By Miss Alli
In the interests of full disclosure, I should inform you that just last night, I blew a hole about the size of a quarter in one of my Firestone tires and endured quite the suburban roadside trauma. Stuck on the shoulder of the highway on a Friday evening and not willing to change a driver's-side tire in those circumstances, I had to wait for a rescue and hope it came on the first try, given the sad beeps of desperation being emitted by my dying cell phone. I am not saying I blame Andrew entirely for this event, but this is the era of corporate responsibility after all, and the least he can do is own up to the role he undoubtedly played. ["Um, I know you're not the regular recapper for this show, Miss Alli, so I'm going to forgive the fact that you confused Andrew with the tire Firestones. His family is all about wine, okay? Not tires." -- Wing Chun]
Previously, Andrew was a tool. He removed the big silver spoon from his mouth on occasion, but only to provide more room for his even bigger pedicured foot. He also appeared to be, not to put too fine a point on it, quite possibly the worst kisser ever. It became clear that the chicks on The Bachelor are a lot like oatmeal cookies: some are bumpier than others, some are sweeter than others, some are closer than others to the day they will go irreversibly stale, and some are less than fully cooked while others are downright burnt. In the end, though, they're all pretty much the same product, and if you're looking for anything else, you're not going to find it in this batch. On the hunt for the cookie of his dreams, Andrew ditched various dollies along the way, including most recently Liz the Earnest Weeper who had "nothing left," and Christina the Vengeful, who was sure Andrew had made a terrible mistake. Christina cried in the Limo of Banishment, looking very much like the 78\% of high-school girls who hate their dates before the end of prom.
And now, it's time for all of us to gear up for Nookie Night between Andrew and his three remaining maids -- Kirsten, whose utterly icy personality does nothing to chill Andrew's punka-punka-burnin'-love for her; Jen, who is the girl you would get if you took the weighted average of every girl who has ever been on a reality dating show, ever; and Tina (Fabulous), who is trying to pull off the very difficult double-deke where you're the soft and mushy girl on one hand and the unfazed and aloof girl on the other. Good luck, Tina; many have tried, few have succeeded. Tonight, Andrew will send another one of these lovely women to the Limo of Banishment to lament her fate and wonder where it all went wrong, other than the part where she applied for the show.
Three women! Two roses! Who will Andrew choose? Do you suppose they'd let him say "I choose me" at the end like Kelly Taylor? Because that would be awesome, and I think if ever a guy was likely to propose to himself, it might well be Andrew. At least his parents would probably think he had found someone good enough.
Fade up on our very own Andrew, relaxing in his dark wicker pool chair in his dark jeans, black socks and shoes, and long-sleeved t-shirt. Oh, and his Ray-Bans. Can't forget the Ray-Bans. God knows 1986 hasn't. He explains that his position grows ever more difficult, as he has now experienced "the pressure cooker" of meeting the families, and now he finds himself falling for all three of the "ladies." I swear, every time Andrew says "ladies," I am yanked out of my reality-show-watching state of semi-comatose bliss and transported to my eighth-grade gym class, where the word "ladies" was used by our gym teacher with a substantially heavier dose of very welcome irony. I am actually of the opinion that the word "ladies" should never be used without irony unless the ladies involved are at least eighty years old and own a lot of Lawrence Welk records. At any rate, Andrew is suffering. Don't you feel for him? Feel for Andrew, you heartless bastard! All he has is wine and tires, and in large parts of the country, that would qualify him to be the subject of a country song. Feel for Andrew!
Andrew packs his bags and heads out for his "overnight date" with Kirsten, explaining as he goes that spending time with her is "a lot of fun." He claims that they have "lively conversations." Lively conversations? Between Kirsten and Andrew? Wow. That's not easy, considering that both of their brains appear to be hand-cranked. Andrew leaves the house in his dark pants, light blue polo shirt, and -- oh, yes -- Ray-Bans. I have to say that, for a rich dude, Andrew wears some weird-ass outfits. The editors try to imply that Andrew's mind is wandering from Kirsten to Jen by splicing in a voice-over of him saying that he and Jen could "be anywhere and have a blast." I guess his mind isn't really wandering so much as caressing his numerous options in a methodical manner. He tells us that Jen "rounds [him] out." I wouldn't even begin to speculate about what that means, but I'm thinking a lathe is involved, and there is probably screaming. At least, I hope so. Jen has, he concludes, "a calming way about her." Presumably to chill out Andrew's wild, wacky, spontaneous, devil-may-care sense of whimsy that leads him to break out the pastel polo shirts before the Kentucky Derby. Tina, he concludes as he lets an anonymous member of the serving class put his suitcase in the back of the limo, makes him feel "very different." Tina has "this energy and this fire." Of course, any woman who actually had energy and fire would certainly fend for herself well enough to avoid this show in general and Andrew in particular, so you know that he's speaking in relative terms only. He says that Tina is "intriguing" and "keeps [him] guessing." Given her history of letting him do little more than kiss her on the cheek, it looks like Tina has mastered, at least for the moment, the strategy of cultivating a certain mystique by withholding physical contact. That certainly is a winning strategy to use on any guy with less than four individuated brain cells and absolutely no background in feminist theory.
As he rides in the limo, a fairly rough-looking Andrew stares out the window as his disembodied voice tells us that while having money, fame, and three hot chicks trying to get in your pants may sound like fun, he feels pressure. Lots of pressure. 1-2-3-4 Pres-sure! Feel for Andrew! Feel for Andrew's plight! Feel for the melancholy that curses through Andrew's veins! Ah, there goes his flight now. The flight attendant hits on him, probably! And he gets more leg room than normal people! And they give him all the good magazines! He's under pressure, I tell you! As we watch his plane take off, Andrew's voice tells us that he is "feeling very confused." Hmm, I can't see him in there, but I'm thinking he's probably trying to work the seatbelt.
A soulless (and therefore appropriate) adult-contemporary-pop riff plays as we move to Park City, Utah, where it's snowing. Kirsten is waiting for Andrew at a resort called "The Canyons." Andrew is expecting an awesome day, because he thinks Kirsten will look just as good in a ski outfit as she does in a bikini. Just as good in two different sexy outfits? I'm telling you, it's meant to be. This show really does give me hope about love. Andrew busts out yet another impressive outfit of his very own as he picks her up in...gosh, is that one of those civilian Hummers? (No pun intended, I swear.) I think Andrew has frankly brought too much car for the occasion, which says one thing to me: overcompensation. He's wearing khakis, which are acceptable, but he's also wearing an army-green long-sleeved shirt with "berlin" printed on the front. Suffice it to say, it does not take my breath away. As Kirsten greets him, she chirps, "Hey!" "How are you, sweetie?" Andrew asks blankly. They hug. "How are you?" she responds, without answering. "How are you?" he says, without answering. I am not making this little dance up, nor am I making up the fact that they don't seem to have any idea they're doing it. She finally says, "I'm good," which is a lucky thing, because I think Andrew could have gone on like that all day unless somebody hit his reset button. He asks her if she's ready for their big day, and tells her that they're going to the Olympic Park to go bobsledding. Kirsten immediately thinks about what this will do to her hair. She doesn't say so, but you can just tell. She interviews that things are getting to be "confusing," because Andrew has feelings (to the extent that Andrew has any feelings) for all three of the girls. How could she have anticipated this complication, other than by reading the explanation of the premise of the show? How, indeed. "I just want to make sure that Andrew comes away with [sic] this knowing that I'm the best one," she says, utterly without guile. How great is that? A girl who will just come right out and say that her goal is to teach the guy that she's the best one? She also says she hopes that Andrew is thinking about her when he's with the other girls. It's funny, because she's so in the spirit of the show that it's hard to blame her, but I hate her anyway.
The love-SUV pulls up at the Olympic Park. Our lovebirds climb out. Andrew unnecessarily tells us in an interview that they arrived at the Olympic Park to go bobsledding, which I guess is an update for those of you who tuned in right at that very moment, and thus missed the part where he told Kirsten that they were going to the Olympic Park to go bobsledding, as well as the part where they pulled up by the big sign that said, "OLYMPIC PARK." I guess redundant systems are the key to any successful endeavor, after all. Particularly if there seems to be a high possibility of intermittent intelligence failures, if you see my point. Andrew explains that Bonnie Warner, a former Olympian and current attentionmonger (apparently), gave them a bobsled lesson and a couple of rides. Bonnie explains that she'll be driving and they'll be riding, and they'll be going 80 miles an hour. Bonnie says that she's driven fighter pilots and a Formula One driver, and they all tell her it's the most intense thing that has ever happened to them. That is only because they have never experienced a rose ceremony, of course. This is what Andrew is thinking as he chuckles indulgently at the nice Olympic lady. She was in the Olympics, but she doesn't know pressure like Andrew knows pressure.
Bobsledding ensues. There's not much to say about it, really -- it's people strapped to something that goes fast, and as I've explained before, that tends to be a non-character-revealing activity, because there's nothing for the people involved to do except yell "Wooo!" Which they do. A lot. Andrew and Kirsten raise their arms at the end of the ride as if they've accomplished something besides being successfully manipulated by gravity. Here's what Andrew has to say in his interview: "Kirsten definitely impressed me today, because I know how amazing she is on a yacht and a drive-in, but to take her out of her element like this and put her up on a bobsled on a sheet of ice, and have her smiling and giggling the whole way, it sort of says a lot about her." You know, I've always said that. Indiscriminate smiling and giggling is a real display of character. Andrew and Kirsten smooch and hug at the end of the bobsled ride, thrilled that they have cheated death. Or, you know, ridden an icy roller coaster. As they leave, Kirsten interviews that she wishes Andrew would just tell her that she's getting a rose and will be meeting his parents and so forth. She's so impatient. We see them take a ride on a snowmobile as she explains that she understands he can't do that. She clearly doesn't understand, but she has to say she does.
Andrew and Kirsten enjoy lunch at an otherwise deserted restaurant, and they discuss how amazing the bobsled ride was some more. They review their history of excellent dates, because that's really all there is to talk about when you're not too bright. "Drive-in, yacht..." Andrew says, and this makes Kirsten laugh through her food, all, "Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm." Because it's...funny? I don't know. "This is only the beginning...right?" she fishes. "Exactly," Andrew says, not listening. She speaks happily about how easy things are with them, and Andrew points out that they haven't yet had their first fight. Incidentally, these two nitwits have accidentally hit on one of the reasons this kind of show is such a complete fraud, and why it's not at all true, as some of the participants claim, that it's as good a way to meet someone as any. Because of the competitive aspect, people are coerced into a completely unequal power situation, which means that the "down" person (here, Kirsten) wouldn't ever take on the "up" person (here, Andrew), no matter how full of shit he was. They'd never have a fight, because she's trying to get him to pick her. And until you've at least disagreed with somebody and held your ground and seen how that person reacts, you don't know him or her at all, really. Yeah, I know, that's a more thorough analysis than the show deserves. But anyway.
In yet another interview, Kirsten says what we've already seen her say within in the last minute or so, which is that she likes Andrew, but that she's uneasy because he could be having just as good a time with the other girls. Back at lunch, Kirsten aims for a casual tone in saying that obviously, Andrew has feelings for Jen and Tina as well. Andrew looks stricken, because he's trying to remember who "Jen" and "Tina" are. Kirsten insists that Andrew doesn't tell her how he feels. He says he thinks he does that, but she says he doesn't really. He insists in an interview that he has told Kirsten that he has feelings for her, but that he simply can't "speculate" about how he feels about "the other ladies" (yech). Andrew seems not to understand that when they're your own feelings, it's not speculation. Feel for Andrew! Get Andrew a dictionary!
Andrew and Kirsten leave the restaurant and go outside to stare at the admittedly lovely but frankly rather clichéd snowy mountain view. "I had the best time with you today," he says. By which I think he quite literally means, "Being with you was the best time I had today." "Me, too," Kirsten says. They sit on something or other under a blanket and smooch, and it's all very...whatever. Mountainous and romantic, I suppose. And then they touch foreheads, and you know that means love. "We still have a great night planned," he says as she rests her head on his shoulder. "I know, hnn-hnn-hnn," she laughs again in that annoying closed-mouth way.
Later, Kirsten and Andrew leave for dinner together, in matching black jackets. They get into a horse-drawn carriage, because honestly, there's really no way to tell whether you like each other unless you have experienced every romantic trapping known to man. I'm honestly surprised one of them isn't being forced to contract a possibly fatal disease so that they can experience the "don't you die on me" death scene. I mean, they could have had Andrew appear to shuffle off this mortal coil, and then Kirsten could have flung her body over his chest and keened over him, and then he could have fluttered his eyes open and said, "All this for a rose?" And then she'd look at him in shock, and they'd laugh, and they'd know they're really in love. But for now, we'll have to settle for the horse-drawn carriage. You'll recall that we just watched them get into the carriage, but that doesn't stop Kirsten, in an interview, from explaining what we all just saw. I cannot tell you how much I hate that. Show it or have them recap it, but I do not need both. This isn't the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and I don't need a special accompanying audio track to explain the visuals, 'kay? Sheesh. Kirsten says she "had a feeling that it was going to be a great night." In the carriage, Andrew asks her possibly the most unnatural question ever, which is, "Favorite part of today so far?" "Definitely bobsledding," she says. Isn't that kind of what they've done so far? Was she supposed to say "lunch"? Andrew tells her that his best moment was when he first saw her. Probably because she wasn't talking, although he doesn't say that exactly. But believe me, I say it enough for both of us. She laughs her nasal laugh again, some more, and then there is more bad kissing. Increasingly, I sort of do think they should get married and have lots of vapid, dead-eyed children with pretty hair and various psychological complications.
Andrew tells us that he felt "like the luckiest man alive," what with the carriage ride (did you hear they had a carriage ride?) and the trip to the "private restaurant" with the woman he feels like he's falling in love with. Wow, how committal. Inside, as they sit at the dinner table, Andrew asks Kirsten what her biggest fear is, coming out of this experience in three weeks. I really wish she'd told the truth, which is, "I am terrified that after this, I will never be on television again, and will have to go back to not being famous at all, and I will have known fame and then lost it, and it will be just like Flowers For Algernon." But she doesn't. She feeds Andrew the morsel he's begging for, which is that her biggest fear is that she won't end up with him. She continues trolling for the morsel she wants, which is "confirmation" that he's going to pick her, which she understands he can't provide. Except, of course, that she doesn't understand, which is why she keeps trolling for it in a variety of ways. He tells her that of course he can give her confirmation -- of the way he feels about her, just not of the way he feels about anybody else. Can he really be this dense? Can he really think that confirming how you feel about somebody is meaningful when it's divorced from the "what the hell are you going to do about it?" follow-up? God. Talk is cheap, Kid Rockefeller. Andrew tells her that even though he can't tell her exactly what his plan is, he would hope she can read his body language. God, that is so cheesy. I'm surprised he doesn't add, "In Braille," and then waggle his eyebrows. She says, "Right, like, I feel you're really into me," and I can barely hear the rest of what she says through my own tears of laughter. This is the best mutual emotional outpouring ever. And also an impressive display of smartiosity. They go back and forth some more about how she knows he could be doing the same thing with other people at the same time, blah dee blah. He calls that the "hiccup" in the whole thing. And by "hiccup," of course, he means "premise." Andrew quite brilliantly surmises in an interview that Kirsten is nervous about him going on "overnight dates" (finger-quote that, incidentally, every time you read it) with two other women right after he goes on an "overnight date" with her. Andrew says that all he could offer was reassurance that when he's with Kirsten, he's only thinking about Kirsten. And I think that's really all that we chicks want from fidelity, isn't it? I mean, we don't mind y'all sleeping around, as long as you're not thinking about more than one of us at a time. Surprisingly, this does not seem to make Kirsten entirely happy. She trolls some more about how she could never have "such strong feelings" for three people at the same time, desperately trying to get Andrew to tell her that he doesn't have strong feelings for the other women. He does not oblige. In her interview, Kirsten tells us that not only are her feelings strong for Andrew, but that they're stronger than the feelings that the other girls have for him. Because she would know, of course. They eat. She trolls for hints.
, they discuss Kirsten's feelings about the other girls. She mentions that she has opinions about them, but immediately insists that of course those opinions don't matter. Rather than take the opportunity she has provided to not listen to her spew about the other girls, Andrew tells her that he values her opinion, and that she should speak her mind. Kirsten admits that she really doesn't know Jen well. This, of course, is because she can't think of anything credible to say about Jen that's bad. She moves on to Tina, however, and says that Tina has "a lot of growing up to do," and Kirsten doesn't think Tina is "ready for a relationship." Kirsten, of course, has the experience of twenty-three years, which allows her a certain perspective to look down on Tina's twenty-two years. That extra year really is the one where you learn to psychoanalyze others. But Kirsten wants to make sure it doesn't look like she's trying to, you know, be a bitch or anything. I swear, I have rarely seen a woman more persistently passive-aggressive than Kirsten. She's all about the muttering and the disclaiming. In an interview, she chalks her sabotage behaviors up to the fact that she's "falling in love with Andrew." Whatever.
This conversation goes on and on, and yet nothing happens. Blah blah blah openness, blah blah blah being together. Wake me up when there's not so much talking.
Finally, Andrew produces the Sex-velope, with its oddly Victorian tone, offering them the use of the "fantasy suite" should they choose to "forego [their] individual rooms" and "stay as a couple." Can you imagine how long it would take you to figure out what the hell that means if English weren't your first language? You'd be like, "What the hell?" And then you'd get it, and you'd say, "Oh, ho-ho-ho, SEX!" And then you'd make a chicka-bamp noise, or whatever noise is used for porn soundtracks in your country of origin, and you'd laugh. And, of course, you would choose to stay in the fantasy suite, because otherwise, Andrew won't like you. That's what Kirsten does, anyway. The funniest part is that after she reads the note, Kirsten actually looks over at Andrew, gives him her best come-hither eyeball, and sticks her tongue into her cheek. I know. She didn't do it on purpose. But still? Funny. They agree to "check it out."
Look, the fantasy suite is pretty! What a surprise. Kirsten and Andrew lie on the rug with some pillows. They smooch. "You're so wonderful," Kirsten happily coos. "I can't help it," he says gregariously. Wow. Can I sign all my eggs up for Andrew Firestone Charm School right now, so that if one of them turns into a baby boy at some point, he won't miss out on learning to say things like that? Andrew tells us that for weeks, he's been waiting for the right time to get "romantic" and "intimate" with Kirsten, and surprisingly enough, with the production types standing over behind the cameras holding the "HAVE SEX NOW" signs, he thought this would be a good time. Go figure. The most notable thing about this sequence is that they smooch and make out pretty heavily without Kirsten ever putting her wine glass down. Hey, it could be worse -- she could be fondling a snow tire. She goes on to explain in an interview that I am unfortunately not making up that she wanted to "stand out in Andrew's mind," and that she wanted her time with him to be the best of all the girls, so she decided ahead of time that she was going to say yes to spending the night with him. Again, there's a sense in which you have to admire the girl's candor -- the people on this show tend to try harder than that to couch their decisions in a certain amount of romantic mumbo-jumbo -- but it's still just plain creepy. She basically did just say, "I wanted to win, so I knew I was going to have to sleep with him." Cree-py. As they make the call to stay over, she interviews that part of her feels insecure about Jen and Tina, but part of her is pretty sure Andrew likes her the best.
The door to the fantasy suite closes. How...romantic?
When we return from commercials, Andrew has put the girl he just screwed firmly out of his mind, because it's time for the girl. It's killer gauzy, the romance that's being brought to bear. He's excited about seeing Jen. They're in Arizona and it's raining, which should probably be taken as a sign from an angry God, but Andrew just thinks that the rain is romantic and might work to his advantage. He and Jen both open umbrellas as they prepare to meet up. Jen tells us that she has "butterflies." She thinks this date will "make it or break it" for her and Andrew. And you know what that means, don't you? Fantasy suite, baby! Sigh. Anyway, they meet up, and they hug, and Andrew tells us that whenever he sees Jen, he finds more things that he really loves about her. They climb into a waiting limo, and they're off. Andrew tells her that he had a great day planned for them (came up with the whole thing himself, I'm sure, yes sirree), but since the rain came along, they're going to...go bowling! Jen looks utterly horrified, but tries to be a sport. "Bowling!" she says. "I like bowling." Liar. Andrew voices over, "A bowling alley, by definition, is not romantic." Andrew is an idiot. Has he never watched a single chick movie in his overprivileged life? A bowling alley is exactly romantic! And so are batting cages, state fairs, zoos, ballparks, and hot dog carts. Andrew has no imagination. Not to mention the fact that it has to be more romantic than the damn bobsled. Twenty romance points are deducted, after all, when you have to wear a helmet and share a teeny enclosed space with an Olympian. Moron.
In the bowling alley, Andrew and Jen attempt some weak banter. They both suck at it, but they persevere. She immediately throws a gutter ball. He teases her. A teeny, almost imperceptible spark makes an effort to appear. She throws another gutter ball, and he kills the spark, because instead of giving her more crap about it, which is what he should have done, he gives her overly earnest bowling lessons. Idiot. She gets one pin down. "You knocked the heck out of that one, though," he says. Oh, there's that spark again. Kill it, Andrew, kill it! "If I get a strike, you have to give me a kiss," he says. Aaaaand he killed it. Much too obvious. He does get the strike. He does get the kiss. "I am the best bowler ever," he says. Heh. I cannot tell you how much easier Andrew is to take during this date than he has been at any other time during this show, ever. As weaselly, phony, and generally unbearable as he is when he's around Kirsten, he comes across as a tiny bit charming and funny during the bowling with Jen, probably because he's less intimidated. If I must watch Andrew, I far prefer the Jen-related Andrew to the Kirsten-related Andrew. Jen and Andrew head back to the resort, Andrew promising "spa treatments."
Andrew tells us that they headed back to the Golden Door Spa for what he calls "an afternoon of exfoliation." Well, la-dee-dah. They enter the exfoliation studio and lie down on tables in black swimsuits. The princess of exfoliation tells them that the staff will be applying turquoise clay, which "will help detoxify your system." No, no! It's not the participants who need to be detoxified! It's the audience! Think of the audience! The exfoliation team rubs on the clay. (Oh, shut up, Clay people. Must you be everywhere? What are you, kudzu?) Andrew moans happily, and asks Jen for confirmation that the mud rubbing feels good. "Uh huh," she says. Jen points out the fascinating fact that this is their second round of massages together. Apparently, someone's imagination is very, very limited. She goes on to explain that after they got the clay rubbed on, they had to go in the shower to remove the clay. Wow, you don't think this is why they compulsively send people to spas on dates, do you? So they can show them in the shower together? I really don't think they'd stoop to that. In the shower, Jen rubs clay off herself and Andrew rubs clay off Jen. She says that she was hesitant to get in the shower with him at first, but "it was actually a little bit romantic." They smooch in the shower, and Andrew voices over that Jen is gorgeous. Being soaked and in her bathing suit probably helps.
Andrew and Jen go to dinner. Andrew tells us they went to dinner, and tells us again -- for the second time in about eight seconds -- that Jen is gorgeous. They drink a toast, and...wow, you would really think that a guy whose family is into wine culture would be able to come up with a toast that doesn't sound like it came out of a book called Prefabricated Oratory: How To Speak From Everywhere But The Heart. Jen tells us that she's beginning to fall for Andrew. How many times have we heard this exact sentiment expressed by one of the women lately? Are they obligated to discuss all the falling, now that they're sleeping with him? Is that the idea? How very retro. She says that she wishes she knew more about how Andrew was feeling, and "where his head is." (Hint: Look in his ass, Jen, look in his ass!) Andrew blathers to her at dinner about how much he loves their time together, and how happy he is to be with her. It's just about exactly the speech he gave to Kirsten to try to reassure her. Have I mentioned how creepy this all is? He goes on to explain that the only way he thinks he could be misleading would be by acting different from the way he really is. He thinks that he "let [his] guard down" today, what with all the bowling and showering, and Jen agrees. They discuss how much less of a grating knucklehead he was while they were bowling, and I do agree with that. (They say it a little differently, but the idea is the same.) She says he doesn't have anything to worry about with the way he's acted, whatever that means. He goes on to repeat almost precisely the bit he gave Kirsten about how he can't tell her everything, but that she should focus on how happy he is when he's with her. She tries to look convinced, and then talks in an interview about how she appreciated Andrew "letting his guard down" at dinner. Andrew's "guard" is apparently "up" quite a bit of the time, despite the fact that he appears to be rather a simpleton. Go figure.
And now, it's time for the envelope, which Andrew produces with the completely smarmy comment, "As fate would have it...." Jen tries to look surprised. Fantasy suite, et cetera. They agree, as the couples often do, to "check it out," which is a nice way to move the action from the table to the bedroom without saying, "So, do you want to do it, or what?" Andrew gives Jen a piggyback ride to the suite to show off what a giant stud he is. Since she probably weighs all of twelve pounds, I certainly hope his spine survived the strain. They enter a luxuriously appointed, and to my eye completely boring, hotel suite. Andrew says Jen's eyes got "as big as saucers." I'm sorry, isn't that simile from eighteenth-century novels about Christmas? I mean, can your eyes get "as big as saucers" in any situation other than upon seeing a plate of elaborate pastries after a lifetime living in an English hovel? Andrew and Jen sit on the couch and canoodle, discussing the sound of the rain. Jen interviews that "it felt right" and that they "fit." However, she also says, "The thing I'm most afraid of is getting my heart broken." Well, sure. What if you came so close to being with the wonder that is Andrew, and then you lost him? I know that would certainly break my heart. Or it would, if he didn't dress like such a weenie. Nice baby blue button-down, Li'l Vintner. "Jen gives me sort of a warm feeling in my stomach," Andrew tells us as they make out, apparently having a limited understanding of his own anatomical geography. Along those same lines, Andrew tells us that he, too, is interested in finding out where his head is. (Look in your ass, Andrew, look in your ass!)
Andrew asks Jen whether she thinks that they should stay in the fantasy suite. She nods happily, just proud to represent the middle layer of Andrew's Girl Sandwich. Andrew works his favorite studly move some more -- that would be Pushing The Hair Out Of Your Eyes Even If It Is Not In Your Eyes To Begin With -- and we're mercifully out. No door-closing shot. Maybe they did it with the door open.
When we return from commercials, we swoop down over the ultra-green mountains and ultra-blue water of Hawaii. Wow, Tina gets Hawaii and Kirsten got Utah. How equitable. (Nothing against Utah -- I love any lake featuring several feet of rotting brine shrimp.) The palm trees blow in the breeze as Andrew tells us that he's here in "sunny Hawaii" to see Tina. He tells us that today is all about finding out whether Tina will ever open up to him, and "if she wants to be here." Andrew waits on a stretch of white sand, and as Tina approaches in her very small bikini, Andrew says that remarkably, seeing her on the beach reminded him of how much he missed her. They hug, and he gives her two of the three leis he's wearing around his neck. Oh, for God's sake, I'm not doing that joke. Tina voices over that in her mind, Jen and Kirsten already have the last two roses, so she's just spending the day trying to steal one of them away. Keep that in mind as you observe the totality of Tina's behavior, and see it if doesn't give you the creeping skeeves.
Andrew and Tina walk up the beach yapping about how it's her first time in Hawaii, they're both happy to be here, blah blah blah. They sit down on the beach and enjoy a picnic, where Andrew seems to be trying to quiz her about what she's thinking, but in his inimitable Andrew way, it comes out like a verbal version of an abstract painting, where you can sort of see what the words are supposed to be doing, but there's no literal interpretation that is satisfactory. She says that she came to the show to find out whether there was a possibility she'd like him and so forth, and now she does, so that's just swell, and on and on. He asks her what she would do with herself in San Francisco, since obviously she would come and live where he is. No point discussing any sacrifices that Andrew might make. I mean, she's trying to get him to pluck her off the showroom floor like a new Ferrari, after all, and there's no point in putting it right on the window sticker that he might have to learn to drive differently. Anyway, Tina says that she wants to have her own salon and day spa. Andrew seems amused by this, as he probably is by all ambitions that don't involve building your fortune on grapes and rubber.
Tina joins the veritable chorus of women telling us that they are "falling for Andrew," but she also joins the chorus of women telling us that the situation isn't particularly pleasant, with the need to compete and the threat of being conspicuously dumped. Andrew and Tina wade in the blue water holding hands, looking just like an ad for a very effective but very discreetly delivered marital aid. She talks to him about how she knows he's had two other dates, and he (1) tells her not to worry about the other girls, and (2) pushes the hair out of her face. You know, I'm starting to get hip to Andrew's routine. They smooch. Andrew tells us that he and Tina both feel that there's been "lost time," because they haven't had individual dates. He leaves out the part where a good bit of this was Andrew's own choice to pursue other girls, and that none of it was Tina's decision.
Andrew and Tina leave the beach and head to a lagoon where some dolphins are jumping happily in the air. It turns out that the first phase of their date is going to involve swimming in the dolphin lagoon. They frolic, they kiss the dolphins, they learn to make the dolphins dance on command...it's just a big old fish-errific love scene. In an interview, Andrew basically says that, as much fun as the dolphins were, what he's really looking forward to is the evening, with its promise of dinner, more hair-pushing, and perhaps a door-closing shot if he's really lucky. I have to say that of all the dates I think would do nothing for your sense of the other person and what he's really like, the dolphins may be the champion. King of the Meaningless Bachelor Dates -- that is a hard-earned title.
Later, Tina and Andrew have lunch -- wait, didn't they have a picnic before? Was that brunch? I'm so confused. They talk about what an "amazing day" it was, with the fish-kissing and everything. Tina claims in an interview to have had a "rush of emotions" at dinner, but you can't really tell, because he's busy -- you guessed it -- pushing her hair back. That's really not a bad move, but you cannot do it every three minutes, or the girl will start to think you don't like the way she wears her hair. Or that you're overly interested in her forehead. "I'm falling for you, and I'm scared," Tina finally says in a way I simply don't find convincing. "Why are you scared? I want you to fall for me," Andrew says. Jesus, fuckwit, she's not scared of not pleasing you right at this particular moment. How clueless can one weasel be? And now, Round Three of the obligatory discussion about the other girls. As fascinating as ever.
They watch the sunset from the roof of their hotel, both looking very bored, actually. Tina voices over that she doesn't like talking about her feelings (you know what private people some of these dating-show contestants are), and she says that she takes Andrew's failure to in any way reciprocate the feelings she expressed to mean that they are mutually not entirely ready to commit to each other. Hmm, that's...an interesting interpretation. They smooch in front of the sunset.
Back from commercials, and the terrifically inventive visual of there-goes-the-sun, here-comes-the-moon is used to convey that it is evening. You might have been able to tell from the fact that it's now dark, but remember, it's really the journey that matters, not the destination. We knew it was night, but we needed to know how that happened. Anyway, Andrew and Tina go out to a little gazebo where a fancy dinner has been laid out. She explains in an interview that she was nervous about dinner, because she's feeling a little bit vulnerable. Andrew gives another very bland toast. Andrew starts quizzing Tina -- who is, remember, one year younger than Kirsten -- about whether her extreme youth might be any kind of problem. She says that although she is young, she thinks she's ready for a relationship. He asks her if she's interested in having a family, and she says yes, she is, but not immediately. He says something about getting an idea of what she's feeling, and she asks if he's having trouble reading her or being able to tell how she's feeling. He says no, turning down an obvious opening to talk to her about how she's feeling. Of course, this is because Andrew does not care how she's feeling. Andrew cares only about how Andrew is feeling, which you can tell because he turns the topic back to himself by asking Tina whether she has "concerns or questions" she wants to raise with him. Tina tells us that she was surprised when Andrew dug into these topics -- she doesn't know, of course, that Kirsten has practically cracked a rib with the strain of planting the seed in Andrew's teeny brain that Tina is too young and wild to have a family or make a satisfactory wife.
Blah blah blah, Andrew tells Tina he's comfortable and happy with her -- just as he did with Kirsten and Jen. It must be nice to be the kind of person who can spout crap like that with such convincing earnestness without feeling any sort of embarrassment. "I just want to let you know how much I enjoy being with you," says Andrew. It occurs to me that Andrew never just says how he feels, or explains how he feels. He treats his feelings as a commodity to be discussed. He wants to tell you how he feels. He wants to let you know how he feels. He wants you to understand how he feels. He doesn't just say, "I enjoy being with you," he has to say, "You should understand and note that I enjoy being with you." It all feels very clinical and weird, and it comes across like strategic emotion deployment, rather than actual conversation. Strange. Andrew talks about how he's seen so many sides of Tina during the approximately five minutes he's spent in her company, and now he's seeing her nice, sweet, please-please-pick-me side. Of course, this is Andrew's favorite.
And now, the envelope please. Forego your individual rooms, stay as a couple, et cetera. "What do you think?" Andrew says. "I think it'd be wonderful," says Tina, who has already told us that she thinks she's on the ropes. Do you really think she felt free to say no? I have to say that this whole thing actually bothered me in a way that this show usually doesn't, because I did become convinced that Andrew knew all along what he was going to do at the rose ceremony. If that's the case, then what does it say about Andrew that he knows he's not going to pick Tina, and that he knows that Tina knows she's the underdog, and that he therefore knows she's doing this to try to get out of her underdog position, which he knows isn't going to happen? This is the part where the guy goes from being a vague dullard to a genuine asshole -- at least to me.
Andrew and Tina retire to the fantasy suite, which again is generic and boring. Lots of candles, in case they're in the mood for arson later. They stand out on the balcony, and Andrew uncorks some champagne, but the sound guys unfortunately don't insert someone going "Oof!" like they used to every time Evan Marriott opened a bottle. That would have been cool if they had, but it also would have required this show to have a sense of humor, which it most certainly does not. Smooching ensues. Unsurprisingly, they decide to stay in the suite for the night, but first, they have to make out in the Jacuzzi, because there hasn't been a Jacuzzi makeout session yet in this episode, and there is the FCC to worry about. Tina claims in an interview to be falling in love with Andrew, and to be terrified that she'll be sent home and won't get to be with him. Indeed, I can think of little that would be more terrifying than not ending up with Andrew, with the possible exception of ending up with Andrew. Door-closing shot. Followed, in a special bonus moment, by a shot of Andrew and Tina arranging a sheet to cover the windows, because the curtains are apparently shot in the "fantasy suite." Once the sheet is up, we get very special moaning and panting coverage, which I don't recall this show specializing in before now. That's more a Joe Millionaire/Married By America thing. I'm surprised to see such a tacky move from this, the Pride and Prejudice, if you will, of shows about people desperately trying to sell themselves as romantic prospects.
Back from commercials, Andrew sits down with Chris to discuss this decision. Chris claims that Andrew has never seemed so tense in the past. Well, of course not. This is, after all, the most dramatic rose ceremony ever. Andrew explains that although past ceremonies have been important, this is "crucial." Ah, like all of us, Andrew received a thesaurus for his high-school graduation -- I'm so happy he's putting it to good use. He says that he feels a responsibility not only to himself, but to his family, because he doesn't want to bring home a yahoo like Tina just because he has just enjoyed an "overnight date" with her. At least that's what I think he's thinking, not that he would admit to it. He claims that there are "three amazing ladies," and that he doesn't know for sure what to do. There's a lot of blather about how it's so hard to choose, which I don't believe at all. As I said, I believe Andrew has known all along what he was going to do.
Time for the video messages. Kirsten tells him that Park City was the best date she's ever been on, and that she can't wait to meet his family. He smiles blandly. Jen thanks him for the time in Arizona, and says she hopes for a rose. He smiles blandly. Tina tells him that she's had a fabulous time in Hawaii, and that she hopes for a rose. He smiles blandly. Boy, I'll bet that was an important sequence in the grand scheme of things.
Andrew stares at the pictures of the three remaining women, and lies that he has changed his mind a hundred times. He tells us, as Kirsten is led to the living room, that he thinks he could fall in love with her and is falling in love with her. He tells us that he "loves being with" Jen, and that he was impressed by the fact that she was great at the bowling alley, at the spa, and at dinner. It's all about range, really. Tina, he says, is difficult to figure out, but that he likes that about her. As Tina enters for the rose ceremony, we see that she is really working the helmet hair this evening, and has it dramatically all swept directly back and sprayed to within an inch of its life. That hair is not moving. In his deliberation room, Andrew tells us that the decision is difficult, because he's "falling for more than one lady." That would make a great title for a phony-soul song in about 1974. "More than one lady," indeed. He claims to be concerned about making a mistake. Liar.
When we return from commercials, it's time for the rose ceremony at last. Chris comes and makes an unusually passionate pitch for any woman who doesn't really and truly want our wonderful Andrew to please turn down the rose. He goes out of his way to emphasize just how hard this decision is for poor Andrew. "I think we all realize just how serious this has become," Chris says. Well, I certainly do. I am in fact often preoccupied these days with thoughts of the seriousness of this situation. He leaves to go get Andrew.
Andrew makes a boring, rather insulting speech about how hard the deliberations have been, and his "incredible journey," and how lucky he is, and how far he's come from the twenty-five special-ordered babes he started out with. He blathers mostly about himself, as usual.
Andrew gives the first rose to Jen, which basically blows any suspense they could have hoped to create, because it's obvious that any shot Tina ever had was dependent on bouncing Jen. For whatever reason, Andrew is utterly bewitched by Kirsten, so you know Tina is out as soon as Jen's name is announced. The wait for the announcement of Kirsten's name is amusingly interminable, to the point where it borders on self-parody, but eventually Andrew gets there. Jen smirks smugly at Tina -- not a nice Jen moment. Chris tells Tina to say goodbye, so she hugs the other women, including Kirsten, who worked so hard to make sure Andrew bounced her. Touching, really. As he walks her out, Andrew voices over that Tina has many amazing qualities, including fire and confidence. We know, however, that Andrew is attracted to neither fire nor confidence, so this outcome should really be no surprise, I guess. He claims that he could never feel comfortable with her emotionally. He sits Tina down outside and condescendingly thanks her for everything. He gives her what I think he envisions as a really warm speech about how he wishes they'd had more time together and wishes things had gone differently. She listens patiently and nods understandingly. When he's through, she thanks him, gives him a kiss and a hug, and takes off for the limo.
Once he's fed her into the limo and it leaves, Andrew has the absolute fucking nerve to voice over that he was "crushed," because he put himself out there for Tina, and she failed to open up to him and give him a "heartfelt goodbye." He's upset that she wouldn't "meet [him] halfway." Let me get this straight. You sleep with her, you dump her on television the day, and then you expect that she's going to stand around and feed your ego about how wonderful you are and how heartbroken she is, and then assure you that there are no hard feelings? You expect her to be emotionally generous when you have just rejected her? Jesus. The mind just reels at the sense of entitlement. Can one guy be that lacking in self-knowledge? Is that even possible?
In the limo, Tina voices her theory again that she was behind in the running from the beginning, and that she didn't really like feeling like she was playing catch-up to begin with. She says that because she never got any time alone with Andrew, she didn't really have time to give him her whole heart. But, she says, she doesn't know if she would have, because life with Andrew would undoubtedly have ended her pursuit of her own goals, which I have no doubt is entirely true. She winds up and delivers the following wallop right to Andrew's metaphorical bread basket: "I don't think that being barefoot and pregnant on a vineyard is fabulous. At all." Ha! Highlight of the episode.
Inside, Andrew drinks with Jen and Kirsten. Could these three people be any more boring if they were genetically engineered to be boring? I'm serious. You could get a lot of guys in a lot of white coats together with a lot of little test tubes, and you could give them many, many gallons of hydrosoporific dullenate, and they would struggle to invent a nasal spray that could render anyone this devoid of interesting human qualities.
week: Who cares?