|There's nothing Sa-wrong. I found love...sort of.|
Alright, Readers, let’s get right to it. For those of you who follow me on the Twitter, you’ll know that I’m all over the board on the big finale. I suppose I’m happy for our teary-eyed Bachelorette and our completely oblivious “winner.” Finding love is a good thing—even if it’s forced, temporary, and television-induced. Then again, all ice cream cones melt, don’t they?
On a positive note, I’m thrilled with Juan Pablo as the selection for the new Bachelor. Sure, he doesn’t read, speaks poor English, and it’s questionable if he’s gainfully employed but when in the hell has any of that mattered on this show? He looks good running down the beach and is willing to have himself filmed while showering 4 times per episode.
I’m certain that the only question--aside from the running and showering--that needs to be addressed is whether the guy has 60 days with nothing going on beginning in early November. The answer to that is, of course, Si. It’s on. Let’s make the most of it, shall we?
With a final Amazing Count at 170 (not including the Men Tell All) and the final Journey Count at a whopping 53 it’s been a record-setting season. For the statisticians in the audience you’re already aware that the Amazing count registers at 19 per episode and the Journey count comes in at 6 per episode.
The word “inane” comes to mind when I think about it. The good news is that Juan Pablo’s tenuous grasp on the English language will likely alleviate the all-too-frequent use of those two words. I’m sure we’ll be introduced to their Latin equivalents.
We begin part 2 of the most (insert provocative adjective) season finale ever in the history of season finales with (SIGH) a recap of part 1. Good Lord. I reviewed less material before I took the Bar Exam for crying out loud. We see Des crying (again), Brooks crying (again), Des getting dumped (again), and Des’ anguish juxtaposed against the quiet majesty of Antigua’s flora and fauna. Irony can be pretty ironic sometimes.
A refreshed Harrison arrives to play Twenty Freaking Questions with a puffy-eyed Desiree who is clearly over the tropical island and all of the bullshit. I suppose that falls under the “be careful what you ask for” chapter in Des’ secret Are You There God? It’s Me, Des Journal, but, unlike me, Harrison saw no need to step on her head while she was drowning.
By the way, don’t ask me how I know about that book. It horrifies me every time I think about it. I don’t want to discuss it . . . Period.
I realize that those of you old enough to appreciate the book are chuckling into your Kindle screens right now while the rest of you have simply moved on to the next paragraph. Frankly, that makes me chuckle into my MacBook Air screen. Annyyyhooo . . .
We retreat to the Lair of Seclusion.
OHCH: How ya doing today?
Des: I’m neither expressive nor amazing.
OHCH: Too bad. I had an AWESOME time at the beach party last night. There was this limbo show with some of the island chicks and then a donkey showed up and . . . Oh, I’m sorry. You must be devastated.
Des: It's ok, Chris. You’re expressive. I understand. I just want to go home. It’s just that Brooks leaving was such a surprise.
OHCH: Well, to you but not really to anyone else. Still, that has to hurt worse than an Antigua sunburn. When are you going to get around to dumping Drew and Chris?
Des: Oh them.
Des “great guys” Drew and Chris and Harrison breaks out the Bachelorette Bayonet and begins the jabbing. Drew is apparently the “sweetest guy in the whole wide world.” He’s so “expressive.” At that point, I was ready to express Lone Star through my nose. Des’ coral, silk maxi dress flows silently in the wind as she tries not to cry off her eyelash extensions. Over it, Harrison sets up what the team discussed in the pre-production meeting: the Rose Ceremony must go on.
With Rolls Royces on the way, Des retires to her Rapunzel tower to gather her thoughts. She meets Harrison at St. Anne’s Point. Never mind St. Anne's Point, I silently prayed Des would get to her own point as soon as possible.
Chris and Drew shake hands and congratulate each other on successfully forgoing the foreplay and taking care of business in the Fantasy Suite. They are, after all, real gentlemen. Harrison butts in and suppresses the desire to say “Y’all are not going to believe this sh*t,” before announcing Brooks' 'sudden' departure.
Des shows up. Chris knows something’s up. Drew thinks he knows something’s up. After a long, awkward pause Des drops “you might notice that Brooks isn’t here.” Yea, Harrison just told us that.
. . . and the second runner up is . . .
Dude, that was brutal. Both dudes get a rose and Drew slowly but certainly begins to realize that he’s going to need his carefully tailored sharkskin suit and matching vest for the AFTR rather than a tropical proposal. Chris wallows in denial.
Cut to Harrison back in studio for meaningless, time-killing banter with four brunettes, a middle-aged ‘blonde’, and some woman who looked like Taylor Swift on a Prednisone cycle. ABC had some cash lying around because Brooks and Des never rented their catamaran. They felt sorry for her so she gets two more ‘dates.’ Well, actually one pseudo-picnic to dump Drew and one catamaran date to decide if she’ll settle for Saget.
Am I the only one who thinks that's funny? Apparently.
Back to Antigua.
After last night’s Red Stripe and beef enchiladas I’m feeling very expressive this morning. I’m off to kick Drew to the curb and see if I can bring myself to pick Chris. I wonder if OHCH will give me a peek at the Neil Lane selection before I decide?
P.S. (I hate this. I just want to go home. Amazing.)
Des puts on her best face and attempts to stay on script. Props to her for realizing she was stuck with no choice but to play along. Drew shows up in purple shorts, powder blue boat shoes, and a t-shirt.
“Dude, is that the way you really want to go out,” I thought. He had to know he was getting canned. I would have showed up drunk and shirtless in a Speedo and flip flops. Where’s Zak when you need him for God’s sake?
They horseback ride and awkwardly converse down to the designated dump site. Des and her half shirt and karate pants drops, “I’d be so lucky to have you,” (say it with me) BUT…followed by a bunch of apologetic platitudes, a good luck, and a see ya later.
If Drew had any foresight he would have had a bottle of rum chilling in the ice bucket back in his room. Frankly, I’m not sure if he knew what to think. I couldn’t tell if he was sweating or crying.
Drew leaves the beach and secretly plans to fly to Chicago after getting Mikey T. and James’ cell numbers from Harrison’s top intern. There’s bound to be room on that boat for another dude and--if we believe the Mikey Brothers--there will be a collection of concupiscent co-eds in search of a recently released Bachelor awaiting his arrival.
If I were Drew (and believe me, Drew is no Some Guy) I would have headed straight to the bar. However, I’m not certain Drew and the word “straight” have an honest relationship at this point.
Alright, that was mean. I’ll own it. Drew was actually pretty cool about an obviously humiliating experience. Dare I say he handled it like a man? He didn’t cry and (as far as I could tell) didn’t call his mom crying from his limo or wander off on some profanity-laced tirade about being submarined or whatever. It was clear he loved Des and maybe that’s why acceptance trumped denial and sidestepped anger. Good for him. I’ve given him a hard time this season, but he seems nice enough.
Back to Des decked out in her best strapless bikini and black sarong.
We all know it’s so much easier to gather one’s thoughts without the burden of clothes. Des tells us that she was “very hoping to find love.” I was very hoping to not run out of Lone Star before hour three.
Chris arrives in a turquoise v-neck and puts on his best Make the Most of the Situation Face.
Chris: Well hello, funny face. What do you have planned?
Des: Oh nuthin’. Still wondering if you’re going to be here in 10 minutes. You want to go on a catamaran ride with me so I can think about how Brooks and I were supposed to go on the same catamaran ride before he derailed my dreams?
Chris: SURE, that sounds fantastic. Should I wear a cardigan?
Bless his heart, he did his best to act “normal” but trying to make out with Des under those circumstances was a really bad idea. That’s like the defensive end trying to spoon the quarterback on the field after the linebacker just took his head off.
They chat over fruity cocktails and “Expressive” becomes the new “Amazing.” Des begins to accept the idea that Option 2 is as (or more) viable as the no-longer-available Option 1 and she’ll likely never have to live in fear of Chris waking up one day and realizing he wants to move to New York, live in the West Village, and skip to work.
Confident, Des strolls over and knocks on Chris’ door. You’re in, Brooks is out. “Oooo,” I said aloud. “Chris might want to wait to watch the show before he talks to Neil Lane.” Des looked about as shaky as Bambi on ice. She’s still on the fence but won’t say it.
Chris: I’m technically the last guy you slept with, so there’s that.
Des: What rhymes with Expressive?
SGIA: Excessive. Move on.
Here is a picture of Bambi.
This is also a picture of Bambi.
Chris gets a begrudging invite to meet Des’ family (read: deal with her idiot brother). Chris gives Des yet another secret journal and Des tells us “Never in my life met someone like Chris.” Well, besides Brooks but he’s back in Utah. Where’s Dr. Jamie when she needs him? Lord knows he’s not still helping Womack.
Another secret journal? Top that off with the fact that he wrote 3 or 4 dedications and filled the thing with all of this season's poems he's been dragging us through and I began to understand the premise behind Fahrenheit 451.
Back in studio amongst the orchids and roses.
Bach alums and perpetual hangers-on Jackie, Lesley, Lindsay, Sean, and Catherine share their “expertise.” There hasn’t been so much time filled since the Big Bang—and I’m not referring to the Fantasy Dates. Why Harrison had to play Phil Freaking Donahue and interview these five is beyond me. Make the damn show two hours and mix in a rerun next time. Don't these people have jobs?
Jackie looked great. When Harrison asked her the Brooks vs. Chris question she dropped, “We drilled her pretty hard while we were there.” Yea, you and everyone else on the island, Jackie. Thanks for teeing it up for SGIA.
Goofy Lesley opines and it is abundantly clear that her new hair can’t cover up her quirkiness. I liked her on the show during Sean's season. Hopefully she’s worked on her emotional unavailability covered by awkward giggling and has found a fellow blossomed nerd with whom to share her quirkiness.
Lindsay talks. Ah, Lindsay. Still hot. Still vacant. I believe I could feel Catherine glaring at her off camera.
Nate the Ball Buster
Aren’t we all tired of Des’ brother? Des clearly was. Des was an emotional wreck. The last thing she needed was her brother’s shit. That apparently didn’t matter to Nate and his pirate outfit. How uncomfortable did she look during that exchange?
|How do you feel about my sister?|
Chris should have written a poem for Nate and given him a journal so Nate could capture his emotions.
NATE ANGRY. NATE HAPPY. NATE SUNBURNED. OW.
I assume Fleiss provided written assurance to Nate's Probation Officer promising to keep his passport in a really safe place prior to letting him leave the country. I was glad when that was over.
Cut to the standard “waking up” scenes and greeting the “most important day of their lives” on the balconies of their respective suites. Chris rolls down to the boat house for a tete-a-tete with Neil Lane (who still looks like Paul Anka).
It’s an Emerald cut, blah, blah, blah.
Neil Lane: Yes, I’d like to insure one emerald cut diamond ring.
Neil Lane’s State Farm Agent: Sure, for how long?
Neil Lane: 7 months.
The big proposal begins after the standard roasting in the sun by the flowers and the sea scene is dragged out indefinitely. Chris and Des talk about Brooks . . . and Drew . . . and she reassures him that she wants the Neil Lane ring . . . I mean she wants to marry him.
Finally, Chris drops to one knee and recites a painfully sappy set of canned comments about a life together, kids together, poems, puppies, butterflies, ice cream and some other stuff I couldn’t stomach before finally asking her to marry him.
The following conversation actually took place between the SLF and me:
Me: Aren’t you glad I didn’t do some stupid shit like that?
Thoughtful, Reflective Pause
Me: I bought you booze, a ring, . . . and a house.
SLF: (laughing) That should go in the blog.
So there it is. Chris and Des are officially engaged and out in public. I can’t say that I feel as sentimental as I usually do at the end of a long Bachelorette season. This is normally the place where I throw in a comment about making fun of the show but being really happy for the newly engaged couple and wishing them well. Frankly, I don’t believe it this time. I think Chris does love her but I think he’s ignoring the fact that she loved someone else right up until the point she told him she loved him. I think Des is settling for second place. Regardless, I hope it works. I reserve my cynicism and look forward to the ABC-sponsored wedding instead of the People Magazine-sponsored break up media blitz.
With that, we wrap up yet another season of the weekly escapism named The Bachelorette. I’m rooting for Juan Pablo and praying he’s not a one trick pony. Hopefully, the guy will be able to carry a season instead of boring me to tears in the first ten minutes of the opener.
As always, thanks to all of you for reading and for sticking with me. For those of you who’ll depart now, I hope you’ll come back in January. For those of you who’ll stick around in the off season, I have lots of great subjects to tackle. As I mentioned last week, Lincee (www.ihategreenbeans.com) and I will be doing a He Said, She Said series over the next few weeks. The first one is in the cannon and will be posted very soon. Send in your thoughts and ideas and shoot me a message on Twitter every now and then.
Take care of yourselves. In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be shopping for a skinny tie to match my sharkskin vest. DP