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Six weeks ago, I made the mistake of telling a girl that under no condition would I ever be devoting any time to The Bachelor/Bachelorette franchise. Apparently this girl put a little “We’ll see about that” hex on me because now here I am, giving my umpteenth update on the lives and times of the Bachelorette guys. Man, this sucks.
Anyway, long story short, the photo to the left is Fabrice, and yes, it was taken with my camera phone.
Mild Bachelorette spoiler after the jump…Now before you call me lame — er, actually, you probably did that already, didn’t you? Well, now that you have called me lame, I’ll explain. Saturday night was one of those random walk out the door, run into half a dozen reality star nights. You know what I’m talking about, right? No? Hmmm… Well, maybe I’ll just have to clarify.
A few of my friends and I wanted to go out on Saturday, but we weren’t exactly sure what we wanted. Lacking any sort of creativity, we simply meandered up to the Sunset Strip in hopes of excitement and/or trashy people watching. Our first stop was The Standard lounge. There we ran into Big Brother 5 stars Drew (and his twin, Ben) and Scott — who happily informed us that he was so wasted he couldn’t see straight. All right. Not bad. A little reality flavor to kick off the night. When we grew bored of the scene, we headed over to Chi — a miserable little spot whose only claim to fame is having Justin Timberlake as one of its investors. As we walked down the street towards the bar, we couldn’t help but notice a big, stocky guy in front of the famed Saddle Ranch Chop House. Indeed, it was Bolo from The Amazing Race 6. Turns out our favorite wrestling reality star now earns his keep as security for the bridge-and-tunnel bar. Sadly, he apparently wasn’t good enough to be the bar’s mechanical bull operator like John from Survivor Vanuatu or Blair from Road Rules. I guess Bolo didn’t match the “pasty white guy” job description.
The reality parade continued once we finally arrived at Chi as David from Real World: Los Angeles made a fleeting appearance. You may remember David from such controversies as getting spat on by Puck and rape. Even the most anti-reality member of my group had to admit this was getting a little crazy. Anyway, things at Chi were less than fascinating, and when the color coordinated couple next to us crossed the PDA line, we knew it was time to jet. Where to next? We decided it was time to stop the experimentation and just go to Boa, a highly frequented TVgasm spot.
Unfortunately, Boa had a little line outside and according to the bouncer, only people on the guest list could get in. WELL. It just so happens that we go to Boa all the time, and we weren’t going to let a small technicality like a “bouncer” or a “list” or “God” get in our way. Luckily, there’s a side door to the bar; so my clan went around, and as I mentally prepared to smooth talk our way in, Jordan Knight — late of New Kids on the Block and The Surreal Life — appeared out of nowhere and began talking to the bouncer at the side entrance.
Fortunately, since we descended on this door at exactly the same time as the former pop star, the bouncer erroneously assumed we were part of Jordan Knight’s posse and let us in. Good thing I wore my “I’m With Jordan Knight” T-shirt that night. As we waltzed into the bar, it became official: we had ridden the coattails of a reality star. At this point, we were all highly amused, but everyone agreed that the evening hadn’t quite reached TVgasm post status yet. Not even the random group of pornstars in the corner of the bar were enough to take this night to the next level.
After about five minutes of people watching/judging/mocking, I saw a guy walking around who seemed vaguely familiar. Probably just a local person I’ve seen on the street, I convinced myself. But then suddenly I felt a tugging on my sleeve. Turns out one of my friends, also known on this site as S. Lo, is an unabashed Bachelorette fan. “That’s Ben!” she squealed, referring to another guy in the bar. Sure enough, it was Ben from The Bachelorette. No sooner had she said that, I realized the guy I had vaguely recognized was also from the show (Michael, the one who said he likes spooning his dog). Huh. That’s odd. I began to add a few notches onto the reality star sighting tally, but before I could do that, it was like the floodgates opened, and soon all around us were the tall, drunken rejects from Jen Scheft. Yes, we had stumbled into a Bachelorette party.
To be fair, not all the guys were there (and neither were Chris Harrison or Jen Scheft for that matter), but about ten of them showed up. Of the ones that I recognized, there was Stu the stalker talking to Matt the, uh, other stalker. There was Keith the welder drunkenly stepping on S. Lo’s feet (he later almost spilled a drink on her. Needless to say, he was wasted), and of course there was reality chameleon Jerry who cavorted the night away with his bestest buds.
Current top three finalist Ryan was present — and drunk — and judging by the way he was making out with some girl at the end of the night, I think it’s safe to say he and Jen Scheft will not be the next lovebirds of reality TV. If you don’t believe me, just ask one of the 50 people who walked by them as they sucked face outside on Sunset Boulevard. Classy!
The truth is all these guys had packs of girls coming up to them all night long. At one point I was practically wedged between the bar and three girls who seemed all but ready to throw their bras at Michael and Ryan. I momentarily toyed with the idea of pretending like I were one of the Bachelorette guys (you know, that one from the first episode who got cut right at the beginning!), but then I realized that was amazingly pathetic. Besides, at 6 feet, I seemed to be about four or five inches shorter than the minimum height requirements for the show. Seriously, these guys were really tall. Well, except for Jerry. He was short. Sucker.
Oh, but I think I forgot someone… who could it be… maybe someone who was French… or maybe someone who we may have outed… hmmm… or maybe both… Ah yes! Fabrice. Good ole Fabrice. Yes, our man of ambiguous sexuality surfaced to partake in the evening’s activities, and as he strolled through the crowd, I couldn’t help but feel slightly bad knowing that we were the ones who had outed him… to the WORLD. Nevertheless, Fabrice (dressed dapperly in a shirt and tie) milled around quietly, but didn’t seem to be mixing well. None of the other guys really socialized with him, and Ryan even asked him why he was alone. Does that count as gay-acting? Eh, probably not.
Either way, this was a certifiable TVgasm moment, but alas, would anyone believe me? I’d need to get a picture. Unfortunately, the bar was so dark, I couldn’t just take a shot from afar (or even up close). If I wanted to get a picture of him, I’d need him to stand under one of the few lights in the room. Oh never mind, I thought. People will just have to take my word for it.
Luckily, TVgasm reader (and tipster) Spotdog was in my clique and ready to take action. I gave him my cell phone and wished him good luck. Spotdog walked up to Fabrice, introduced himself, and then asked for a picture “because my girlfriend just loves you.” Long story short, we now have a grainy photo to go along with this whole mess. I feel kind of badly for tricking Fabrice, but hey, technically he’s tricking us so… wow. It just occurred to me. I really need to get a life.