Emily Bachelorette Episode 8: DP Returns

Hello, Readers.  I’m certain that those of you who are left are wondering if I’ve chosen to divorce Tom Cruise and go into hiding for the past 3 weeks.  I won’t belabor my absence or the incredible feeling of regret that’s been sticking to me like Ryan’s undersized Euro undershirt since I last posted.  Just know that this blog is the source of much joy in my life and missing it—in a word—sucks huge balls. 

Crude analogies aside, DP is back.  This week’s plan is to recap primarily Episode 8 and add sprinklings of my thoughts from Episodes 6 and 7.  All kidding aside, I’m glad to be back.  Thank you for hanging in there with me.  Now, with the Amazing count at 63 the Journey count at 12, let’s (finally) get to it. 

It’s Hometown Week—or as I like to refer to it, Runner Up in the I Get to Bang Emily Next Week Contest Week.  Arie, Chris, Jef, and Sean remain.  “Great,” I thought, “a Dutch guy, a Polish guy, a Mormon, and an Aryan from Dallas.  Little Ricki will be thrilled.”  As always, before we start jumping on planes in search of overbearing moms, judgey sisters, and adequately concerned older brothers, we have to recap Emily’s arduous path through the forest to the doorstep of love and happiness with either a Dutch guy, a Polish guy, a Mormon, or an Aryan from Dallas. 

Back in Charlotte Emily hits the limo in her least terrifying skull shirt and comes home to her free house to see Little Ricki who apparently supervised while ABC interns created a big “Welcome Home” sign.   She's “regrouping and reminding herself what's important.”  Granted, a child is the perfect person to “regroup and remind” with, but we get it:  She’s a mom and she cares about her daughter.  These segments, while authentic, are boring.

Emily asks Little Ricki, "want to sleep in my bed tonight," to which I replied with a resounding "Hell yes," while taking a hearty pull off a freshly cracked Lone Star beer.  If I was that kid, I’d breast feed until I was at least 16 or 17.  Wishful thinking, I suppose. I was waiting for Little Ricki to bust out "Mommy, how many men did you sleep with after you stuck me on a plane and sent me home with my over-permissive nanny and the lowest ranking members of the Production crew?"  Perhaps that was edited out in the interest of brevity. 

Emily recaps her “relationships” with the guys and all of the stupid crap they did together.  Chris is wonderful and Jef has "an edge." An edge?  Right.  He looked really edgy in that powder blue sport coat with the suede elbow pads and skinny jeans. He's about as edgy as an oval.   We get some canned shots of Arie ignoring her rhinestone shorts and the “I love you,” as early as he can.  Solid plan.  Sean took time off from his Dolph Lundgren stunt double duties and continues being being beefy and sincere, albeit the most emotionally cautious of the bunch.   Emily tucks Little Ricki into her free bed in her free house and heads to the Charlotte airport for her free trip to Chicago. 

CHRIS IN CHICAGO

Emily arrives in Chicago to meet this season’s biggest cry baby, Chris.  He didn’t exactly do a lot to dispel Big Hug Doug’s assertion that he’s an immature pansy last week, did he?  The guy came on strong on date one and has ended up flatter than whatever the Polish word for pancake happens to be.  Emily pretends to look past that in her black coat, ivory scarf and red bell bottom jeans.  I think it was apparent from the first “I’m Polish, lower middle class, and still 25 years old,” that there’s no way she’s packing all of the free shit she owns and hightailing it to Chicago with her well-adjusted daughter for that.  His family seemed lovely, but that house is no giant ranch in Utah. 

Unfortunately for Chris the only pole she's interested in sure as hell doesn’t come from Warsaw and it sure as hell doesn't belong to Chris.   Incidentally, did you hear that they closed down the soccer stadium in Warsaw?  Apparently, the view from every seat was obstructed by a Pole (It’s good to be back).

Chris tells us that he doesn't like that "unsure feeling." Translation: I suffer from a desire to control everything.  He's also an admitted mama's boy.  We all knew this wasn’t a good fit.   Regardless, they head out to Chris's parents' house in the suburbs. John and Rose greet Emily along with Chris’ sisters, The Judgey Renee and the Passive Teresa.

They exchange pleasantries as Chris’ dad stares and Emily as the Polish words for "Smoking Hot" go through his head.  Dad doesn’t exactly give his only son a ringing endorsement when in response to Emily’s question about Chris being a father to Little Ricki, he responds, "He'll do his best.”

I'm pretty sure General Custer did his best with all of those Indians and we all know how that turned out. Come to think of it, the Poles did their best against the Germans in 1939 and that didn't turn out so well either.   Props to Emily for turning the Q&A around on dad.  That trick would also work on Arie’s hag of a mother later in the show. 

Chris tells us that his mom is "the best mom in the world." Uh, don't forget about Emily, Chucklehead.  Lucky for him, Emily was preoccupied with the Judgey Sister Renee when that little gem was uttered.  Sister Renee uses a fake smile but busts Emily's metaphorical balls giving her the "end it quickly" speech.  With all of the ABC hometown boxes checked on the production schedule, we head to the latticed patio for some traditional Polish music and dancing.  That part actually looked fun. 

My thoughts?  Look, Chris is a decent, educated guy even though he’s whiny and immature.  He’s apparently from a close, middle class, ethnic family that places a value on relationships and hard work.  That’s a pretty good start in life and it’s certainly more than a lot of people have.  He needs a few years to ripen and some nice Polish girl will enjoy heating up his Kielbasa for many years to come.  Emily is not Polish.  Next date.     

JEFF IN UTAH

I think I speak for all of you when I say.  HOLY SHIT.  That was certainly my reaction when I saw Jef’s little family get away in St. George, Utah.  “That should help his chances,” I thought. Yea, she's really not going to Chicago now. That was an incredibly smooth (and admirable) move keeping that little secret under wraps.  However, I think one of you sent me an article that Jef knows Michelle Money who knows Jef’s brother who knows some dude who sort of knew Emily who once saw Chris Harrison urinating in an Oklahoma City mens’ room in college who told Emily that the guy was loaded before the show.  You get the picture.  I’m sure Reality Stan or whatever that guy’s name is knows the story.  The point is that while I like to believe Emily had “no idea” that the family is loaded, my thought is that she did know.  Regardless, minus the haircut and the skinny jeans, I like Jef.  

They begin with a buggy ride through the brush before trying their aim at a trap shoot. Jef impresses Emily with his shotgun marksmanship and manages to work in the word "cock" with a straight face. She's not exactly dressed for shooting, but she does well.  Nice work, Jef.  They should have named that place “The Close the Deal Ranch.”   

Emily meets brother Steve, his wife and kids, and the remaining siblings, Mike, Melissa, and Julie but not the parents.  They are apparently off in South Carolina buying rustic furniture for their giant ranch house or something.  Emily sports her Mockingjay earrings a la Katniss Everdeen and it’s apparent that she’s a bit intimidated by the entire Mormon clan.   

After a lemonade toast, Big Brother Steve drops, if Jef "jumps into being a father," on Emily.  She needed to hear that, I just thought it was delivered a bit harshly.  Then again, why beat around the sagebrush?   Steve talks, and talks, and talks while looking at Emily as the Mormon words for "Smoking Hot" go through his head.

Emily has a sit down with Jef's sisters as they talk over each other and Emily does a wonderful job at being polite and not judging their stretch pants. She turns the table and asks the “is Jef ready” question.  Again, nice job on her part shifting the focus.  She’s obviously up on her job interview skills—ironically.  Jef's sister---the one that looks like Ashlee Simpson, not Miss Piggy--grills her some more before Emily diffuses the entire situation by scoring points with the kids.  Ovaries fire indiscriminately and estrogen soothes the women’s worries.  Emily is in. 

After running the gauntlet Emily appears relieved and Jef takes her up to his secret spot and reads her a bunch of stuff he made up on the plane. She buys it.  Huge.  He laid it on thick and kept laying it on and it worked.  She might as well have been a hungry catfish and that letter might as well have been a giant hook with stink bait on the end of it. Nice work, Jef. He totally deserves another "F."  Come to think of it, he might very well get “F’d” in the Fantasy Suite next week.  Annnyyyhoooo . . .

ARIE IN SCOTTSDALE

We all know that Emily is from NASCAR country so I wasn’t incredibly optimistic that Arie’s check out my F1 car stunt would carry as much weight as he hoped it would.  Then again, the last time Emily fell for a guy in a racing suit, she ended up knocked up. The car was a nice touch but let’s face it, it's not giant ranch in Utah. Still, she’s been into Arie since night one and she seemed comfortable exploring his pole position.  Emily wears red heels to the standard pre-warning about my bitchy mother picnic as Arie describes his parents as "so European."  Translation:  My dad is weird but harmless and my mother is possessive and rude. 

Arie takes a sufficiently scared Emily to meet his Dutch family. We meet Arie, Mieke, Luke, Alec, Mida.  The twins reminded me of Jeremy Irons’ characters in Dead Ringers and the Mom was dressed like Crystal Freaking Carrington. I looked extremely hard for wooden shoes and fanny packs, but it wasn’t clear if they were wearing either.  Wooden shoes are tradition in Holland and fanny packs, of course, were invented to promote Dutch tourism. 

We learn that Arie’ parents honeymooned in Charlotte before the entire family starts talking in Dutch. Emily was visibly—and understandably---uncomfortable considering that the closest she’s been to a bunch of foreigners talking about her in their native language is at the local nail salon close to her free house in Charlotte. 

Emily talks to mom who, oddly enough, looks like a 60 year old version of Emily minus a few nips, a lot of tucks, and a two pack a day habit.  There’s more pressure in that room than in a Dutch oven but Emily again makes a brilliant save by turning the spotlight on mom and getting her to talk about Arie.  Nice work.   Emily has a chat with Dad as he stares at her and the Dutch words for “smoking hot” bounce around in his head.   Arie drops, "Emily and I's relationship,” and I sighed into my Lone Star.  Unfortunately for him, the family is not a good fit for Emily and—most importantly—for Little Ricki.  It’s a damn good thing the ranch in Utah is still an option.   

SEAN IN DALLAS

Cut to a beefy Sean walking his dogs near White Rock Lake in Dallas.  Make those dogs Dobermans or German Shepherd and he might as well have been goose stepping around the Champs Elysee for crying out loud.  If Hitler was around today, he’d be rooting for this guy to win.  Incidentally, my college roommate--the infamous Lenny--lives 5 minutes from there.  I’ll have to inquire if he’s ever bumped into Sean’s biceps while attempting to jog around the lake. 

Emily arrives in cork wedges and a very patriotic dress and they pick wild flowers.  Sean gives her the I won't bang anyone until I’m married speech but I’m not sure that did anything to improve his chances.  After all, Emily can't exactly pretend to be a virgin. I suppose she could try, but he doesn't appear to be that dumb.

After the walk around the appropriately named “White Rock Lake,” we head to Colleyville—a classic Dallas suburb and we get a real taste of why Sean is, well, Sean. His lily white family anxiously awaits his arrival dressed like a bunch of Easter eggs. We meet the brother, Sherry, Jay, Shae, Andrew, and the very Dallasy-named children, Kensington and Smith. One of the little brats had a freaking cottage named after herself. That place was nicer than my college apartment for crying out loud. Emily drops the producer suggested word "perfect" a million times before falling for his pathetic I still live at home joke.  Whatever. 

Dad eventually talks to Sean about Emily as the words for "smoking hot" went through his head—probably in German. After a relatively vanilla meeting with the vanilla family, the producers spice things up a bit by having Sean run through the neighborhood to track down Emily’s limo in search of that one last kiss.  She drops a "honey" on him and I couldn’t help but notice that she never used pet names on the others.  That might be just enough to get past that ranch in Utah.

HARRISON IN LA.

Let me just say that I’m well aware of the accusations in the media this week that Harrison has a thing for Emily.  Let’s face it, a lot of men have a thing for Emily.  In fact, there are probably a lot of men who regularly play with their thing while thinking about Emily.  Despite his elevated television status, I don’t think Harrison is any different. Perhaps I’ll post on “why” toward the end of the season, but let me say that it’s far more than just the way she looks.  If you look at my first post this season, you’ll see that I noticed a bigger twinkle in Harrison’s eye.  I’m not sure if there’s something going on, but it wouldn’t surprise me.   

Emily meets with Harrison for the bookend recap of the hometowns. She's extremely empathetic. Empathy is not a quality that many people possess in spades.  With that ability comes the gift of being able to read people’s actions before they happen in addition to being able to enjoy their highs and experience their lows as if they hers.  It’s a gift and a curse.  Sympathy or compassion is one thing, but she clearly feels for the guy she's about to kick to the curb and I think that is one quality that makes her likable. After the powwow, she and Harrison exchange a very careful glance and a even more careful hug.  Hmmm.  She hightails it to the Rose Ceremony to dump the unsuspecting Pole.   

Rose Ceremony.

1. Arie

2. Jef

3. Sean

Gone.

1. Chris

Everyone but Chris saw that coming down Wacker Drive. The body language on the Limo Walk was brutal. Silence. She gives him the faster and deeper speech and does a great job of dealing with his semi-tantrum.  Next week we head to Curacao where Emily will undoubtedly give the guys a different version of the faster and deeper speech.  She’ll undoubtedly head to the doctor for her annual well-woman exam prior to boarding the plane for the Caribbean.  It’s doubtful her gynecologist will clear her for sex with three men in one week.  Let’s hope that her dentist doesn’t’ feel the same way.  I hope she brings those white shorts. 

It’s good to be back.  Thanks again for waiting.  I hope it was worth it.  Until next time, take care of yourselves.  In the meantime if you need me, I’ll be ranch shopping in Utah.    DP

Emily Episodes 6 & 7 Updates

Hello, Folks. I appreciate the support but do confess that I owe all of you an apology for missing last week's post. I'm in Waco, Texas all week working on that death case I alluded to in my other excuse of a post. Without elaborating, I've been unavoidably preoccupied professionally for the past few weeks in addition to the mountiain of personal goings on in Some Guy's life.

In short, balance is elusive these days and I'm certain that the limited amount of balance this blog interjects into your day from time to time is sorely lacking from your lives. For that, I'm regretful. I appreciate your patience and the show of support--both on the blog and via email--that most of you have shown. For those of you who haven't been as supportive, I suppose there's a big part of me that understands the hostility. Tell you what. I'll forgive you if you'll forgive me.

The good news is that I've allotted some time to amalgamate my notes from Episodes 6 & 7 into a rudimentary post and I'll be carefully sculpting that material like Ryan sculpts his ridiculous pseudo beard. Granted, it won't take me three hours to complete that project, but the metaphor is fresh, so what the hell?

I'll be commenting on that as well as the ridiculous t-shirt he wore to lounge around the Man Suite before his date. After very careful analysis, I'm not entirely convinced that the shirt wasn't a onesie he got in the husky toddler's section at Baby's 'R Us. I swear that thing has snaps in the crotch. Annnnyyyyhooo . . . You'll be hearing from me in earnest shortly.

Thank you again from the top of my head to the bottoms of my turquoise loafers for checking in. For what it's worth, I miss y'all too.

DP

Emily Episoide 6: Confession

Hello, Readers.  I have to confess that I've been traveling for work in addition to moving into a swanky new pad here in Austin, Texas.  Since I just got my cable back on Tuesday, I haven't even watched the show.  That's a first in blog history.  I will watch and write tonight, although you're all likely to be Bacheloretted out by the time I post.  I'll post as soon as possible.  Remember, time flies like the wind but fruit flies like bananas. 

DP

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

Bachelorette Episode 4: Ryan Loves Doug

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