I promised — and I mean PROMISED—myself I wasn’t going to get sucked into the swirling public toilet that is The Bachelorette this season. I made this self-proclamation for two reasons: 1) Because a bunch of crazy women are WAY more fun to watch than a bunch of crazy men (which is why “Bachelor Pad” and “The Bachelor” are far more entertaining shows) and 2) I was fairly confident that Emily would make a three-day conference on composting seem exciting.
And then it came on and I saw lil’ miss Barbie sitting there on a park bench, looking up and off into the wild, blue yonder, blinking incessantly because the TV crew had probably set up a four million candlepower light pointing directly in her eyes and two dozen or so industrial fans to make her hair stand straight out and I. Was. Hooked.
Damn you, ABC.
As it turns out … Emily? Yeah, not as boring as I thought. I mean, I don’t know about you but I don’t think I could have handled meeting a man dressed up as an old woman, a dude carrying an ostrich egg, a guy with hair taller than Conan O’Brien’s, a bug-eyed dad and his glass slipper, and a electric green shirt-wearing boombox toting guido attempting to dance/distract from having a seizure without busting out laughing and/or vomiting. So, I am willing to admit I might have been wrong about her. But before I start giving her too many high fives I must remind both my readers that this is still the same woman who fell in love with Brad “Deluxe Velveeta Package” Womack. (Steee-rike.)
The premiere was classic first episode matchmaking TV with plenty of over-the-top arrivals (skateboard, helicopter, etc.), chest puffing (DJ Guido pulling off the incredibly unlikely task of somehow making this guy look like the lesser of two douches), an awkward profession of love through a medium (this time it wasn’t a poem or a song but a reenactment via bobble head dolls), and of course the proverbial “She doesn’t know what she’s missing” guy (played by Captain Abs).
In the end though, I got the feeling that I’m going to be pleasantly surprised by this season since Emily kept quite a few of the really terrible guys and punted a few decent seeming ones. I am really hoping the DJ wins so that he can keep running back and forth from his iPod to the dance floor on his wedding night, all out of breath, going, “You … guys are going to love … this next one!”
Check back next week for my synopsis of episode 2 after what I hope are several awkward, “Oh, so, wait … Ricki’s really staying with us in the fantasy suite?” moments.