Last season’s The Bachelorette introduced us to puppy-eyed Ben—the man who fears he’s unlovable (despite the fact that he’s twenty-six, 6’4”, and devilishly handsome) because he’s (gasp) still single.
He’s “just a normal guy” searching for a wife who supports his “hometown values,” and unlike his predecessors, he won’t be making out with a bunch of hot, drunk chicks. At least not right away. Ben “will be guided by faith.” Since this is the land where chardonnay flows and hot tubs are heavily disinfected, I suspect that “Faith” must be what he calls his penis.
Sure, he’s sappier than a thawing maple in March, but I find myself hoping that Ben finds his wife among the twenty-eight women that the folks at ABC thought would be good for ratings, including: identical twins, a “chicken enthusiast,” a war veteran, and a foul-mouthed cowgirl with a mini-horse in tow.
We saw the usual cocktail party shenanigans in this episode: barrels of wine consumed, Ben getting passed around like tiny shoes at a baby shower, and the confidence of grown-ass women dipping lower than Nicki Minaj’s booty. Archetypes emerged: single mom, mean girl, weirdo, prom queen, crier, and producer’s dream girl. Twenty girls received roses, and eight were asked to collect their abandonment issues and leave.
Mean girl Lace spent the entire night death-gripping a wine glass, passing judgment on everyone, and using timid, insecure “Red Velvet” to prop her up like a human push-up bra. The highlight was when she went all bunny-boiler on Ben because he didn’t look at her during the rose ceremony. Ben was all “What the H.E. Double Hockey Sticks? I gave you a rose!” and rushed off to his mansion, presumably for a little alone time with Faith.
Two hours of quality television and half three quarters of a bottle of wine later, I’m a better mom. Tonight’s episode was ripe with life lessons:
1. If you think you need to don a unicorn head or beat the crap out of a baguette to get someone’s attention, look a little deeper within.
2. Your relationship status has no bearing on your “loveability.” Single people are delightful. They’re almost always available for brunch or to help rearrange your living room.
3. Take responsibility for your choices. If you choose to leave your job as a small-town news anchor to get your face in front of twenty million viewers every week, you have no right to guilt trip the man you’re pretending you want to marry.
4. Never lose perspective. If you just passed the bar exam, quit blubbering into another woman’s cleavage because a man you just met might like someone else.
5. Speaking of which, less cleavage please. You’re someone’s daughter.
At the end of the show, Ben—dizzy and confused from the scent of Summer’s Eve and hangry females—proclaims, “I have a feeling the drama is just getting started.” Well, duh, Ben. Just keep it coming. The children are counting on you.