By Djb
Previously on The Bachelor: Big Bang, Earth formed, molten lava, man walks upright, man regresses, Bob.
"Welcome to Long Lake," a folksy, friendly-looking homespun sign begs, as if it's the entrance to Epcot's LongLakeLand Adventure, light years from nowhere but only seventy-three miles from Alpena. (Heh. "Alpena.") I believe that this part of the world, sadly omitted from manifest destiny's ostensibly comprehensive plan, is called "Michigan." It has a college. And Bob Guiney. And Alpena. Heh. "Alpena."
A quick shot of a boat on some body of water clues us in on how food, drinking water, and emergency medical supplies (including tongue Band-Aids for the poor, kissed-out ladies) get from the mainland to wherever the hell this is, before we cut away to Bob "Fraunch Fries, Fraunch Dressing, Fraunch Kissing And, To Drink, Peru" Guiney, chattin' it up with the local...camera crew. "I find myself a week away from making one of the biggest decisions of my life." Not proposing marriage is one of the biggest decisions of your life? In that case, I make one of the biggest decisions of my life every day! Go, me! Hey, you guys? Today, will you not marry me? Wow, it really does feel good to make every day special.
Bob walks away from the water, fresh from sending out an S.O.S. to the world, holding a picnic basket. Uch. A picnic. With one of those wicker picnic baskets from Pottery Barn with the real silverware and the cloth napkins that yuppies buy for each other when they turn forty and then never use because instead they'll just eat inside like adults with dining room tables, thanks. Bob vamps that he's "confused" where he's "at with things." Good. A perfect quote in order to start unpacking the language of all this reeeeeal early this week. Okay. So, first, what Bob is NOT is "unsure of where he is in his choice between Estella and Kelly Jo." That's already been decided. I'm sorry, but it has. Conversely, what he IS so darned "confused" about is whether he's going to pick one of these girls at all, and, if so, how he can still be American's Metrosexual Sweetheart when he defaults to "see, now he's just a total ass" mode and doesn't offer up a commitment to either of them. I've read your book, you magnificent bastard! But only metaphorically. I haven't actually read that book.
In the interest of full disclosure, Bob goes ahead and explains the rules of the game. The Bachelor, the lover, the host, the on-site representative from the accounting firm of PriceWaterhouseCooper who explains how the votes are tabulated...the man does everything: "I'm going to be spending the day with Estella, and then tomorrow Kelly Jo will be coming here as well." People, it's only simple because he makes it so simple.
Estella, not taking up much room in a black tank top, walks up a hill from the water, past the hundred million bottles, washed up on the sho-ore. She waves at Bob from afar, but before she can get to him and commence with the smacky kissing, she's going to have to figure out how to get past an enormous pile of cut lumber strewn inexplicably around the grassy expanse. Look, Bob, we know you're freaked about "opening your heart" after it was trounced on back in the day by a heartless hussy (but you're friends now and WE GET IT), but don't you think this Commitmentphobe Wall Of China thing you've constructed is a little excessive? But a smooth cut later, Estella has just, what, crawled beneath it or slithered right through it, telling us on the way, "When I started this whole journey with Bob, I hoped that I would be the last one with him." A totally original fairy tale of a story, considering that the rest of the girls who started this "journey" possessed dissimilar, incongruous dreams like "wanting to win a hot dog eating contest" or "wanting to be supreme and divine ruler who reigns over the city-state of Crete." And, by popular demand, we're going to count the number of times in this nine-hour, mini-series-length, Roots II: Will You Accept This Root episode that Estella makes mention of a "journey" that she and Bob are on. It's already up to one, but this I warn you before you make your pick: we play Price is Right rules here, which means the winner is whoever guesses closer without going over. That said, my guess is four. And, to recap, it's already up to one.
"You look beautiful," Bob tells Estella as she approaches him on this great expanse of land that I think might be his parents' house or maybe is just near his parents' house. "You look HOT," Estella replies, perhaps mistaking the caked, greasy combination skin and clogged pores for actual warmth-inspired perspiration. It's always there, Estella. You guys have just never been outside in the daylight together. Estella throws her left arm around the back of Bob's neck and they kiss (I would count the total number of those in this episode, but this is merely a computer and not a magic machine, you see). Bob asks her, "Have you eaten?" With the exception of a wholly unappetizing appetizer of "tongue" which Estella at least had the good sense to spit back out when she was done with it, no. She hasn't. Bob points the way to another part of Ambiguous Grassy Expanse National Park, where "Nick and Tony's al Fresco" is all set up. He tells her again on the four-step walk that she looks "lovely," chirping in a high-pitched voice that somehow gaily matches her responding "Thank yoooooou!" almost ampere for ampere. Am I playing this episode on the wrong RPM? Do I need one of those little plastic pieces to put in the middle of the 45 to make this work on a standard player? If you were born after 1980, just email me and I'll explain. Oh, and nice flip-flop sandals, Bob. You on your way to the dormitory showers or what?
Once Estella and Bob are settled on the blanket and watching the boats hightail it out of this wilderness (the twist ending of this series is that, at the end, Estella discovers that it was Earth all along), the following conversation ensues. It is one requiring direct transcription to do it appropriate justice. Act it out with a loved one who doesn't really love you back today!
Bob [excitedly]: I'm excited for you to meet my family.
Estella [squeakily]: Me too!
Bob [as before, still excitedly]: Yeah, I'm really excited.
Estella [ditto stage directions, but insert "squeakily"]: Yeah, I am too.
[a beat]
Estella [con't]: Do you think they're going to like me?
Bob [unconvinced]: I'm sure they're going to love you.
Estella [whisper-squeaky]: I'm so excited to meet them.
You guys! You're on television! Do something!
Estella does do something. She kisses Bob again. She takes his face in her hands, grabbing on by the ever-evolving jowls (and yes, I am a supermodel, and thanks for asking), all the while confessionalizing, "I really do hope that Bob's family does approve of me, because I want to be with him." And not because Bob's mother could kill you with her coif. Well, not just because of that.
Smackity-smack smack kissity kiss kiss, until Estella comes up for air and notes, "It's almost over." Not nearly "almost" enough, timekeeper. She asks Bob how he feels about the end being nigh, and he kicks off his reply with a refreshingly direct "Truthfully..." before doubling back into BachelorBabble, where they try to be all egalitarian and vague and not hurt anyone's feelings and not break any of the rules. It's a fundamental problem with the first hour and fifty-seven minutes (minus fifty-six minutes of "previously"s and an hour of commercials for Trista's wedding) of the final episode: it features one billion confessionals from the Bachelor, none of which contains any actual information for fear of tipping off the viewing to the ending. If anyone is still around for the ending. Anyway, the "truthfully" is followed up with Bob flinching as he catches himself about to violate his contract and actually say something that might come out of the mouth of an actual human being, opting not for "truth" but in fact "lack thereof." He goes on, "I'm, just, I don't know. I'm confused. Y'know? Not about my feelings, but what to do." I don't know what that means. Neither does Estella, because she's forced to vamp, "Just follow your heart." It always knows! Toucan Sam guides another lonely heart to a happy ending. Estella continues that "we make it complicated," and Bob agrees, "I definitely do. I overly complicate everything." She suggests that he simplify things, but he would probably only be able to promise to "overly simplify" things, which would ironically complicate things every more. Truthfully, though, I have no idea what they're talking about right now. Complicate what things? What's going on? Bob looks pensive and thoughtful as Estella's consequent speech is drowned out by Bob's own confessional (overly complicated, isn't it?) in which he discusses the "magnitude" of this decision. Back on the ambiguous grass, Estella leans forward and changes the haltingly-edited subject, squeak-whispering, "We are going to have so much fun together and make the most insane couple." They're insane like Crazy Eddie's prices were insane. That is to say, not insane. "With my humor, my brains, and your good looks." She's being ironic because he is ugly. And, once, according to sources, fat. Once.
Madly grating banter about the fact that they're going to drive a boat segues us to Bob and Estella driving a boat. Cut to the couple huddled under an umbrella (it's not raining, though, which means that they're insane!), neither of them driving the boat (INSANE!). Traveling past it, Bob points out the house his grandfather built, and Estella calls it "so beautiful." It's a split-level ranch seen through thick fog. It's not so anything. Back in a confessional, Estella tells us again that she thinks it's important that Bob's family like her, because we as viewers are unaware of the power of interpersonal and familial relations. But thanks to her, now we know.
Okay, now it's raining. Hogging an umbrella he's awfully committed to considering how much he adheres to the wet look, Bob leads and Estella follows through a sliding door at the water-facing side of the Guiney manse. The requisite hugs are exchanged with the fam: Mom Nora, Dad Bob, sister (and Mom doppelganger) DeDe, brother-in-law J.D. (wait, DeDe and J.D.?), and their kid, Jack. Nora (may I call you Nora?) proclaims Estella "gorgeous" to her face, and Estella rather disturbingly volleys back, "So are you!" Nora's hair is insane. Intergenerationally insane. And it's at peak viewing right now, because the arc of its bell curve is in direct sunlight and her pillbox hat fell off when the President got shot. Meanwhile, Estella's dad (who looks, I guess, like a dad) kicks it confessional-style, telling us that Estella seemed like a member of the family from the first moment she walked in the house: "It wasn't like we were meeting a stranger." That's because Bob offers up the Estella dossier point by point, outlining her great qualities so that he can hype up the good name of the girl he brought home without all of that pesky "conversational flow" and "letting somebody else get a word in edgewise for crying out loud" thing he keeps getting all tripped up on. Bob reminds us about her deaf father and her deaf brother. He makes a joke about interest rates when we're reminded that they both work in the real-estate industry. It's comedy gold, and the interest rate on gold is really high!
Ha! Wait, I totally didn't even hear this the first time I watched this! Bob tells the story of Estella's fast-beating heart her first night at Bob's Villa, and J.D. calls out from the back of the room, "That's better than a Tiffany bracelet!" I love that it's almost a year later and there's still time to find in our hectic days to make fun of creepy Russ. Bob's non-blood-relatives really scored points on that one. Except I still don't like it when people call attention to how non-Bachelor-y a Bachelor Bob is. He's like the Bachelor because he is the Bachelor. Subversiveness is not a toy, and from now on you can only hold it when your father and I are home.
Nora Kennedy-Onassis asks Estella if she has any siblings, and I'm just saying that she must be as deaf as a...well, sibling of Estella's, because we addressed this eleven seconds ago. Secretly, though, I think these two sequences might have been edited out of order. Is it possible that the producers are lying to us and not depicting the story as it actually happened? Scandal! Anyway, Estella spells out her riveting domestic situation, fourteen brothers, ninety sisters, pi nieces and nephews, and so on. "I want so many kids," she adds, clearly having played the Mary game much better than Mary ever did. Nora Kennedy-Onassis proposes a walk, and the two of them retire outside as Estella gives us some buzzwords to describe Nora, including "classy and beautiful and sweet and kind." Outside, Nora all but begs Estella to come be her babymaking daughter-in-law, and inside, DeDe spoons a very Midwestern casserole from a large bowl into a large bowl, and speeches, "I have gotta say, 'wow.'" She celebrates the fact that Bob has met such an "amazing lady," and tells him that he needs to be willing to "put [him]self out there." He tells DeDe that he came into this experience cynically, adding that he second-guesses all of his feelings and emotions. She tells him that if he doesn't want to let something great slip through his fingers, he needs to chill the hell out and grow up. DeDe adds that if Estella is so great, "I can only imagine what we're gonna meet tomorrow." Well, crack team of intuitive editors...we thought you'd never ask.
Over in Bev Niner, we join the constant state of flux that is Kelly Jo's hair, already in progress. She's kicking it in the back of a limo and wearing a white strapless dress. I have to say that, as far as the ladies go (not these ladies, but the whole theoretical concept of "ladies"), she looks pretty smokin'. Am I allowed to call her that? Is that a word people use? What if they do it while they're licking one fingertip and then placing said fingertip on an imaginary surface at about eye level while making this sound: "tssssss." Is that when I know I am indeed a straight man? Or is that when I know I'm a redneck, according to Jeff Foxworthy? I get those confused all the time. Anyway, Kelly Jo's limo pulls up at Harry Winston, where a woman whose name we never learn takes Kelly Jo through a series of ring choices. She's so fabulously Long Island she must have grown up in a cul de sac and taken piano lessons from my mom. Kelly Jo tells us that, as it turns out, she's very much in love with Bob.
Augh. Shut up, Wonderful World of Disney. What is Eloise at Christmastime, anyway? Okay, quick quiz: which of those three words is actually a word accepted by the laws of the English language? Hint: it does not rhyme with "mellow ease" or "Christmas rhyme."
More toasts at dinner, many an "I'll drink to that" (and one for Mahler!), and the Evan Handler brother-in-law guy asks if either Bob or Estella would move to the other's "place." Meaning apartment? City? More specific, please. Bob goes off with the insanely romantic "I don't know," and Estella follows it up that they're really still getting to know each other. Wow. This. Is not love. But Estella does wish she could stay and hang out with the fam, and DeDe announces that they're "so close with Bob" as family and friends. They want someone who wants to be part of Bob's life to also be part of theirs. And yes, family is all sorts of very, very important. But Estella really will be marrying the whole family, it seems. Doesn't it? ["Well, it would, if she were marrying Bob, which she is not." -- Wing Chun] Nora Kennedy-Onassis reminds us that Bob's family is going to be meeting another girl (whom Nora will hate on purpose), and that it's not easy to get to know someone under these freaky circumstances. Nora Kennedy-Onassis asks Estella, "Are you capable of loving him with your heart and your soul?" Estella puts her right hand over her heart as if she's about recite The Pledge of Allegiance to the sovereign nation of Bobtopia, responding, "I think I already started loving him with my heart and soul." She thinks. She started. True love at its most qualified. Bob's father pipes up now, letting Estella know that "for a cynical old cop like I am, you've impressed the heck out of me." Cynical old cops love pointing out what cynical old cops they are. At least in the dream logic of the series of Mel Gibson buddy movies I allow to inform my cultural sensibilities. Bob's dad? He's too old for this crap. And we too bored. Estella has "fallen in love" with Bob's family, which is perhaps the realest, most natural, only love being depicted on this show right now. Outside the house, Bob and Estella kiss goodbye, Bob teasing, "I loved...it." That's awesome, on a show where the emotions are so high, to talk of love and then fail to direct it anywhere it could actually make the person who loves you feel loved. Like, sit at dinner and be all, "Estella, my darling. I love...broccoli." Bob, meanwhile, is wrestling with demons of his own, telling us that he's "afraid to make too big a step in any direction for fear that it won't work." Is it me, or is the eleventh-hour "fear of commitment" thing just about the lamest? Everyone -- and I mean you, me, and the Sunshine Band's KC -- knows that when someone comes on this show, that someone enters into a (tacit, sure) contract that you're going to meet someone you can at least delude yourself into thinking you want to marry. But this? This is Buzzkill TV on the Blueballs Network. Yuck yuck blah.
Bob's family loves Estella. Because she's the matriarch and her hair has its own life force, let's let Nora Kennedy-Onassis go first: "I like the way she touches you, because we're a touchy-feely family." Okaaaaaaay. Also, "I asked her to go for a walk with me, and she was every bit as comfortable by herself." Wait wait wait. Just a second. Hold the long-distance phone Bob is going to have to use when he sells out his loving family and flees to Los Angeles where the sun and the television cameras live. Um, Nora? When there's a Mike Fleiss show on an upcoming Fox season entitled Hot Girl On Girl Action...With My Mom!, can we revisit this discussion? Because, until then, it should probably be made a bit clearer that Bob isn't actually bringing these girls home for you. Lots of touching? Private walks together? Does something need explaining here?
Man, does that sister have a bit of a Midwestern accent. She seems really nice, though. It's just too bad that she'd probably never be my friend in real life. Because she's a little older than I am. And I don't know where Michigan is. And I just implied that her mom was a freakish, girlfriend-poaching lesbian.
This is so much filler I'm on the brink of a joke ending with "don't even know 'er!"
Bob, effectively, tells his family that they're not being any help at all. He says it makes him nervous that each of the women has expressed herself and her feelings so blatantly ("I think I already started loving him" is blatant?) to him, and that he doesn't want to make any decision that wouldn't be "respectful" of them. Oh, my god, he totally hates both Estella and Kelly Jo. Amazing. "You know you want the right person who fits right for you," Bob's father says, figuring out that it isn't either one of them. Now THAT would have been an awesome freakin' ending. Everything would be different today. He finishes off with the confessional, "If tomorrow night's date with Kelly Jo goes anything like tonight's date with Estella went, I'm totally screwed. Because I don't know where I'm at." Oh, my god. He hates them both.
"Long Lake, A Great Place to Live and Play," yet another folksy, friendly-looking homespun sign begs, as if it's the entrance to Epcot's LongLakeLand Adventure, light years from nowhere but only seventy-three miles from Alpena. (Heh. "Alpena.") I believe this part of the world, sadly omitted from manifest destiny's ostensibly comprehensive plan, is called "Michigan." It has a college. And Bob Guiney. And Alpena. Heh. "Alpena."
It's the "tomorrow" we were promised might one day come. We meet up with Bob again, introducing us to the lake house in Michigan again. Again again again. He's wearing a shirt that features some kind of Asian symbols, proof that the Entertainment Department Of Media Saturation is doing its job properly and that the phrase "once I was fat and now I am skinny" has successfully permeated the global market. Because, I mean, what the hell else would it say? Because we are simpering half-wits, Bob needs to remind us that waaaaaay back before the commercial, Estella had a great time and received a warm reception at Bob's parents' house. He predicts that if Kelly Jo also kills with his family, he's going to leave "more confused." So when she doesn't (and she doesn't) make quite the same splash as Estella, we're supposed to go with the pat theory that Bob's family had some sway over this decision? Nuh-uh. What did, then? What mysterious cause? You mean, besides the fact that he's a commitmentphobe and he hates them both?
Kelly Jo is sitting outside wearing a blue bikini top and a sarong (when she said she grew up in "Michigan," she didn't mention if she was just raised in a Hooters or what), watching as Bob pulls up on a jet ski, wearing a sleeveless wetsuit. Kelly Jo tells us in a confessional how "sexy" he looked, causing the president of Sleeveless Wetsuits LLC to issue a hastily assembled press release reading, "No one looks sexy in a sleeveless wetsuit, least of all that guy. And they don't repel water, at least on the arms, for they are sleeveless. Allow me to let the shame of having invented this pointless invention lead to my terminating my life immediately." Awwww. R.I.P., President Wetsuit. I can't believe that that press release turned into a suicide note!
Kelly Jo congratulates Bob on his "nice entrance" (R.I.P., sweet princely president!), and they hug and kiss and hug. They enjoy (well, she does, while he more "contractually obligates") the same picnic as Bob enjoyed yesterday. Kelly Jo expresses excitement about the day and the family and the meeting, and Bob asks what she's most excited about. "Meeting them!" Kelly Jo hazards. And, rather than volleying back a "well, they're excited to meet you, too" or an "I'm so excited for you to meet them, too," Bob defaults to the noncommittal "They're crazy." And they're not, but for the purposes of this discussion, even that's momentarily beside the point. Bob is not even present on this date. He doesn't have a nice word for Kelly Jo. I know it seems like everything's fine on first viewing, but I haven't had just a single viewing of just one episode of this show since I walked past it playing in the window of a Radio Shack during Season One when I didn't even know what it was yet. So trust me. Come along. Dig a little deeper. At this point in his decision-making process, Bob's repeated "I don't know what to do" isn't because he's trying to choose between Estella and Kelly Jo. It's because he's trying to choose between Estella and not Estella. Go with me on this one. ["If Djb is right about this -- and I have no reason to think he isn't right about everything, always -- then the interview I saw on The Ellen DeGeneres Show today, during which Kelly Jo declared that, going into the final meeting with Bob, she was completely sure she had the whole thing sewn up, and that she was legitimately in love with him, is even sadder than the baseline level of 'sad' that's always present on this show." -- Wing Chun] Kelly Jo hopes to "knock [Bob's family's] socks off." I think their socks are probably product-placed, and if we'd like to see more fine programming like that which we are enjoying here, you'd better turn that hope right around, missy. Also, Bob's family isn't "crazy."
Bob suits Kelly Jo up in a life preserver, telling her, "I asked them if they had vests for little people." Oh, burn. And he has no right to talk about people of strange sizes. And, shut up. Bob tells us that Kelly Jo is "a blast to hang out with." Yeah, that's love talk. Kelly Jo drives the jet ski and laughs uproariously as Bob goes flying off the back. In a confessional, Bob repeats the fact that his family really liked Estella. And back through the sliding door with them, this time to the back yard, where the nephew kid screams, "Hi, Kelly Jo!" Nora Kennedy-Onassis looks at Kelly Jo, giving her a look like the kid just screamed something about Batman smelling and Robin laying an egg, right in the middle of when they were supposed to be singing Christmas carols. "Keep that tramp's name out of your mouth," Grandma Kennedy-Onassis seems to be saying.
More toasting. I guess that'll be two for Mahler.
Back in Bob's cozy future home of L.A., Estella sits fidgeting in the limo, kicking back to a confessional in which we learn that she hopes it's her first and last time trying on engagement rings. The same woman at Harry Winston (let's call her "Anita") welcomes Estella, somehow managing to pronounce her name entirely using the letter "Z." Estella, she hugs. They sit down and start sizing (for the love of all things holy, Anita, you're showing her rings USING THE WRONG HAND!!!), Estella telling us in a confessional, "Is my boyfriend going to propose to me or is he going to propose to another girl?" Hmmm...my Scantron sheet still has room for a "C" and a "D." What say we try out some of those choices before we move ahead to scribbling in a circle with our #2 pencils, okay? I'll take "C." Loneliness and heartbreak all.
Nora Kennedy-Onassis tries to shake off The Not Estella One, telling her hapless husband to take Kelly Jo on a walk around the house while she stays behind, talking about how much she doesn't like Kelly Jo. Once on their way, OldBob (as opposed to his son, OldBob Jr.) asks Kelly Jo, "So, what do you think about this son of ours?" Ech. More drooling. Kelly Jo replies that she thinks her stark neediness is "pretty evident," adding that Bob's everything she ever dreamed of in a man. Man, could her dreams use some dusting. OldBob and Kelly Jo, by the way, are holding hands, people. This family is officially freaking me out. They're officially one human-sized stuffed animal costume away from exemplifying everything freaky and deviant about human interaction. And, for some reason, people in life-sized animal costumes make me feel that way as well. It was this Vanity Fair article I read a really long time ago. Still squicks me out to think about it. Anyway, OldBob has let go of Kelly Jo's hand long enough to kick it to a confessional, where he tells us that Kelly Jo reminds him of Bob: "If she had a thought on her mind, you're gonna hear it whether you like it or not." What would be a thought she would have on her mind she would want him to hear whether he liked it or not? I mean, besides, "OldBob, could you kindly remove your hand from my hand on this utterly strained walk around Creepy Mansion"? Also, OldBob says, "She was real open in expressing how she felt about Bob." She loves him. Which is another quality she shares in common with Bob.
"So, what do you like about K.Jo?" Bob asks his brother-in-law. Omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod. Shut up shut up shut UP. Seriously, I'll give a million dollars to the person who says one meaningful thing about art, music, culture, politics, religion, or why NewsRadio isn't available on DVD. Anything. Seriously, anything. I can't take this anymore. Which is why I'll just leave the fact that Bob just called her K.Jo because I'm, like, completely out of gas on this home visit. I'll see if I can rally. Evan Handler says that he loves how outgoing she is. She's just like Bob. And people always love being with people exactly like them. Because we all don't secretly loathe ourselves at all. Anyway, The Handler tells Bob, "I honestly think they're both pretty genuine. So I really think you do have your hands full." About the fact that they're being genuine about how much they love him. And how he's got his hands full with the fact that he hates them both.
STOP TOASTING! Oh, man, I'm so tired. Outside for dinner tonight (because the only person who doesn't hate Kelly Jo tonight is, at the very least, "God") Nora (natch) does the honors of welcoming Kelly Jo to their home, telling her, "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." Weirder and weirder. Evan Handler asks how Kelly Jo thinks her family would get along with Bob's family, and Kelly Jo does that "we're identical! Exactly the same!" thing. OldBob wants us to know that family is the most important thing in their life (oh, REALLY?), telling her, "There's no such thing as in-laws and outlaws." Is that an expression? I've never heard it before. I kind of like it, mostly because when you hear the word "outlaws," it means some varmint's gettin' shot at. And you can take your pick with this group and revel in whoever gets hit first.
Actually, the Evan Handler guy looks a lot more like Ben Kingsley.
Kelly Jo is slouched down so low in her chair it looks like she's going to get spot-tested for scoliosis. And don't worry. I'm sure one of the willing members of the Touchyson Family would be more than happy to administer the exam. She's kicking back like she's got the thing in her back pocket. ["I'm telling you, she thought she did." -- Wing Chun] Except bikinis don't have pockets. For those of you playing at home, this is the exact moment where I fell asleep while watching this episode for the first time. Also, for those of you playing at home, Estella has still only said "journey" once. But I woke up when J.D. offered this pearl of a confessional regarding Kelly Jo: "If you didn't like her, you'd probably be an idiot." Cut to Nora Kenndy-Onassis, who tells the rest of the fam, "I thought she was very refreshing, very colorful...fun." Oh, no. Which is a ringing endorsement, provided she's describing the J. Crew fall rollneck colors. In a confessional, Nora harps on and on: "Estella wanted to get to know me. Tonight, with Kelly Jo, she didn't try to get to know me, and I wanted her to." But she doesn't say that to Bob, because they have a very close family where there are no secrets. OldBob tells us in confessional, "I think I liked Kelly Jo more than Nora." You like Kelly Jo more than Nora liked Kelly Jo, or you like Kelly Jo more than you like Nora? Because either answer is really acceptable. Because Nora hates Kelly Jo. And J.D. thinks anyone who doesn't like Kelly Jo is "probably an idiot." The scary part is that Nora has now seen this episode and poor J.D. is dead. DeDe gives a brief, impassioned speech in defense of emotional walls, culminating with her asking Bob if he thinks he could commit to marrying one of these girls. Bob: "I don't know. I honestly don't know...I think I need more time." Hates them. Hates them both a lot. Bob cuts off the therapy tone of the conversation, asking, "Are we back on Dr. Phil all of a sudden?" Were they on Dr. Phil? And, if so, is airtime something that can be run out of? Because if it is, it's a precious resource and everyone's just wasting it! Nora interrupts with a heartfelt "I just want to tell you, I love you very much." Bob and DeDe finish off her sentence in unison, saying, "and we're very special," which must have been something she used to say or a private joke they used to have or a children's book featuring fuzzy bunnies. I have many millions of private jokes with my siblings, and the reason you don't see them showing up on TV is because...well, they don't tend to make for compelling television. Except for the song "Cutting Cantaloupe is My Life (And I Will Cut it With a Knife)," which we wrote with my sister many years ago. Man, that was a good song. Anyway, DeDe cracks herself up when they reminisce on the dime of the Ford Motor Company or whoever else has stuck around to underwrite this travesty, and when she laughs, she laughs "The Laugh," the strident staccato cackle her brother laughs one octave lower. Okay, not an octave. Maybe, like, a perfect fourth. Bob wants to shut down and not commit to anybody, but he realizes that there are "no guarantees in life." Anyway, end.
Ah, the peaceful respite of Bob's Villa. We're back, and it's the last night of the rest of the world. Anyone for fruit or dessert? Estella gets out of her limo carrying a large white box containing...A HUMAN HEAD! Actually, I have no idea what's in there. I was still very comfortably asleep on my couch at this point in the viewing process. I was even so tired I watched half of it at night and then the other half the morning. I was that excited about seeing who I already knew won. Aaaaanyway, Estella does that five-point knock that's supposed to get the two-knock response (you know the one), but she does all seven in case she soon needs to get used to living life on her own again. Looks like someone hasn't read the spoiler thread. Bob offers a squeaky "look at yoooooou!" when she enters, and she kind of snarkily offers back a "look at YOU," in that "I said my family was deaf, not blind" way I think we used to find endearing. Didn't we used to love Estella? I don't even remember anymore.
In the kitchen, we learn "we're making pizza!" And, true to Kramer's vision of the eatery he could not get off the ground, we gaze upon bowls of toppings and dough the needs kneading. As they sprinkle in the flour, Bob and Estella recap the recap of the recapping recap of Estella's visit to Long Lake (which, not the only thing that's too long about this episode, let me say), Bob telling Estella that she made a big, big impression on his family. She laughs that their pizza is going to be "so good!" Why? What's going on? Out on the lanai now, Estella begins a thought: "If we go forward..." But don't worry, folks. Bob's social skills are so razor-sharp that he can have a whole conversation without even knowing what you were going to say! He uses Estella's clause as a jumping off point for his own agenda: "That's the first time you've ever said 'if.'" What are you, deaf? The girl was trying to talk. He keeps going: "You usually say, 'I think about...La-di-da.'" I thought he said her firsts language was sign language. But from that quote, I am to infer that it is "solfege." Which is a bad language to try and use in communicating with deaf people. That will bring us back to "do." I just think it's sad that he had to call her out on her linguistic quirks, just to passive-aggressively try to prove that she's as freaked out and unsure as he is.
"Are you ready at all to move forward with anybody?" Estella asks Bob. He hems that he kind of is, but that he has to "figure out what to do with it." She responds that she's afraid that he's not making a decision between one girl or another, but that she fears that he's making "a different decision." The one with him and Chris Harrison, she means? Because really, I was just kidding. Or...WAS I? She adds that she would hate to see him make this decision she thinks he's thinking of making (see why I hate the season finale yet?), an option Bob "can't seem to forget." Nevertheless, he has "amazing" feelings for Estella, and they've grown. Estella tells him that she only wants someone in her life who loves her as much as she loves him. So don't half-ass it, buddy. Bob asks what her perfect ending to this whole mess would be, and she tells him that it would be Bob's deciding to go on this journey (bing bing bing...that's two!) with her. And yet he still can't tell her everything he wants to say. He kisses her goodbye at the end of the date, and she tells us that she'll be "absolutely crushed" if she ends up without him. And her father was deaf. Say it again. I dare you. I double dog dare you. Physical challenge?
Bob assiduously cuts limes on the kitchen counter (a season spent in stretch limos driving to Harry Winston, and there's no one to cut the lime?) as Kelly Jo's limo edits itself up the driveway. She also brings a box of ambiguous origin and contents. Oh, it's a pie. He "loves pie." Yeah, you can say that again.
Bob throws steaks on a grill and tells Kelly Jo that this is the one thing he knows how to do. She tells him again that she loves him. He finds her "compelling." She's Compelly Jo. And that compliment is not on equal footing. Cut to not that many seconds later, where we discover the steaks burnt to a charred memory. Everything's broken. When did Bob start doing prop comedy? Is there a watermelon and a mallet in his future? Because you folks? In the front row? You guys are gonna get soaked.
It's later. They're sitting together on a couch, Kelly Jo making sure that Bob knows where she's coming from. He tells her he's pretty much right with her every step, but he apologizes that he can't give her more back emotionally. She leans in and kisses him, whispering, "That's what tomorrow's for." He smiles and is all, "Perfect," but in a way you know makes him afraid. Kelly Jo didn't have a prayer. Nice girl. Didn't have a prayer. Bob confessionalizes that he "could be very happy with her," in a quickly cut confessional that sounds like it precedes the world's biggest "buuuuuuuut..." Kelly Jo, meanwhile, can't wait until tomorrow, when Bob can finally tell her that he's in love with her. Buuuuuuuut...
Well, at least naked Bob shaving could probably save things. Oh, great. There is it now. We're watching Bob's technique (shave down, short strokes, repeat same thing over and over again) as he reports, "There are reasons to definitely want to move forward in a relationship with each these women." Kelly Jo is "vivacious." Estella is "open with her emotions." And, as much as Bob's excited about moving forward with one woman, he's worried about hurting the feelings of another, one who didn't do anything wrong." Except not ask your mom for her life story.
Estella wakes up in retake after retake, coming into consciousness and telling us that she's glad the day is at least here. Kelly Jo, meanwhile, vamps that the decision Bob makes is "going to affect [her] for the rest of [her] life." She really wants him to pick her. Bob, meanwhile, is "much less conflicted" now. Man, he must have had some great night of sleep last night. How much clarity usually comes in that period of time?
Anita! We're back at Harry Winston, Bob telling Anita he has no idea what the hell he's looking at. She shows him a ring that reminds Anita of a "throne."
Montage-ing back to the house, Estella pulls out a box of shit she's stolen from the show since she's been there and put in a box. It looks like a bit like a memory glass, but without all that pesky melted wax or suburban Jewish kids.
Kelly Jo is nervous because this is a "huge step" in her life. She's nervous, but not because she's not going to be the one. She's nervous "to hear [Bob] say" that he loves her. Yeah. Scaaaaaaaaaaary.
Bob picks the ring that Anita told him was the good one to pick. He slaps it down on the counter like he's choosing the weapon an Ol' West foe is planning to use for his execution. Jokingly, Bob asks for two of them, "just in case." Anita doesn't get it. I adore Anita.
In the limo, Bob reasserts his sense of "clarity," saying that he's getting really excited about what it's coming down to. He's about to lose control. And he thinks he likes it.
Estella primps in her simple black cocktail dress, chilling in front of a hotel mirror and telling us that there are "three things that could happen today." Do any of them include space monkeys? Because, if not, we're pretty much certain of how this thing is going to come down.
Split screen! In what I think is real time! This is at the point at which I'm sure I would have made a Time Code joke, had I not double-checked my recap of the final episode of last season and discovered the sentence, "They get in their respective limos, as the split-screen continues. Gotta love The Bachelor: A Very Time Code Special here in the final moments. Figgis. Fleiss. What the hell's the difference anymore?" Whatever. Figgis should thank me for being the only one who remembers. Even Jeanne Tripplehorn is like, "What the hell is that dude talking about?"
Room of Reckoning. Chris "He Is The Parasite, And I Am The Host" Harrison leads Bob in. Chris congratulates Bob half-heartedly, throwing one leg over another and assuming a posture like he's a fifteen-year-old who just got detention. He just doesn't care at all. All slouchy and mad. He congratulates Bob on making it though, asking, "You ready for this?" Bob is. It seems that at some point in the last, say, one day, he's totally made up his mind and he knows exactly what he's going to do. The music they play at this point every week is literally seared into my brain. But it's not really music, so it's not like I can hum it. It's ambient drama noise, and, not coincidentally, exactly the same sound as one completely losing his ever-loving mind from hearing it over and over and over again. Chris asks Bob how he came to this decision, and Bob responds that he took a lot of time "last night" to decide. After the failure of his marriage, Bob wah-wahs, "I just focused on career and fun. And I've definitely excelled in both arenas." And I've got the "Fat Amy, Live at the Meadowlands, with special opening act, The Rolling Stones" concert t-shirt to prove it. It doesn't have any arms. It also doesn't exist. And how has he "excelled" at fun? Chow fun? He was a depressed, miserable, divorced loser with a dead sports career and no record contract. Anyway, that's been Bob's story until now. We keep hearing that his wife all up and left a note in the meatloaf saying "I can do better" or some such ludicrous opening scene of a film where the guy then moves into an apartment and befriends a large, lovable, talking dog or some such thing, and I was under the impression that, by the time he ended up on The Bachelorette, Bob wasn't really better. So, revisiting the "fun" part? Where was that? So it was chow fun, then? Just checking.
Chris points out that there is a "downside" to this afternoon. Bob says that the woman he has to let down loves him, "and has told me this." And, natch. Is that where any remaining naysayers got on board the U.S.S. Not Fooled Anymore By Trick Editing? Chris outlines the fact that the women will arrive one by one, and that they haven't seen each other this week: "Both of them are coming here today, probably expecting a proposal." Well, at least in that respect they'll still have something in common at the end of the episode. Chris leaves Bob to watch his final video messages, in which Kelly Jo tells Bob, "You have my heart forever, so take it." Which is a slightly more poised, if vaguely Céline-Dion-ish, sentiment than Estella's "Um, wow." Um, yeah. Pretty much. Oh, and she says something about their "journey" together, so if anyone guessed "two," you can pick up your toys and go.
Bob stands at The Sacrificial Altar Of Noncommittal Love, outside against an oceanfront backdrop. The first limo pulls up to the front of the house, and with no further -- no, never mind. It's rounding the driveway. Okay, now here we -- la la la la lee lee loo. Still waiting. It's cool. We'll just go into the third hour, if need be. We are in your hands.
Kelly Jo. Kelly Jo gets out. Kelly Jo is the loser.
Kelly Jo tells us that this is "the most anticipated day" of her life, and reminds us that we all used to think that if you felt something for someone hard enough, they'd eventually start feeling it for you as well. Well, you've got to learn it one day, so why not learn it right now on national television, am I right? Because it's simply isn't true. She approaches the altar and stares into the void. She's wearing a red dress with some kind of bar that goes right across the chest area. She practically runs up to Bob, telling him how nervous she is. He wastes no time. He must tell her what he's feeling. He is distracted not even by a tiny Mary Lou Retton doing numerous jumps and flips on the jungle gym Kelly Jo has had inexplicably installed on her torso. So, right, Bob. Let's get this over with: "As much as I care for you, at this point I don't know that we're meant to be together. It kills me to have to say that to you." Kelly Jo is frozen. He asks if she's all right, and she pulls her hands away and says, not entirely unspitefully, "No, not at all." She pauses a second and whispers, "This sucks." It's true. It does. For Bob, mostly. He's still trying to do his "But I'm still a good guy, right?" soft-talk Bachelor voice, but Kelly Jo cuts him off, saying, "I understand." Bob takes her hand and walks her out, still caressing her oddly at certain inopportune moments. Like the moment when he told her that he doesn't want to see her ever again. In front of the limo, Bob kisses Kelly Jo (oh, puh-leeze!) one more time, and she basically puts her foot down and just gets the hell out of there. In the car, Kelly Jo's a champ. A little sad, but mostly that's pride fucking with her. Fuck pride. It only hurts. It never helps. Kelly Jo tells us that her "heart is broken," and that she is "walking away with nothing." She also expresses that she's feeling anger, which I think is an excellent thing to recognize. Because Bob's a jerk, is why.
Estella sits in her limo making I'd-suck-on-a-lemon- but-oooooh-the-calories faces, all yanked out of context and reappropriated to make us think she was going to lose. Didn't work. Chris opens the door to her limo, and she steps out of the car. Estella stares directly at him and doesn't want to go in. She tells us that Bob is her "soulmate," that they have an "amazing connection," and that they'd be "amazing" together. Do two "amazings" and a "soulmate" equal one "journey," do you think?
Bob compliments Estella's shoes because secretly he's still 1% faggy.
"You stood out in my mind in so many different ways," Bob tells Estella, after reminding her one more time that she tripped down the steps on her first night. Get over it, you harping bastard. People trip sometimes, like earlier when you were shaving and you bumped into the '70s and accidentally missed both sideburns. Mistakes, Bob Guiney. We all have made a few. Anyway, he takes out a box and shows her the ring, telling her, "I bought this." Good for you, Gomer. "If someone wears a ring on their right hand, it can mean a sense of promise. I know in my heart what it takes to be at a point where I want to propose to someone. It's not that I'm not there yet. It's just that I want to be sure of everything." Once, I gave my girlfriend at camp a lanyard bracelet that I made in Arts and Crafts. And trust me, that thing indicated a deeper level of commitment than shoving a Harry Winston wherever he can find a fit that doesn't freak him out too bad. Estella cries and hugs Bob and tells him how happy she is. He vamps on, "Every time you look at this, I want you to think about the journey we've been on." He showed intent to say "journey" right there. Does that count? He tells her that once they're in a "real setting," he knows that things will be ever better. Meanwhile, Trista, Ryan, Andrew, and Jen are all, "WAIT A SEC." Bob offers Estella the rose. She accepts with an "absolutely." Estella tells us how happy she is about this "journey." Then she says it again. Twice in once sentence! They do say that the cornered animal is the most dangerous. Bob, ever the hopeless romantic, tells us, "I love hanging out with her." Awwwww. Estella whispers, "I'm so happy" over and over and over again. We pan back from a final bout of smacky kissing, away from The Laugh, away from The Kissing, away from it all, and I'm on my way to a vacation that will last me deep into the further reaches of...aw, crap. See y'all week.