Alright, if you thought I was edgy last
week, you’re in for a treat. One of
these days I’ll be chipper. Today is not
one of those days. For those of you who
care, the reports of the utter destruction that Tropical Storm Bill is leaving
in its path in Austin are greatly exaggerated, thank God. I haven’t been this dry since my last hangover.
On the up side, Lake Travis is at 669
feet, or just 12 feet below full, which is its highest level in 5 years. It’s gone up over 35 feet in the last 40
days. That means all of the public boat
ramps are open again. That’s great for
me because it takes all of the keg-standing, pontoon boat renting, Ed Hardy
wearing, sunburned morons who have been forced from Lake Travis due to the lack
of public access to party on Lake Austin in the cove within earshot of my house
every weekend back out to where they belong.
If I heard that stupid Avicii song one more time my head was going to
explode. “Wake Me Up” is exactly what that song did—every Saturday.
And yes, I’m well aware that I’m one step
away from being the guy who sits in his driveway with a shotgun like Walt
Kowalski in Gran Torino yelling at
everyone to get off of his property. I’ve
embraced that role. You should support
me. Just do it within a respectable
distance from my property.
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| Get off my lawn. |
A few points before we get to the
recap.
First, I started this season really
liking Kaitlyn. I was hopeful that she
would blossom like a heel blister inside of a pair of ill-fitting ice skates
once she was chosen over that unhygienic fraud she was unjustly thrown up
against.
She was attractive (enough),
fun, and up for anything. She reminded
me of a quirkier version of her Canadian counterpart, Jillian, with bird
tattoos on her arms and a tiny nose piercing.
However, I’ve lost faith in her at this point.
Has she actually had any fun this
season? Aside from taking almost
sadistic pleasure at the public humiliation (sumo wrestling, mariachi outfits,
rap contests) of the guys she’s supposed to respect as potential husbands she
hasn’t had much time to do anything but (poorly) address the drama that,
frankly, she’s responsible for creating.
I haven’t seen so many guys jump ship since I watched Titanic in 1997.
To be fair, the guys who have melted down
(The Drunk Guy, Kupah, Ian, Clint) have shown themselves to be anger-ridden
jerks with huge chips on their shoulders, so one could make the case that her
“method” has been effective. Unfortunately,
I don’t think she deserves that much credit.
Finally, and then I’ll conclude my rant,
I’m very unimpressed at how she’s handled the “Nick Situation.” The closest she came to “look, I’m the
Bachelorette and it’s my decision (along with the Producer who can ruin my life
if I breach my contract) to invite Nick here,” was pinning the rose on him this
week after Joshua made the mistake of all Bachelorette-related mistakes by
trying to rat Nick out for not being there for the right reasons. Even then, she was huffy and disrespectful.
It’s clear that every one of the guys is over
it. It’s just a matter of time before
they direct their frustration at her rather than the circumstance or some other
dude.
Let’s get to the big show.
Oh yea, we’re still in New York. Does anyone like this new “To Be Continued .
. .” format with the cliff hanger at the end?
If this would have happened in Juan Pablo’s season, I would have sworn I
was watching a telenovella on the Spanish channel. Los Pendejos de Amor would be an appropriate title.
Nick shows up after wearing out the soles
of his Chuck Taylor Converse shoes from wandering around lower Manhattan for
two weeks like Helen Keller on her way from the living room to the kitchen. He’s happy.
No one else is happy.
Joshua shows his distaste verbally by
making an indignant distinction between Nick’s characterization of Kaitlyn as a
“Cool Chick” versus the (presumably preferential) “Amazing Woman.”
Frankly, that’s a semantic distinction
without a difference as far as I’m concerned unless, of course, Nick was actually
referring to the temperature of Kaitlyn’s body which, at this point, is a
viable explanation. Regardless, Joshua
seemed pretty proud of himself. Total
burn, Nick. Total burn.
Ryan chooses a more passive/aggressive
method of demonstrating his vitriol toward Nick by wearing an infinity scarf
left over on the women’s racks in the ABC Wardrobe Department in order to
metaphorically demonstrate the cold reception that Nick deserves for showing up
a few weeks in and trying to bed an attractive woman just like the rest of
them. It’s all in the timing, I
suppose. If you ask me, their anger is
misdirected.
Fake Gosling came as close as anyone
(save Ian) to being mad at her rather than Nick. Finally, a guy who sort of
gets it, I thought. However, let’s couch
that thought until we see how far Fake Gosling makes it on his journey. It was, however, refreshing to see an inkling
of logic actually escape unencumbered by the blinding testosterone in the
room.
Suit stampede. Cocktail party. Citifield.
Home of the Mets. Kaitlyn is feeling
anxious and looks sluttier than she has in the past. She still pretends she’s concerned about
anyone’s feelings but her own. J.J., who
apparently borrowed Tyrion Lannister’s suit pants, shows us his pink socks while
carrying Kaitlyn around the bases. I
found that ironic considering the fact that Nick is the only guy who’s going to
get to every base (including home) with Kaitlyn in the next few weeks.
Justin, Jared, Chris all have roses. It’s good to know Jared doesn’t have to take
it on the chin this week.
Tanner douches out and tries to rat out
Nick. Joe Dirt (he’s my favorite, by the
way), and Joshua pow wow about how they can’t stand Nick. The biggest difference between those
two—other than the Forrest Gump accent—is that Joe Dirt’s reaction to Nick’s
presence was appropriately proportionate.
The Joshua Train is headed for certain derailment.
Fake Gosling lays it out and elicits an
insecure “Do you trust me?” from Kaitlyn.
The only appropriate response to that question is a very direct
“No.” However, Fake Gosling goes with
the more innocuous, but certainly just as effective, “I’m not seeing you act
like what you’re telling me.” Solid
work, Fake Gosling. Whatever gets the
job done. He’s as honest as he can be
and scored some points. He might be the
guy standing next to Nick at the end if he sticks around after her one night
stand.
Kaitlyn tees up the Rose Ceremony while sitting
in the men’s locker room. For those of
you old enough to remember, the only thing I could think of while watching that
was a certain scene in the early 80’s movie Porky’s. Shame on me.
Sub-zero Rose Ceremony
Justin
Jared
Chris
Ben H.
Ben Z.
Shawn
Tanner
Joe Dirt
Ian
J.J.
Joshua
Nick
Gone Girl
Corey
Jonathan
Ryan (and his scarf)
We’re headed to San Antonio, Texas to
visit the St. Anthony Hotel on the Riverwalk where it is virtually impossible
to find a place to eat without the word “taco” in it. I’ll spare you the full Texas history lesson
but San Antonio was a Spanish settlement that eventually became the center of
the Texas Revolution during the battle of the Alamo. It was not, however, where the Texans made
their last stand according to Princeton-educated and superior-to-all-of-us
Ian. The Battle of San Jacinto is
actually where Texas finally won its independence from Mexico. I guess they don’t teach that at his fancy
Ivy League college.
Date Card: Ben H.
Let’s take our love one step at a time.
Gruene Hall. Two step lessons.
Alright, my worlds really collided on
this one. I’ve known Dale Watson and his
Lone Stars since 1992 and I’ve been going to Gruene Hall for at least as
long. Not only that but Dale has a
following in and around Austin. All of
the same people go to his shows because he plays songs everyone can dance
(two-step, waltz, polka) to. I can
rattle off his weekly schedule around town.
The point is that I actually knew many of the people in the crowd,
including the two people who won the big dance contest. In fact, when Lincee (www.ihategreenbeans.com) Ray was in
town to see Harrison, we actually hung out with them at a local honky
tonk. Very odd. Annyyhhooo . . . .
If you’re interested, one of the first
dates the future Mrs. SGIA and I went on was to see a Willie Nelson show at
Gruene Hall.
Ben was a good sport on the date and
seemed to overcome at least one of his two left feet enough to impress Kaitlyn. Peter Brady earned his rose. For the record, he may be a top 4 guy but I
don’t think he’s manly enough to out-Alpha male Fake Gosling or Ben Z.
My only disappointment was that they went
back to San Antonio to have dinner on the roof.
About a quarter mile down the road is the Guadalupe River that runs
behind Gruene Hall. It’s beautiful. It looks like this.
The Gristmill and the Gruene River Grill
sit on its banks. I wonder why they
didn’t eat there. My final thought about
the date is that I was glad to see that they didn’t make them dress up like
“cowboys” or whatever and mock the locals; rather, they had them blend in. I appreciated them not mocking several of the
things I love about Texas. The mariachi
date is another issue.
Date Card: Justin, Jared, Ian, Chris, Tanner, Joe, J.J.,
Ben Z., Joshua, Nick. I love a man in uniform.
For those of you who blocked this out,
this was the humiliating mariachi date in Market Square. Again, so many great local places to go
there. If you’re in the neighborhood Mi
Tierra restaurant and bakery was where the mariachi kid sang. They have a great bar.
How over it did all of the guys
look? Joe Dirt starts drinking early
when he finds out he’s going to have to humiliate himself in another language
this week. Granted, his stick and
berries wouldn’t have to hang out in public this time, but that hat looked
ridiculous.
Cocktail party in a barn after Nick
stokes the fire with inflammatory lyrics in his Mexican serenade. He’s either oblivious to the situation or he
doesn’t care. Perhaps it’s both.
She gives Joshua a stupid haircut. Yawn.
I’m not sure what the point of that was and neither was Nick. He scores another make out session in his
gray skinny jeans. Presumably, his
mustard ones either clashed with his cardigan and infinity scarf of they were
just in the wash.
Kaitlyn shows up in some American
Indian-esque suede fringe skirt. What
look was she going for, Pork-a-hontus?
Joshua becomes the latest ill-equipped
debater challenge Nick. Remember when
meathead Cody tried that in Andi’s season?
It didn’t end well for Cody then and it didn’t end well for Joshua
now. It’s amazing how effective
rationality and logic are a deflecting knuckleheads. Like Kaitlyn, I had such high hopes for
Joshua but he’s losing it. Nick has
clearly gotten into his head.
Having not learned his lesson, Joshua
tries again to undermine Nick by talking to Kaitlyn’s face about it. Hey Joshua, there’s another part of her
anatomy you should have had that discussion with. Her brain has nothing to do with why Nick is
sticking around like filth to a truck stop restroom wall. How many times is a contestant going to make
that mistake?
Katilyn shows up to clean house, drops
Joshua in the grease, and after letting him fry for a while, gives a Date Rose
to Nick. I’ll give her credit. That was Solid. Total burn, Joshua. Total burn.
Justin shakes Nick’s hand. Stand up move.
Shawn one on one. She shows up half-naked and he shows up
dressed like he’s ready to mow the lawn.
Are we in for rowing in a pond filled
with swans? Building furniture? Painting
naked in a hand-crafted studio? Nope,
we’re going to the Riverwalk . . . to kayak.
Let me share something with you non-Texans. There wasn’t one person watching in Texas who
didn’t put down his or her beverage of choice and wrinkle his or her brow in
disgust at the site of those kayaks in the San Antonio River.
That waterway is disgusting. Sitting in that water is like sitting in that
rat-infested underwater river cage that the NVA put Robert DeNiro and
Christopher Walken in when they were captives in The Deer Hunter. In fact,
you have a better chance of surviving a round of Russian Roulette with
Christopher Walken than you do of not getting a disease from the water in the
San Antonio River. It’s dirtier than
Ke$ha.
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| Let's go kayaking in the San Antonio River |
Shawn tells his car accident story. She buys it.
So much so that the “L” word is thrown around. “Love” not “Lame” just to
clarify. He gets the Date Rose. Nice work, Fake Gosling. They take a late night canoe ride similar to
what Allie and Noah did in The Notebook except there are fireworks instead of
disease-infested swans.
Ian is forelorn.
He melts down.
“I’m the next Bachelor.”
“I don’t find Kaitlyn interesting.”
“She’s not half as hot as my
ex-girlfriend.”
“I
am an enigma and who I am is who you unwrap for life.”
“I’m on a vacation from life.”
“I came here for love, not fart and poop
jokes.”
“I’m so much better than that.”
“I was expecting the girl who got her
heart broken by Chris Soules not the girl who wants her field plowed.”
“You’re here to make out with guys on
TV.”
AAAANNNND . . . the Nail in the Coffin,
“I see you as nothing more than a surface level person.”
Boom.
That should do it for Ian.
Arrogant? Yes. Judgmental?
Certainly. Elitist? Without a doubt. True? Substantially. That has to sting.
But we’ll have to wait until next week to
see how much. . .
Well, there it is. Week 6.
We’re one week closer to The Big Bang.
I can’t wait. Take care of
yourselves. In the meantime, if you need
me, I’ll be unwrapping my enigma while kayaking in filth. DP













