You know Mark Twain once said, “To get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with.” Of course, the same sentiment holds true when discussing marital property, but that’s not important right now. What IS important is that it’s Week 3 in Ben’s search for the woman who will probably become his conditional fiancé for an indeterminate period of time . . . maybe.
Hello, Readers. Welcome back to this week’s installment of my painfully mediocre recap of an even more mediocre show. Our Bachelor Ben has clearly shown himself to be a decent, thoughtful, and painfully patient guy (so far); however, I think we’d all like to see a little more edginess from our portending prince charming.
Regardless of his inability to shake things up in the Mansion, the women seemed to enjoy their fair share of drama this week. Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert) was far from Jubilant; Olivia was a study in Obnoxiousness; and Lace? Well, Lace Left.
I’m certain the overwhelming gravitational pull of unlimited, judgment free chardonnay and attention seeking sycophants back in her home town were too much to pass up in light of her poor showing over the past couple of weeks. More about all of that later, however. Like Olivia, I’m getting a tad ahead of myself.
Let’s get to it.
We begin with the standard drone-filmed reminder that we’re still wallowing in the L.A. cesspool awaiting the time when enough of the dead weight can be chopped like blubber from a beached whale in order to send the real meat across the ocean to an exotic location pre-chosen for it’s stunning vistas, it’s perfect love germination powers, and the finely sharpened S.P.I.N. selling skills of some underpaid and overworked event planner at whatever resort happened to have the sky suite and a case of Harrison’s favorite bourbon available the week he was free to film. Ahhh, grift. Sweet grift.
Now I know I’m delaying getting to the action; however, I’m certain that most of you missed the following statement made in an almost flippant manner by our Bachelor:
“I’m responsible for the emotions and feelings in this house.”
SGIA: (sip Lone Star while shaking head) “Dude, don’t put THAT on yourself.”
Mrs. SGIA: What? That’s sweet.
SGIA: There’s nothing sweet about that. He’s 26. He doesn’t know any better. That’s like him saying he’s responsible for the relieving the diarrhea and cramping outside of the local Chipotle. He can’t fix that mess.
I know we all remember when Juan Pablo left that drunk girl in the sh*tter and went back to his room for a good night’s rest before canning her in her hotel room the next morning. Hell, that was the only good choice he made all season and it stemmed from the fact that he was over 30 and had tried his hand at drunk girl pacification before. Ben? He’s 26 and from Warsaw, Indiana. He has a lot to learn in that category.
At the Mansion . . .
Lauren B. and Amanda discuss how Olivia claims to own $40,000 in clothing. We’d later learn that the great majority of that nut was spent on eye makeup and cankle-hiding garments. She still looks like Ricky Schroder when she takes off her make up. And not loveable, hanging out with Jon Voigt in The Champ Ricky Schroder. She looks more like the edgy NYPD Blue Ricky Schroder.
|I hate my toes and cankles.|
|Look, Champ. Olivia has bad toes and cankles.|
A cosmetic is a boon to every woman, but a girl’s best friend is still a near-sighted man. Incidentally, I have a very odd connection to Ricky Schroder. Remind me to tell that story sometime.
Harrison glides into the sunken living room in rolled cuffs to briefly wallow amongst the Lululemon spring collection.
“Big week”—not really
“I feel heaviness in room”—I don’t know why, the heaviest girl in the room is 108 pounds.
“3 dates: 2 one-on-ones and a group date”—now we’re talking.
Harrison out and undoubtedly to the ABC Payroll Department to pick up that fat check he just “earned.” I think we’d all agree that we’d take his job over ours.
Date Card: Lauren B. “The sky’s the limit. Ben.” I’m telling you, she’s a front runner now. I’m convinced. Unless she’s got some deep, dark secret like giant toes or she’s “struggled” to accept that God hates her and gave her cankles, she’s a top 3 finisher.
Simple is what he’s looking for and she’s very uncomplicated. Compare her to . . . oh, I don’t know . . . Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert), Lace, Olivia, Amber, or any of the others--save Becca--and she’s margarine next to hard butter. She’s got a better personality than Becca, she’s likely not a virgin, and she gets to fly for free whenever she wants to. Done. Deal.
They take a drive in “his” convertible with no scrunchy thing to hold her hair. Poor planning, ABC intern. She’s “so so so so so so excited but it’s also so scary to be with someone you like think you could be totally falling for.” A grammarian, she’s not.
She’s been on a lot of planes (she’s a stewardess, remember) but surprisingly she’s never seen a bi-plane. For crying out loud, she gets to work by walking through airports. Snoopy drove a bi-plane and so did Super Grover on occasion. You can’t convince me she’s never seen Peanuts or Sesame Street. That’s an odd thing to never see.
|I think I see Lauren B. down there.|
I won’t belabor the Jacuzzi in the middle of nowhere date other than to say congrats to the dude who dropped a new one of those off in the field and then a matching one off at Fleiss’s girlfriend’s house. The word “gratuitous” came to mind, but then again so did “capitalism” and “America.”
Solid work, Jacuzzi sales guy. Enjoy blowing that hefty commission check at Outback Steakhouse. Don’t waste your time with the Bloomin’ Onion. It’s intentionally huge and overfilling because the profit margin on it is so large. It’s easier to raise and kill an onion than a cow. They want you to eat it as an appetizer and order a smaller steak because the food prep costs on the steak are high. It’s the same reason buffets load the cheap food on the front end and move the expensive to the back. Don’t play their damn game. Skip the onion and order the porterhouse.
After dinner and a rose, Ben and Lauren B. hit a Barn Party. Lucy Angel—who is basically Olivia with a pop country band behind her --sings a medley of her greatest hit. This is why people say they hate “country” music. Lucy Angel? I suppose Jeffrey Osborn was booked.
. . . on the wings of love . . .
Back at the mansion, Caila laments the fact that she’s not been afforded the opportunity to properly identify a bi-plane. Was it me or do any of you agree that Caila looks a lot more Asian when she’s upset? She’s a good person but it was clear that she was emotional due to being over tired. Maybe give her a pacifier and pat her bottom a little after she finishes her milk. She'll sleep a few hours and then they can worry about getting her back on schedule.
Date Card: Amanda, Haley, Jennifer, Shushana, Leah, Amber, Lauren H., Olivia, Jami, Rachel, Lace, and Emily. “Love is the goal. Ben.”
Soccer date at L.A. Coliseum. An alternate colored v-neck is Ben's predictable attire. There was a sale on multicolored 4 packs of those somewhere near the mansion.
Sports have always been a big part of his life Ben tells us. Well, not soccer, but whatever. Lauren H. tells us that she has “zero ball handling skills.” The good news is that she still has some time to practice before Fantasy Suite week.
JoJo and Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert) feel sorry for each other back at the mansion. Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert) sees herself as “complicated” and Ben as attracted to “simple”. She’s very perceptive, albeit a huge buzz kill. She has more issues than she does visible tattoos.
Worst soccer game ever. The only thing I got out of the standard “Competition Date” was that one of the Haleys has better skin than the other Haley and that Shushana is strong enough to carry Rachel up a flight of stairs.
What, you didn’t think she was capable? Shush.
Ben arrives at the cocktail party in his Fonzie jacket. Olivia immediately asks for time alone. Good for her. Although, her anxiousness is quickly moving toward aggressiveness. Not a good idea.
I don’t know why the others can’t figure it out. Rather than being as assertive as Olivia, Amber, Lace, Jami, and one of the Haleys talk about Olivia’s big toes and simple chronic halitosis. “Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world,” said Marilyn Monroe. I suppose in Olivia’s case that would be a pair of close-toed shoes.
Clearly, that entire line of attack was fed to them by whoever had access to the "name three things you don't like about yourself" notes in Olivia’s casting file. We’ve all seen UnReal, right? Jami confides in Olivia about the loose talk amongst the others about Olivia’s bad toes and Olivia, clearly shaken (who among us wouldn’t be?), mentions her horrible struggle with . . .give me a second . . . cankles. Oh, the horror.
|"I've seen horrors... horrors that you've seen. . . It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror... Horror has a face... and that face is Cankles." --Col. Kurtz|
Amber got the Date Rose for some reason.
Date Card. Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert) becomes Jubilant. Becca and JoJo fail to realize that they’re Benless this week because he wants them around down the road.
Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert) gets ready for her date and brings down her green canvas army duffle bag just In case the Fat Guy in the leather hat who helped Roz pack her sh*t after she cheated on Jake Pavelka at his own cocktail party had to throw it in the van if the date didn’t work out.
She’s super nervous to the point of being weird. Awkward. The Bachelor-copter trashes the landscaping at the mansion and Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert) offers up her date to the other women in order to avoid her fear of heights.
She’s a little rough around the edges. Like broken glass on the bottom of a swimming pool rough.
I’ll paraphrase in the interest of brevity. Lord knows you’ve wasted enough of your employer’s time reading this.
“Hey, let’s play shuffleboard.”
“My family died, I’m the only one left, and I carry that guilt with me everywhere I go. It pervades every aspect of my life. Did I mention I'm honest and I don't sugarcoat anything?”
Wow. That was a bomb, was it not? Clearly (and understandably), Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert), has issues way beyond the scope of Ben’s ability to digest or fix them. Props to her for putting herself out there, but I think we all know she’ll be taking huge steps backward when Ben sends her home in a week or two. Bummer.
For now, she gets the Date Rose and didn’t have to listen to Lucy Angel in order to get it. That, indeed, calls for a jubilee (either the celebration or the flaming dessert, not the woman).
Then it got a little weird at the mansion. Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert), cried in the bathroom, Amber tried to make peace, Ben tried to sort it out but regretted it.
A foolish man tells a woman to stop talking, Ben. A wise man tells her that her mouth is extremely beautiful when her lips are closed. You’re welcome.
Exhausted and confused he sat down in exasperation. That’s what happens when you try to corral a room full of women in their early 20’s, Ben. Welcome to the party. They all grew up being told how special they are and being given a trophy whether they won or lost. Those spoiled chickens are coming home to roost.
Ben sighs. But wait, Lace wants some time to talk. His expression spoke volumes and so did hers. “A man’s face is his autobiography. A woman’s face is her work of fiction,” said Oscar Wilde. He certainly watches The Bachelor.
Poor timing, Lace. Asking Ben to engage in some needy relationship talk at that moment was like asking someone suffering a heart attack if they want to try bacon cheesburger you just made.
I will, however, give Lace credit for taking responsibility for “working on herself” as her reason for leaving. Of course, the cynic in me says she knew she was headed for the door if she stuck around for the Rose Ceremony and hightailed it to save whatever face she had left, but I’ll let my more optimistic self win this time.
Frankly, I respect her more than I did last week. I’m not sure if any of you caught it but she actually dropped, “like my tattoo says, you can’t love someone else until you love yourself.” Ben was relieved. Bullet dodged. He’d have made the same decision for her in about 10 minutes anyway.
Harrison shows up. Ding, ding, ding.
Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert)
Amanda (one more week without her kids)
The Other Haley
Olivia and her giant, malformed toes and calves
The Other Amber
Well, there it is. It looks like we’re headed for more crying and a little twin rivalry next week. Where will the stewardess stand? Will Jubilee (the woman, not the celebration or the flaming dessert) shank anyone in the ladies’ room? Will JoJo and Becca get to leave the mansion? And what color V-necks will Ben wear? So many questions.
Enjoy the rest of your week. Some Guy is off to South Beach for work. I’ve packed my white belt and my pastel colored sport coats. I’ll be back next week. Tweet me @someguyinaustin or comment below. In the meantime, if you need me I’ll be covering my cankles. DP