Spill the Whine

Props to Potes and the good folks over at timrice.com.

Sth'Clifford!

We open this week to find Andrew "Tire, Tire, Pants On" Firestone striding alongside a similarly suited "And Introducing Your Center Square" Chris Harrison, the two reaching and climbing a few stairs together from the lanai to the front entryway of the vaunted Housa Bitches. They turn toward each other, and Chris opens his arms widely, recalling the intimacy he felt with Trista and reminding us all that sometimes the bond between Bachelor and Host is stronger than any of us can understand, and, well, Andrew, would you like a hug? No. No, it appears he would not. Left hanging like in so many seasons past, Chris drops his arms and goes in for a totally yeah-this-is- where-my-hands- were-heading- all-along- they-just-took- the-looooong- way-around handshake, asking Andrew, "You ready for this?" Andrew tosses back a spirited "Let's go!" But Chris doesn't feel like he's pumped [clap] Andrew up quite enough, so he repeats the same question quite a bit more loudly, like one of those inspirational sports coaches who says the same thing over and over again in those movies about inspirational sports coaches I'm always scanning past on ESPN Classic when I'm fumbling around the dial looking for a new episode of So Graham Norton. Andrew responds accordingly, yelping, "Let's go!" like the poor-ass scholarship kid who needs to win this game so he can get into college and out of the gang scene, pumping his fist and just failing to produce a gigantic vat of Gatorade for him to pour over his coach after they prove to be the triumphant victors in something called "the big game." Anyway, that's what they look like. They're pumped. Chris offers Andrew a rousing "Here's your first limo," putting one hand on his shoulder and indicating the approaching car with a sweeping and-here's- what's-behind- curtain-number-two gesture before adding topically, "Andrew, let the journey begin." Judges? Journey: 1. Connection: 0. Originality: 29. Our guest judge this week is clearly from Puttin' on the Hits. By the way.

The first limo pulls up -- say, are those Firestone tires you're wearing? -- and we finally get a chance to meet the girls! Er, again!

First out of the car is Tina, who shakes Andrew's hand and offers a simple "Hi" in her simple black dress and simple blondness. We recall a spot of her pre-interview from which we saw clips in last week's non-episode, in which we newly learn why she thinks she would make a great wife: "I would definitely let the guy watch football and have all of his friends over and give him beer and make him food. And then I would leave. With his credit card." And clearly this show has always been where feminism fears to dwell, but that shocking entry in Gilfriend's Guide to Being Your Gender's Biggest Clich set the woman's movement back literally XXXVII years. That's right, people. Back to the very day the Super Bowl was invented.

up is Liz, wearing a red dress that's got a shoulder's worth of fabric missing from it. I like the color and all, but most of that thing is in the shape of a pageant sash that should read "Miss Off The Rack Sample Sale Of Flawed And Damaged Merchandise 2003." Or, more to the point, "Miss Shapen." It's an ugly dress. She tells us in voice-over, "This is the ultimate matchmaker. Someone out there thinks that I could possibly be perfect for this guy who's incredible." Just remember Liz: it's a little less romantic to be hit by Cupid's arrow when it's shot from the bow of co-executive producer Jason Carbone. He's the "someone out there" to which you're referring. Does this whole thing seem a bit less cosmic and magical yet? Yeah, I thought so.

Elizabeth is wearing a dress made entirely from the chaise lounge on Rose's lanai, I think. Vandal! Giant blue flowers against a slightly bluer background. She takes Andrew's hand brusquely and tells him with an overly animated eye roll that it's a "pleasure to finally meet you," offering that he looks "great." Considering her following interview, I think she means that he looks "rich." And what she says is this: "My dad says that he's a father with beer money, with daughters who have champagne tastes. And I strive to get that champagne." Well, saddle her up and hitch her out west! Elizabeth's diggin' for gold! But first, honey, change the curtains that are your dress.

"I've been in pageants for the past five years," Stephanie reminds us. Stephanie has apparently killed Gwyneth (yay!) and made off with her Shakespeare in Love Oscar dress (boo!). Man, has she got some Crazy Eyes. She hopes against hope: "That's what I'm here for. To get that ring. Hopefully he'll see who I am and what I'm about and he will choose me." So confident is she that she hazards a thumbs-up toward the camera after she parts company with Andrew. She wants that ring! Maybe Carbone's arrow shoots at thee.

Christina is also wearing something off of one shoulder, but hey, when you reach her rapidly-advancing age, you can start dressing crazy and the kids aren't allowed to heckle you on your way to the condo complex's clubhouse. Obviously, I'm kidding. She's only thirty. That's not old, but on this show it's made to look unappealing and almost unmarryable, I think. When, in reality, the only unappealing and unmarryable thing about Christina is her feathery, Farah Fawcett hair.

Sometimes, when Andrew says "nice to meet you" -- which is all he's really said so far -- he sounds like he's intentionally trying to make his voice lower. I think the reason he's perceived by many as "cute" instead of "hot" is because he's "twelve" instead of "legal." Is that the twist that awaits us? If not, is Fox reading my recap and fixing to steal my pitch for a reality show called Barely Legal? 'Cause they'd do it, y'all. Just let them try.

A new limo! Say, are those Firestone tires you're wearing?

Christina from Florida is first out of this one. She both has the same name as the girl who directly preceded her, and she looks identical to all of the blondes who have come before. Christina from Florida is generic, both in her physical makeup and in the way that chicks dig cash. How do I know the latter? Here's how: "I've always had a very comfortable life, so I expect the same for my future and my children." She's wearing a black dress that has a weird stringy webbing on the front of it that would make me want to use it for a rousing game of Cat's Cradle and then not give her a rose.

Virginia introduces herself as "Virginia," but that's not what the press notes say. She shakes Andrew's hand with a hearty "Well, hello, stranger." Shut up, Ginny. You don't have a prayer.

Blondes have more name-brand confusion, as the old saying goes. I'll bet Kirsten probably even confuses herself with Christina sometimes.

I told y'all I thought Amy was a groovy local chick last week, but she shouldn't go strapless like I shouldn't go strapless. Her shoulders kind of pitch forward, as if leading the rest of her body. Toward imminent elimination. She stridently tells us, "Not many guys that I've known are faithful to begin with, and half the time when they're romancing you, they're romancing a hundred other girls anyway. This way, I just know who it is. As opposed to not knowing." Strictly speaking, I have no idea what any of that meant.

Of the ever-increasing coalition of Dyed and Undyed Many Blondes (DUMB), I'll grant that Amber is probably the prettiest. She tells us that she's looking for "the one," noting that she's "sick of the bar scene." She's twenty-three! She's only been allowed to go inside of these bars legally for two years! That's all I'll say to that.

Just as Andrew seems lost in his seemingly neverending continued reverie of DUMB, Chris steps into the place where the comely woman should be (thought you could slip in a kiss under the radar, eh, smartie?) and offers Andrew a break. Chris reminds us that Andrew's just met "the first ten," and asks him if any of them made "an impression." Andrew volleys back, "My last name is Firestone. But we're really into wine now." Actually, he doesn't. But come on. Like he doesn't have enough practice with that turn of phrase. What he actually says is "It's difficult to say right off." That's because he only knows the words "I'm Andrew. It's nice to meet you."

Limo #3! Say, are those Firestone tires you're...oh, never mind.

Audree is still a Mormon.

Brooke is still Eddie Izzard in a Brooke mask. With the rest of the girls, it's "rose or no rose." With Brooke, the choice of "cake or death" is perhaps slightly less clear.

Kerri is "educated" and "family-oriented," but worries about "being herself" because that "gets her into trouble." Whatever. At least she's not blonde.

Angela and her helium voice and crazy, crazy prom hair aren't going to get chosen, so what's the point in wasting all of our time, really?

Amy's choppy hair and simple black dress endear her to me immediately. She tells us, "Within the first five minutes of meeting a guy, I know that I either want to rip off his clothes or just tell him to go on his way." She and Andrew shake hands. He likes her smile. She likes his tie. It's love at first backhanded compliment.

And, finally, to Limo #4. They're fucking Michelin, okay?

Ladies and gentlemen, get a load of Heather. She's DUMB too, but only in an acronym kind of way. And the other way, too, that means not so smart. She and her dress have been attacked by the Bedazzler, I'm sad to report. There's a strand of hair she can't get out from in front of her face. The hair is blond. Though not all of it. Not really at the top.

Courtney shakes Andrew's hand but neglects to climb the all-important step all of the other women remember to climb. It's an awkward moment, and she's six feet taller than Andrew is even before she finally finds her way onto equal footing. No chance.

DUMB Rachel finds no shame in telling us, "I do like Martha Stewart." She tells us exactly what type of wedding ("An evening wedding, with my bridesmaids in simple black dresses with pearls") she wants. But she doesn't mention that it matters who it's to, sadly.

Tina and Andrew have a confusing conversation that goes poorly. Here it is now. Tina: "You have to keep me tonight, because I have a lot of clothes I can't take back, okay?" Andrew: "Take back to where?" Tina: "To any store." She laughs at that a lot louder than he does. In Andrew's family, when clothes don't fit anymore, they just burn them. More than they burn rubber, that's for sure. Because it's all about the wine, actually.

Anne-Michelle is still an actress, she's still from L.A., and she's still not pretty.

And now, what I wrote at this point in my first recap of The Bachelorette: "Oh, my god. Enough. I feel like I'm recapping Meet the Phone Book. How many people has this been? Ack! Another limo!" I know it's the height of narcissism to quote my own self, but you've got to admit it's better than another tire joke, right? RIGHT?

Andrew really likes Kirsten's red dress. She tells us in an interview, "Sometimes I can be a drama queen," adding, "I think drama makes things interesting." And she's the first reality-show contestant ever to think so.

Shannon reminds us that she's competed "in beauty pageants since [she] was eighteen years old." She adds, "Pageants have taught me to go after what I want." She and Andrew compliment each other's eyes, but you can tell from the word go that she's just too lumbering to be his type for the long haul. Beauty school dropout. No graduation day (or rose) for you.

Jen tells us that when you meet the right person, you just know. That one time I fell in love in a Hallmark card, the exact same thing happened to me.

Jennifer has a name that sounds almost exactly like Jen's name.

Because Tiffany is last and because she wasn't given a fair shake by her jury of one, let's listen to her whole spiel, which I have to admit I actually kind of like: "I am the whole package. I cook, I clean, I sing. I'm a vixen in the bedroom. Just kidding. Sorry, Mom." Except I like how she does it. Quickly, humanely, and never in a pageant. My kind of girl.

Andrew stands out front with Chris, pretty much the only person around who wouldn't give everything s/he had to Andrew, mind, body, and spirit. Or maybe he would. I'm not here to judge. Chris and Andrew pace uncomfortably for a second, until Chris blurts out, "What are you waiting for..." and barely suppresses the follow-up that would finally reveal the depths of his emotional longing: "...a hug?"

Andrew saunters into the main room, and the girls all turn around to face him. To my endless fury, many of them actually break into spontaneous applause. What has he done in his life to inspire a standing ovation? From anyone? He clasps his hands together with the weirdest humility I've ever interpreted as phony, bowing slightly in that regal way that tells a room of would-be brides, "My great-grandfather dined with Schwab." He thanks them for coming, eliciting an easy laugh with the line, "I'll have to try all of your names again one more time." Ha ha, they live in a brothel. The women force smiles as they claw each other out of the way for attention. Outside, Elizabeth tells us that "those dimples are to die for," furthering speculation that those youthful features will finally fade once he is no longer, by state standards, a youth. Amy is not the last person to tell us that Andrew has "the coolest eyes," which, as I mentioned on the forums, is a lovely quality, but not one that tends to translate to the thirteen-inch cube that is my recapping television. Andrew feigns interest in Jennifer's "I'm a pharmacist" introduction, wondering why people don't all just have jobs that make them debonair and hugely wealthy. Like, why don't homeless people just open wineries? He made the big career change, so why can't they, right? Stephanie tells us, "He's mah ideal gah." Audree likes him. Tiffany "felt chemistry." Amy asks Andrew, "Why'd you do it," and a bizarre exchange follows in which he tells three of the girls, I think, not to throw rocks at each other. The drama continues seeping out of this episode like so many flattening...wineries.