The Bachelor: Beg for Attention

Who’s ready for more adventures with the sexiest pile of rocks on the planet??

“Huh?”

Let’s get started. First off, let me say that if feels like forever since this season started. I’m a little late on the re-cappage because I was finishing up on Sarah Palin’s monster finale. Now that I don’t have that ruining my life anymore, I can focus on Brad and his efforts to start a super Aryan family. Because, let’s face it, that’s where he’s headed.

After the mandatory intro in which Brad flagellates himself once again for not picking a bride the last time he was on The Bachelor and having to come back for a paid sex vacation that will make him famous, we meet up with the “ladies” in the Malibu mansion where they’re having champagne and Chris Harrison is making oodles of money explaining to them how the game — I mean show — works. Blah, blah, blah, if you go on a date and get a rose you’re staying. If you don’t get a rose you go home immediately. Blah blah blah. Final rose ceremony for those who didn’t go on individual dates. Chris leaves them with a card that reveals who will get the first date.

“I just made about $500,000. Who wants to sleep with me?”

Domestic Violence Chantal — the woman who slapped Brad when she met him, but didn’t get kicked off the show — grabs the card and prepares to read it. Melissa, the 32-year-old waitress, is really ready to get this done after quitting her waitressing job and spending all her tips on brand-new ugly dresses and a cheap boob job.

“I so badly want Brad to get to know me,” she tells us, the smell of desperation rolling off of her in waves. Tone it down lady. Men are like bees. They can smell your fear of spinsterhood and they think it reeks. They might be willing to have sex in spite of it, but they’ll be holding their breaths the whole time.

Boy Beater Chantal reads the card, which is for Ashley H. and says that the road to love is a wild ride. You may remember Ashley H. as the dentist who enjoys talking to statues of Ben Franklin and dancing around in her underroos. Ashley H. is happy for herself, which is great, because every other woman in that room is giving her Single White Female stalker eyes.

“Don’t let the tiny braid fool you. I’ll cut a bitch.”

That night, Brad pulls up to the house in a fancy car, wearing a fancy suit (side question: does he not live in the same house? Why does he always seem to be driving to the mansion?). Ashley H. is wearing a gold lame bodice top and a tutu. It is a fine outfit for a preschool dance recital, but for an adult dentist? Not so much.

Able to really impress toddlers who want to grow up to be princesses.

Brad and Ashley drive off into the night and into the woods. It’s completely dark and Ashley has her hand over mouth in sheer excitement of the possibility that this road could either lead to love or murder. Brad stops the car in the middle of nowhere. They get out and walk down the road with just the light from a lantern. If I were Ashley I would have been pissed off. I hate wearing the wrong shoes to any event. Eventually, they come to a giant electric switch. They flip it. And a giant carnival, set up just for them, lights up.

Holding hands, they run through the carnival like two giant, dumb children. Why are they running? We literally do not see another person the entire time they’re there. They play games, ride rides, and display their physical prowess in feats of strength. Brad is having an amazing time.

“Ah lahk this girl. Ah lahk this girl alot,” he drawls. He goes in for the kiss, and Ashley is on his lips like a ravenous monkey. You can see her jaw working to unhinge itself so that she can shove her tongue down his throat, choke him until he passes out, and drag him to the nearest altar.

Good move. He can’t say no if you’re suffocating him.

When the kiss ends, she asks for more, and they go at it again. There’s something icky about their kiss. Maybe it’s the fact that the entire length of their faces are touching.

Eventually, they sit down for some wine and cheese.

OK, there are two awesome things about the carnival that you *must* have: carnies and fair food. Without overall-wearing freaks and fried Oreos, you have nothing! This is the worst carnival ever.

Ok, some weird carnie porn would make it better…

So. Wine and cheese and serious discussion. Ashley wants stability and wants to be able to take care of herself, just in case. Her dad was a homeless junkie who left her mom to raise Ashley and her siblings alone. Brad is floored. They have so much in common. He, too, has a dad who was never around. He talks about not hearing from his dad for years, and his voice cracks as he talks about how tough it was.

“Does it make you a better man? A better potential father, husband?” Ashley asks, her hands flopping around wildly and Muppetlike. Brad explains that he believes that’s why he couldn’t commit the last time he was on The Bachelor. Muppet says she’s worried that he’s come back on the show to redeem himself and she’s concerned that he’ll feel obligated to pick someone, even if he doesn’t truly care for her. I’d say that’s a valid concern.

But Brad says he’s not there for redemption or to waste any time. After their serious talk, they get on the ferris wheel and lick one another’s tonsils some more.

So that was the first date. It seemed like fun, but like a really gigantic, frivolous waste. I mean, I know everything can’t be for the greater good, but it seems a bit of a shame to spend so much money on a 15-minute television segment when so many people are struggling. Maybe that’s why America hates Bachelor Brad so much. Not because he didn’t choose a wife last time, but because we’re on unemployment and he’s building private carnivals. Okay, while Brad and Muppet were spending Tanzania’s GDP on their date, a date card came and 15 women were slected for the next date, which is a daytime event. The women get ready and hairy moled Michelle, our resident bitch who’s not there to make friends, informs us that today’s her 30th birthday. 30. Uh-huh.

“Happy freakin’ birthday to me.”

Waitress Melissa has schmeared purple eye shadow and says she’s prepared to bring it. She always brings it. “Let’s hope it’s received,” she says in a moment of clarity.

The 15 daters get out of their limo on some sort of studio lot where they meet up with Brad and a woman from the Red Cross who’s wearing an unfortunate shirt.

Donate to the Red Cross so they can afford to  buy some adult-sized shirts.

Brad wants to make up for his ridiculously expensive date last night by giving back to the Red Cross. They’ll be raising awareness and encouraging people to give blood by acting in some public service announcements. The women who are there to further their acting careers grin.

They head into the studio where the women are given their roles and get into costume. The scripts for theses PSAs… sigh. They seem… offensive to say the least. Molechelle is angry before she gets into her 1980s prom costume. It’s her 30th birthday, you know. Not her 29th. Not her 31st. Her 30th.

The first scene is supposed to be a Latin soap opera. Brad plays a mistachioed hombre named Gustavo. Emily is a maid. She’s fighting over Gustavo with Boston bartender Stacey who’s dressed as a… hooker? They slap one another back and forth over and over again before Gustavo shoes up. And then they take turns kissing him and asking who he really loves. And then Lisa M. (the sweet-looking girl from Kansas who wore the ruby red stripper shoes last episode) joins the fray because she’s carrying Gustavo’s baby.

A good cause like the Red Cross deserves the most dignified of PSAs.

What’s obvious from the very beginning of this scene is that none of these people will ever be professional actors. They have to re-do the scene over and over, much to the chagrin of the other women.

Eventually, waitress Melissa loses her shit, gets up and walks onto the set in the middle of a take, and kisses Brad.

Aw, she couldn’t keep the crazy reigned in for an entire episode.

When the scene finally wraps, Molechelle give them a “pity clap.” “I don’t feel special at all,” she says. It is, after all, her birthday.

In the next scene, Brad goes on various dates with an increasingly bizarre parade of sad and offensive stereotypes. The acting is much better. But it’s still painful to watch.

Keltie, the Rockette as: The “Butch”

Desperate waitress Melissa as: The Cougar

Vampire Madison as: The Dominatrix

Boring Marissa as: The Gold Digger who’s also a Southern Belle

Molechelle is getting increasingly frustrated, and one woman observes that she can’t expect special treatment just because it’s her birthday.

The next scene involved two “party girls” bring Brad, a guy they just met, home. They’re all supposed to jump on the bed and start making out. And then they find out that Brad is a vampire and wants THEIR BLOOD. Just like the American Red Cross. If you don’t give blood to the Red Cross, they’re just gonna seduce you and steal it from you. That’s the message I got, anyway.

Britt, the 25-year-old food writer who brought Brad a brownie the first time they met is supposed to be one of the party girls. She’s concerned, though, because she’s a prude and is not sure about pretending to participate in a threesome. When the camera starts rolling, though, she manages to whip out this:

I think she got over her shyness.

The other women’s jaws drop. Molechelle reminds us it’s her birthday and stalks away from the set. The other girls can’t believe she’s being so dramatic. But you and I know that this woman is an EVIL GENIUS. Because you know what happens next. That’s right… Brad goes looking for her. Good job Molechelle. You now have the attention you so desperately need. It’s what keeps her “30″ year old skin looking so young.

Molechelle takes Brad’s hand and tells him that she wouldn’t be there if they didn’t have a connection. He feels it, too, and promises her that they’ll have good, clean fun later in the eveing.

“All I want for my birthday is Brad,” she says. She goes on to fantasize about their first kiss, which will set off fireworks. “Probably right behind us,” she says. And after they kiss, he’ll find all the other girls’ kisses to be lacking.

Now that these people have tainted the profession of acting, they’re ready to party. They head over to the Roosevelt, where they have the roof-top bar and pool to themselves. Brad kicks off the one-on-one dates with drive-by kisser Melissa. She wants to clear the air and let him know that she’s not crazy — just spontaneous! When she peels off his skin and starts to lick it, she’s not insane — just a lil’ kooky!

Everything here is just slightly… off.

Needless to say, it’s a short one-on-one, and when Melissa walks away, she’s shaking. From happiness, she says. Could be that the demons are just trying to get out. As soon as Melissa re-joins the group, the other women start to grill her about how the one-on-one went. Some of them feel that she should have told Brad that if she hadn’t gotten any one-on-one time that night, she’d planned on leaving. Manscaper Raichel says Melissa lied by omission. Melissa — who you know was never going to leave — starts to freak out. She’s talking real fast and I’m not really sure what this argument is really about. Something about being old and young and bitchy and nice. They sound like two yapping little doggies.

Up next for a one-on-one is Molechelle. “Lemme tell ya somethin,’” she says. She lets Brad know that he has walls up and she’s going to peel back his layers. Brad says he doesn’t want to end up alone and is looking for a best friend. I like how he sort of avoided directly engaging at her in conversation. They’re both just sort of talking at one another at this point. Could be the beginning of the perfect marriage.

Later, everyone goes for a swim. Once the girls are in their bikinis, Brad can properly decide who should get that rose. “It’s going to someone who definitely put herself out there today,” he tells them, and crazy Melissa’s heart begins to thump harder under her misshappen saline lump.

The rose goes to Molechelle! The other girls aren’t happy, but Molechelle believes she deserves it, “seeing that it’s my birthday,” she says. She smells the rose, rubs it all over her lips and waves it around in front of the other girls, then sticks it in her mouth.

Everyone loves a gracious winner.

The next day, Brad has a date with Jackie, the artist from New York City. I don’t really see how “artist” is an actual title. There’s so many different types of artists, but we’ll just go with it. Jackie’s date card said “let’s get our love on track,” so maybe they’re going to the races, or running or something.

Whatever they’re doing, it requires Brad to dress like the Brawny man when he arrives at the mansion to pick Jackie up. He says he’s going to give her the full Pretty Woman experience, which sounds gross. I mean, kind of implies that he’s going to pay her to give him a BJ while they watch I Love Lucy re-runs. And then he’s going to humiliate her by sending her to shop at a store where the women will be so bitchy to her that she’ll leave without buying anything. And then he’ll involve her in some unethical business dealings….

As it turns out, he’s just taking her to a hotel in Beverly Hills. They go to a spa and get mud painted on their faces and then Brad gives Jackie a hand massage. Then they walk to room 434, which is filled with evening gowns. Jackie gets to choose one, and then get her hair and makeup done.

Back at the mansion, Disney princess Emily is on the phone with her daughter, the little girl she had after her lover, a race car driver, was killed in a tragic plane crash. Emily’s daughter is staying with someone called “Mimi,” and I think it would be cool if it was this Mimi:

She’s like the Mary Poppins of Cleveland.

Emily is worried because she hasn’t told Brad that she has a daughter. She says it’s difficult being away from little Ricky, but it will be worth the pain if she comes back with a man. If she doesn’t get the guy… well then I guess both mom and daughter are in for some serious therapy.

OK, back to the date. Jackie picked out the least flattering dress possible and her hair looks like it’s in a tangled knot on the side of her head. Brad has some sparkly, sparkly jewels for her to wear, and thankfully he doesn’t try to snap her fingers in the jewelry box a la Pretty Woman.

“I went for the most sack-like dress they had. You like?”

They hop into a gray Bentley, and jazzy, Great Gatsby music plays as they ride around drinking wine in the car. They arrive at the Hollywood Bowl, and the light up sign outside reads “For Jackie, Love Brad.” Hmph. He sure does throw the “L” word around a lot for someone who’s scared of it.

They drive into the Bowl, where a dinner table is sitting on the stage. They eat what looks like rubbery, hotel catering chicken and have giant glasses of red wine. The ever present rose sits ominously on the table. They talk about what kinds of kids they were. Jackie was a nerd and she had a boyfriend in high school, which is a big deal — because she didn’t date in college. What?? Not one date in four years? Even though she’s 27, Jackie has only ever had two boyfriends. I smell a virgin! Brad’s dying to ask… but he politely notes that she mus be extremely cautious when she chooses men. Just like him!

I’m pretty non-judgmental when it comes to values and lifestyle choices, but it seems strange for someone who is so obviously not into dating to become a contestant on a dating show. Also, why wouldn’t someone date? It’s like the most fun, craziest, most frustrating thing you can do. Or maybe I’m doing too much assuming. Maybe after the cameras stopped rolling, Jackie whipped out a pack of smokes, lit one and said “yeah, I’m not into the dating thing. I just like meeting up with random dudes and boning for the night. Yeah, nothing like a good, anonymous bone to get my mind right so I can do my art.” Then she blew smoke rings into Brad’s face as he coughed and they discussed their favorite sex positions.

Anyway. Even after all this weirdness, Brad says he remembered Jackie’s smile when she got out of the limo the first time they met, and he wants her to have the rose. She feels special. Then Brad has one more surprise — the band Train!

Hey, soul sister.

The stage spins around and then Train is playing. I wonder if they were back there the whole time. Like from the time the limo pulled up, through dinner, through the talk about super singledom, Train was back there quietly waiting. Drumsticks in the air, fingers on the fret, mic in hand. Just waiting for Brad to say “here’s Train!” And if Brad hadn’t given Jackie the rose, would the band have just stayed back there, quietly listening to her cry as she walked away? And then would they have played just for Brad?

So — none of that happened because Brad gave Jackie the rose, and the stage turned around, and Train was happy to play. I bet back in the early 1990s, when Train was just a group of guys sitting around in a coffee house, they talked about the hopes and dreams for their band: first, they’d pay their dues and take road trips up and down the west coast; then they’d get noticed by record execs and get a deal; they’d go on longer road trips, perfecting their sound, then spend months in the studio; they’d release their record and it would go gold, maybe platinum. Then they’d do the international tour, they’d attend the Grammys and they’d all bring their moms. They’d do it over and over again until finally an exec at ABC would notice them and would say, “hey guys, hey Train. You wanna play on a little show called The Bachelor?” And they’d look at one another, silently keeping it together, trying not to freak out, and they’d turn to the exec and say “yeah, man. Yeah. That’d be cool.” And they’d know they’d made it.

While Train plays, Brad and Jackie dance around the stage and Jackie says it has been confirmed that she’s the luckiest girl in the world. As they dance, Brad goes in for the kiss. They make out a little and it looks slightly better than Ashley H.’s kiss.

Brad’s back at the mansion and feeling like a brand new man. It’s cocktail party/rose ceremony night. Molechelle immediately grabs him and drags him out back by the pool. The other girls are confused, but do nothing, because the lioness has very clearly marked her territory.

So, does Molechelle have something important to talk to Brad about? Indeed.

“Do you prefer Starbucks or the Coffee Bean?” she demands to know. Brad likes Starbucks. She also manages to find out that he keeps eggs, turkey and water in his fridge at all times. Me too! she says.

She goes back to the group to report to the other girls that she and Brad had an incredible conversation. She then reports what she’s found out.

Unimpressed by Molechelle’s detective skills.

Emily says doesn’t care where he gets his coffee. What she cares about is one-on-one time, which she gets with Brad. I’m really not sure what sort of conversation they have because Brad is stuttering and stumbling as he talks.

“You make me lose werds,” he says dumbly.

Aw. You stay pretty, sugar.

As Brad enjoys his time with Emily, cock-boobed waitress Melissa has found a new outlet for her issues: manscaping, vowel-loving Raichel. The two are on one of the many couches in the mansion arguing. Raichel turns to the other women for help, but they don’t want to get involved.

Eventually, Raichel walks away, dramatically saying “I will not have you get in the way of the rest of my life.”

Raichel seeks comfort from the other women who tell her to calm the fuck down. Melissa has followed her to the rest of the group to spout snappy comebacks like “no, actually you are psycho, thank you very much.”

There’s a whole lot of back and forth and some tears, and vampire Madison pretty much sums things up.

“Either open up an artery or shut up.”

When the girl with the fangs seems more reasonable than you, it’s time to leave the show.

Somehow, this ends up being one-on-one time for Melissa again. As Brad sits with her, the other girls literally run out of the house to watch. Melissa spills her guts to Brad, crying, telling him that Raichel is sucking up all her energy.

Next, Melissa kicks the romance up a notch by telling Brad that she had four slices of onion and pepper pizza. She apologizes for her hot breath. LOL. Wow, who eats that before a date?

“I also had anchovies, garlic, and two cups of black coffee. Sorry.”

Brad goes off to find Raichel to get to the bottom of what’s going on. Raichel begins to bawl, too. All she wanted was to look beautiful for him tonight, she says tearfully.

Mission accomplished.

Both women have succeeded in confusing Brad. He needs help. Fortunately, Roberto Martinez and Ali Fed….otowsk…y are here to help. OK, I know these two from the cover of US Weekly or some other tabloid. They used to be on this show, too, and are now qualified relationship experts, I guess. They promise Brad that they’ll do their best to help him out. This is, after all, a very important task he’s set before them.

Adorably on the case.

Ali and Roberto sit outside with a notepad and talk to each girl. It’s super boring and nothing new is said. Also, we never hear what Ali and Roberto have to say to Brad about the women, so it’s a pretty useless segment.

OK, there’s another safety rose that’s been dropped, and Brad gives it to Emily. In spite of the hideous dress she’s wearing, he thinks that she’s classy and sophisticated and Ali and Roberto thought she was genuine.

Chris H. is back, which means it’s time for the producers to tell Brad which girls he should pick. He comes back and starts handing roses out. By the time we get to the last one we’re left with Keltie (the butch rockette), Britt (the prude who’s a good kisser), and our two weeping psychopaths.

Britt gets the final rose. The others say goodbye.

In her exit interview, Keltie says that she should get an Oscar for worst date ever. She thinks she was maybe meant to be alone. The Bachelor was her last ditch effort because she’s done regular dating, dating people at work, been set up, done online dating. She’s done. Jeez, that’s depressing.

Melissa didn’t think she deserved to be let go. The other girls conspired to push her out. She’s a nice person.

Raichel walks out, her giant, fake, torpedo tits pointing the way. She cries and says Melissa won. She came to fall in love, not get upset by another girl.

Real boobs can’t hold up lower thirds on their own.

Next week: explosions, an action movie, Molechelle marking her territory some more, singing, Seal, slow dancing, tears, and someone wants to go home!

The show closes with a clip of Keltie freestyle rapping, doing the running man, and jazz hands.

I think we found your datign problem, MC Kickin’ Keltie.