drinks on Fleiss.
Harrison puts the chalk outline around the body and Brooks signs the death certificate.
OHCH: “Good talk, Brooks. Call me at the bar if you need me.”
Why couldn’t this happen to Jake? I lamented.
Brooks broods on the beach as Des approaches like an unsuspecting mouse walking into a room full of stray cats. Dude, Harrison could have swung by the Fantasy Suite and given her a heads up. Instead, Brooks cuts to the chase. He got past “something’s wrong” pretty quickly but not to “we’re done” quickly enough. In fact, he could have flown back to Idaho faster than that took. Sadly, this is probably familiar territory for her.
Brooks: Yea, I’m (temporarily) done (until next week after I have regrets, production meetings at ABC, and a conversation with Neil Lane).
Des: But I put makeup on my hickies for you, Brooks. Even the ones you can’t see right now.
Des becomes the first Bach’ette in history to drop “I Love You” before the big day. How great of a prank would it have been if Harrison would have sent some unsuspecting intern in right at that moment to drop off the Fantasy Suite Card? Man, I’ve got to get my producer’s license. Des goes from upset to protective angry mode pretty quickly and I’m certain Brooks was glad his car was safely on the opposite side of the world along with Des’ Carrie Underwood CD’s.
Here’s where the recap stops and I explain my take on this whole fiasco.
There are two possibilities with Brooks. First, he’s an indecisive, emotionally unavailable guy who got caught off guard and developed real feelings for Des but never crossed the line into loving her. Ok. It happens, right? That doesn’t make him a bad guy but it does make it unfair to put her in the position of getting dumped and having to dump two other decent guys because he failed to make a tough decision until Harrison squeezed it out of him.
Second, it’s all a ruse to get him back to the studio and extend an otherwise uneventful season that yielded little workable footage thereby necessitating the need for a dramatic end. Brooks knows the end game and was promised some good stuff to play along. If that’s the case, that makes ABC the bad guy for not letting Des in on the big secret. As an optimist, I’ll choose the first scenario. However, it’s really a distinction without a difference, isn’t it?
Either way, I think he’s going to have a Mesnick-esque change of heart. Either way Des, Drew, and Chris' feelings were all needlessly dragged through the Antigua sand.
Another point I’d like to make: Des played along with the Bachelorette formula and didn’t break (or brake) the supposed rules when she knew Brooks was the guy. She said as much last night. That makes her whatever the female equivalent of a Chach is for leading Drew and Chris on for what she admitted was literally weeks. Uncool, but I’m certain she felt stuck. That’s, in part, why she’s looked so miserable all season. At least she got a free chiropractic adjustment out of it. Oh, and she should have foregone the foreplay and opted for her own bed too. Also uncool.
Oh, and for Des’ sake, I have a final point to make. You know what’s worse than getting dumped by the guy you think you want to marry? Having to explain to your small child why Mommy is suing Daddy for child support after you get divorced because you married the wrong person. Chin up, buttercup. It will all turn out alright.
Des seeks refuge pier side and proceeds to cry into her white shorts. Look, we’ve all been there. That feeling sucks and it sucks badly. Speaking of sucking badly, did I mention it’s Fantasy Suite Week? (I couldn't resist).
I was wondering why Des was so quiet then I realized that it’s not wise to plan a murder out loud.
Brooks continues to overstay his welcome by unbelievably saying, “I really hope she finds love. I hope she finds exactly who she’s looking for.” Uh, she did, Brooks. That guy just punted on fourth and inches.
Hey, two out of three isn’t bad. Well, except for the fact that she now has to kick Drew and Chris off the same pier. Ouch.
Remember, Des, if life gives you lemons, make lemonade. If life gives you melons, you probably have dyslexia.
As for poor Chris and Drew? Rejection hurts. But, like anything, it won’t last forever. I saw an ad recently that said a person should call a doctor if he has a rejection lasting more than four hours but that's neither here nor there. What's important is that we all know there are plenty of fish in the sea. For now, Drew and Chris will have to settle for just holding their rods.
Well, there it is. We’re halfway through the most dramatic whatever we call this ever. Weigh in via Twitter (FOLLOW ME) or in the Comment Section. Remember to send Lincee and me your ideas for our new blog section. In the meantime, if you need me I’ll be deciding if I love Desiree while packing for Antigua. DP