Bowling for Dullards

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.