Props to David and Miranda, for dinner and a choice viewing locale that, for once, wasn't the well-worn ass-groove on my couch in my apartment. Oh, ass-groove. Sometimes I think you're the only one who knows me at all. Hmmm. Also, props to ass-groove.
Ching-ching-a-ching-ching, strummity-strum-strum-strum goes the skipping record of a soundtrack that comprises the aural wallpaper for every music cue on this show. The generic, easy-listening quality of it calls to mind not the unfolding drama of complex and televised emotional developments, but more the sense memory of watching safety instructions on a plane shortly before take-off. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for flying Bachelor Air. Please see that all carry-on luggage is stowed in the overhead compartments. In case of emergency, Bob Guiney's ego can be used a flotation device. If that is not available, please note the giant pink slippers in your seatback pocket, which can be used as a raft that only floats to Fire Island. Enjoy your flight.
"Fellas, if you would, come join me in the living room, please," shouts the angstier-than-usual voice of Chris "Host Of Compelling Show Past" Harrison, as the remaining Bachelor 15 grunt and scratch and amble toward the steps, because these are real men and that is what real men do. Except for "sensitive" Elliot, who is not a real man. And neither is "delicate" Rick. Nor is "square-faced" Matthew. Two of them because they're just a little gay. One of them because he's geometry. See if you can figure out which one is which!
Grunting, scratching, preening, and calculating the dimensions of a four-sided shape in order to end up with a regular octagon when you connect the outside vertices of the figure, the men make their way downstairs. The sit around on a plush collection of sofas and divans, as Chris welcomes them to Boymerica and asks them what they think. A general murmur of pleased assent is his reply, save for one or two lispy "this giant ottoman simply will not do"-type things that must just be my imagination. Because one of the hallmarks of this show is that everyone who is ever on it only does it for all the right reasons of finding love, Chris believes that they've never seen this show before. So, a recitation of the rules. Again. But wait! They're different! But not different enough. Not really different at all: "We usually start with three group dates. This time it's a little different. There are only two group dates, and one very special one-on-one date." Oh, fabulous. A one-on-one date with a guy Meredith doesn't know at all, and two dates teeming with guys we'll never get to know at all. Dually effective in the way that these changes are barely concessional surface changes, and yet they still manage to be bad. Well done.
"This is where that white rose comes into play," Chris notes, desperately trying to wrestle me back onto the linear recapping thread. A cut over to Rick sitting on the couch, and...um, you guys? Is Rick wearing a bowler hat? And is he wearing that bowler hat on television? And, if so -- if he is, in fact wearing a bowler hat, and he is in fact wearing said bowler hat on television -- well, then, why is the Gus Van Sant shot-by-shot remake of The Gold Rush taking place in Southern California? There isn't even any snow there! But no matter...that little tramp has got some tricks up his sleeve yet: "By giving you that white rose, Meredith decided you're the man she wanted to spend intimate one-on-one time with first," Chris explains, which we knew last time when he explained it to Meredith. And which we'll hear again when Meredith explains it again to the guys. I'm glad the white rose is a fun new experiment that the producers clearly seem to think is working, but we could use a couple fewer moments of dawning about the nature of the white rose. Meanwhile, over the din of the guys applauding Rick's efforts, Chris unsheathes his cell phone and runs over to the craft-service table, and if you turn your TVs up reeeeally loud, you can just barely make him out saying, "Hi, is Aaron Abramson there? I've called him to explain the nature of the white rose." Because he's calling everyone in the phone book is why.
"I think I got the white rose because Meredith and I had a connection," Rick autopilots, too busy wondering if Meredith is going to enjoy his menu selection of "Vaudevillian Mime Shoe" to actually hazard saying anything meaningful. "When we looked into each other's eyes, I think that we could see each others' souls." Wow. He must feel pretty passionate about whatever he's on this show to sell, because he's got those broad-based talking points for extra screen time down pat, he does. "See each other's souls"? Shut up, Chaplin. Shut up, the great dick...tator.
The rest of the suckers will find out where they're going and who is invited...well, right now. Chris removes a VHS tape from the top of a mantel behind him and tosses it off to, um...oh, let's just call the thirteen guys whose names I don't know yet "Harold." The tape goes sailing through the air and into...er, "Harold's" hands, and it lands with a big, plastic crack right on "Harold's" lap. Whoa, Chris. Watch out with that tape. That shit is analog, and it's got a ton of moving parts. Why are you still using VHS tapes, anyway? Trying to avoid piracy with screeners during awards season for group-date video messages? I can't believe they haven't been banned altogether.
Chris takes his leave to thunderous exit applause. So I guess all you need to become famous in this country now is to say the words "I am famous I am famous I am famous" like how Islamic law allows men to divorce their wives?
Meredith "Like Bland Through The Hourglass" Phillips appears on the screen within a screen of this tricked-out Max Headroom fantasy, wearing -- no shit -- a black and pink bustier and holding what appears to be a racing helmet. A million fingers hover over a million mouse-clicks of a million sports fetish websites, readying themselves to click the "Make Screencap" button so essential to the advancement of their trade. And, sure enough, Meredith definitely plays up as much sex appeal as the hottest "amorphous ball of negative energy I see when I look at her" I've ever seen, as she reads the copy: "Hey, guys. Do you feel the need for speed?" I'm sorry, is this a flashback sequence of the introduction to the first group date from Bachelorette '86? You take our breath away, Meredith. Take our breath awaaaaaay. "Marcus, Rod, Matt, Chad, Ryan M., Sean, and Harold, grab your helmets and get ready to hit the dirt. Oh, and I hope you're not afraid of heights." Wait. Is there really a Rod? Meredith's stiff body language makes me wonder if we've made any progress since Frances O'Connor tried to return Haley Joel Osment to the robot lab in A.I. as she blows a kiss and promises, "See you soon." The guys whoop because it takes almost no incentive at all to encourage this group to whoop. Rick just looks around confused, as if wondering about the long-term effects of "talkies" on his chosen vocation.
Harold's also got his talking points down pat, as, in a Midwest accent that's taken up permanent residence in the hollow of the words "doin'," "most," and "alone," he tells us, "I'm excited to find out what we're doin', but the thing I'm most excited about is seeing Meredith and getting some alone time with her." ["I read in a newspaper here that Harold is Canadian, so he's actually even more midwestern than you thought." -- Wing Chun] Out in a limo, Meredith cops to never having been "on a date with seven men." Neither have most of us, dear, but if you're looking for some primary source information in order to prepare, I'd imagine that the vast majority of "dates with seven guys" also take place on the cheap VHS tapes you so seem to favor.
Following the wafting stench of desperation and hair gel seeping out from underneath the cracks in the door, Meredith approaches the house to find all seven guys waiting for her like slobbering dogs at the door. I mean, I know these guys have all filled out applications, gotten blood tests, been psychologically screened, and left their homes and jobs all for the possibility of getting engaged to a girl they'd never met before, but still, you guys...way to play hard to get, here.
A quiet, understated stretch Hummer ride later and we're on a helicopter, Chad telling us about the trip sitting to Meredith with the color commentary of a trained raconteur: "I kinda liked it, y'know, when our pilot would make a sharp left turn or a sharp right turn," he narrates, "and we leaned into each and we both felt our stomach kinda go, like, 'whoa.'" Wow. Kinda makes you agree with Chaplin that this might have actually worked better as a silent medium.
Way out in a location we're told is called "Coyote Dry Lake" in Paradise Valley, CA (perhaps named so because it appears that the "paradise" part might line the sides, because it certainly seems absent down here valley-side), Brad ups the already absurdly high "dumb hat ante" by throwing his blue-striped skull cap into an already crowded ring. He and the rest of the gentlemen come across a dessert floor filled with ATVs, which he tells us is a good thing for some reason, because "just the fact that we're all gonna get on these ATVs and cruise around the desert in this no man's land was unbelievable." They don their helmets probably as a method on the part of the producers to get them to cover up their stupid hats, and off they go. Oh, ATVs are big dirt bikes, if I didn't mention it and you didn't know. Ryan M. expresses admiration for how "crazy" Meredith was on her bike. This makes Matthew feel "drawn" to her, and he expresses a desire to "make an impression on her." Well, you're doing a good job so far. Just keep reading the script from every other season of this show and Meredith will do the same, and if you've been cast in the role of "Ryan" rather than in the role of "Jamie," you'll come out on the other end looking just fine. Unfortunately, I think you might be something of a Jamie.
You know what excites real men? Date boxes. This is why a simple black box sitting on a pedestal outside of ManToLay Bay (I can't remember if I've used that nickname before...I'll grant you that it sounds very familiar) causes stark girly delight in Ryan R. and Eliot, who just happen to find it, right in the middle of the two of them spending some alone time together. Those two, at least, are probably disappointed to find Meredith staring back at them, this time making with the bling and also, well, the bling, in her diamond necklace, peach prom gown, and white fur shawl. Meredith invites Rick on a faaaahncy one-on-one date. Rick thinks this would work better in black-and-white. Meredith thinks it's the pictures that got small. Eliot thinks he might want to try the dress on if nobody minds.
Back on the group date, Ryan M. steals Meredith off to what he calls "the oasis," a small stretch in the middle of the desert featuring a purple blanket, some tacky throw pillows, some cheap-looking booze with plastic cups, and two fake fronds for a little color. Man, throw in a pink flamingo and a broken voting machine and you could just rename the whole thing "Florida." Out on the blankets, Meredith tells Ryan that he has "a lot of energy," which is first-date shorthand for "you're overbearing and I need you to back off." A slickly edited cut later and her question is about what he feels is missing from his life. "The right person to share it with," he replies, always on point. Er, meaning topical "on point," not The Company "on pointe." He explains, or thinks he does, that "in the twenties, I didn't find the person to spend the rest of my life with, and I hope in the thirties I can do that." The '20s? Like, The Roaring '20s? I don't remember his occupation as listed when we met him last week, but I really don't think it was "Time Traveler." That must be just a hobby. So, he goes on about how much he'd like to meet a nice flapper, see, and they can dance the fastest Charleston in the history of the whole Coolidge Administration down at a real sweet speakeasy, see, but if that damned stock-market crash hadn't sent him to the steel mills to try and have two thin dimes to rub together, he never woulda met his sweetie. Say, sweetie, you interested in going to see Modern Times down at the Nickelodeon tonight? I hear that Chaplin tramp is simply a dream, cookie! ["Twenty-three skiddoo!" -- Wing Chun]
And that's why the thirties will be better than the twenties, according to noted historian Ryan M.
As Ryan M. is in the middle of his mournful remembrance of the depreciation of the gold standard under Hoover, he is soon to be interrupted by Harold. I think. Ryan M. talks in a really, really, really fast monotone about his job goals in trying to bring to life how he wanted to become a manager but then not put his main focus on moving up the corporate ladder. I can't believe this man is single! Meredith, meanwhile, can't let it go on for one more second. She puts a hand on Ryan M.'s chest and just says, "Relax." In a confessional, she tells us how nervous Ryan M. was, and says that she told him, "I don't need your résumé." Seeing as I have absolutely no other way to end this paragraph, I'll just tell everyone that this is usually the time of day when I make myself a lovely cup of tea. But the last time I went to the supermarket, I bought some hot chocolate instead, and I decided to have that instead. What, I ask you, is the point of getting the kind that comes with marshmallows if they evaporate the second you start stirring?
Ryan M. takes the long walk back to a trailer where the rest of the guys are hanging out. "Steam heat in every home by the time FDR is elected," his dazed, trained-to-the-past eyes seem to say. It's a little windy out and the clouds are really low, and the whole thing looks like the photo shoot from the cover of The Joshua Tree is going to bust out any second. Ryan M. reenters the trailer, stammering to the other five guys, "This is really weird, guys." He pours his heart out that he had intended to take this whole experience as "a joke," and that he knew he could never like a girl he had just met on television. Well, that's quite an airtight screening process the producers have set up for themselves, seeing as Chris kicks off every season by telling us that all of the people who have come on the show do so with the noblest intentions and that they're all there because they could potentially marry the person they're about to meet. Well, don't take it from me. Let's check in with Chris one week ago and see if he said anything like that: "In just a few minutes, one special woman will meet twenty-five men from all across the country who have one thing in common. They're all ready to get married!" Well, that does seem to be somewhat at odds with the views Ryan is expressing right now. But. BUT! Things have changed. "This is becoming more and more surreal, because that girl is great." And then: "Now I see why reality TV is real, or works. Because it is real. What I'm feeling is not some joke because I'm on TV. How I feel is actually how I feel." And he can feel however he wants, but if you think I couldn't pick up that whole desert and move it to Pacoima with the strength of the centrifugal force contained inside my rolling eyes right now, you don't know me at all. It kind of blows the lid off the place to have people sitting around a reality television show talking about the experience of being on reality TV, but even that meta-tinged moment does not excuse the inclusion of this embedded In Defense Of Reality Television treatise we're forced to swallow like so much hot chocolate that doesn't have any marshmallows in it.
Back on the bus now, Harold -- wait, who was that other guy -- damn! Anyway, Harold and Meredith lie on a bed together and he launches right into a speech I wish I could transcribe the entirety of, because it is simply brilliant. Here's the beginning of it: "I want to start a life, I want to have a family, I want to have kids. And looking at you, I had visions at the Rose Ceremony, seeing you in that dress and, like, picturing you pregnant with let's say a child, like, I find pregnant woman one of the most beautiful things." Oops! I totally did go ahead and transcribe the whole thing. Meredith shares in a confessional that she was a bit "freaked out" by Harold's speech. I love the wording "pregnant with let's say a child," as if there were numerous other alternatives they could explore when they're the couple they're never going to become.
"Tonight, I'm taking Rick on a date to a Hollywood mansion," Meredith voices over from the back of the limo. I don't mean to sweat the minutiae -- after all, I'm sure Rick is up for going anywhere with the word "man" in it -- but don't they, like, already live in a mansion during the taping of this show? The car pulls up to the house and a suited, orange Rick comes to the door with flowers, the rest of the guys sitting around looking generally pathetic. Off the car goes to a house that looks, on television, a lot like the house they've just montaged over from. Oh, fine. The doors to this one are a little bigger, and the guy playing Chris Harrison is an actual butler, rather than Chris, a glorified butler. He shows them into "the study," where they enjoy some cocktails, and the cookie-cutter getting-to-know-you banter begins anew. Meredith asks Rick what he likes to do for fun. He reads from his own longstanding personal ad, telling her he likes to "travel" and "be adventurous." People, it's okay to admit that you have another life outside of your main hobby of "looking for love." It's okay to say you love staying in and playing Tony Hawk and downloading music onto your iPod and doing fuck-all. Considering the lazy hegemony of responses this show has fallen into, that would actually set you apart from all the other guys. But no. Not Rick. Rick likes to travel. And to be adventurous. But he's not outdoorsy, he goes on, telling her that he's a "metrosexual," adding, "I kinda like to take care of myself and all that." In an immediate confessional, Meredith cops to never having heard a man refer to himself as "a metrosexual." Some of them do, Meredith. The ones who are trying to tell you something. Incidentally, I'm thrilled to see that my Microsoft Word still sees fit to throw that squiggly "this is not a word" line underneath the word "metrosexual," and I shudder for the fact that that will probably not be the case much longer.
Another date box. Meredith is wearing the nineteenth stupid hat of this episode, this time of the "cowboy" variety, when she tells Todd, Ian, Lanny, Robert, Ryan R., Damon, and Eliot to "shine those spurs and get ready to rustle up a good time." I know who exactly two of those guys are.
Back at Metrosexual Manor, the butler brings over a few more drinks, and Rick stops him cold, asking, "You know what I'd love is a California Oakwood Chardonnay, if you have it?" The butler dude really does shoot a look of death, because this is L.A. and that "butler" is an actor taking on extra gigs to try valiantly to get his daughter through modeling school so she doesn't end up on the pole, and this small orange man comes outta nowhere and is all, "Garçon, coffee!" Shut up, Dick. "Garçon" means "boy."
At dinner now, Meredith tries to engage him in a discussion about what he's looking for out of this whole experience, but she quickly interrupts him when she finds him flicking his fork over his antipasto of tomato and mozzarella. He sees Meredith staring, and he's all, "Who, me?" She asks him if he doesn't like tomatoes, but it turns out he was just trying to get the basil off the top of his plate. Whatever. Dude doesn't like basil. I can't look at a raw tomato without an uncomfortable lurching of the middle section of my whole self, and I flatly would not eat one if someone brought that plate to me, no matter where I was. It's not about pickiness; it's about being an adult and knowing what you like and what you don't. The metrosexual dude doesn't want to eat the basil, that's that. Let's see how they would have spun it if he'd been commenting on Meredith's eating quirks.
And, bowling. It's upstairs at the mansion, and they take an elevator to find a room with an indoor swimming pool and a two-lane bowling alley. Oh, man. I want that room in my house. Just see that one of the spare corners is cleared away for a Ms. Pac Man machine, okay? Awesome. ["Djb, I'm totally coming over, and I am bringing the Hi-C and Rice Krispies squares." -- Wing Chun] A devil's bargain is quickly forged that if Rick loses, Meredith doesn't have to feel compelled to give him a rose, but that if he wins, she has to. She lands a strike in the first frame and beats him handily, 128-113. Did they really have to go so far out of the way as to install a camera in the back of the alley for one shot?
Back in the limo now, Meredith notes that Rick has a little bit of an accent. Called "gay." He identifies it as "Minnesota," and asks her if she finds it sexy. "I don't know if I'd say 'sexy,'" she says, "but I like it." She then leans in for a kiss as an apology for her statement, and Rick tells us that they had "an unbelievable connection." Back at the house, they drunkenly note that all of the guys are watching out the window like they're waiting for the return of a lost puppy Mom says she took to live on a farm. He kisses her again in plain sight so that's there's no confusion, and she tells us in confessional that she appreciates the fact that they're "challenging" each other, but that she needs to think about whom she'd like to be with down the line. In other words, pack your footwear, Slipper Boy, 'cause it looks like you'll be needing some new walking shows. And, also, because those slippers totally don't match your decisively orange skin tone.
It's group date #2. A very long white limo takes them right back out to B.F. Egypt, and Meredith tells us they're going on "kinda like a rodeo date." We cut to a shot of angry, snarling horses, and Meredith reminds us that the guys know how she feels about horses. They kick and walk and look unpleasant, and it wasn't very nice of them to do this date to her, is it? I mean, her constantly flinching body language really indicates some deep level of phobia here. But she gamely mounts anyway, and Meredith expresses some excitement that Lanny will be there, because he knows things about horses. The purpose of the whole day is that there's a challenge to get some alone time with Meredith, which I have to say I like a lot more than just having the girl amble up to a guy and be like, "Wanna, like, take a walk or something?" like they're in eighth grade and they're going to leave after junior high and go shopping for some kick-ass Garbage Pail Kids down at the drug store. "There's gonna be a bunch of cows, and you want the white one, and only the white one, to go into the stall. You're gonna be timed." A little random, but there you go. Eliot goes first and and doesn't set the bar real high, and Todd aces the thing at twenty seconds to win the alone time. Good job, Lanny the cowboy. I guess the "good" in "good ol' boy" doesn't correlate to actually, y'know, being good at things.
Todd is wearing a black cowboy hat and a red-and-black Tex-Mex shirt he refers to as his "cool shirt." Over by some bales of hay away from all the hustle and bustle and ticking clocks, Todd tells them that they won over his friends when they put on a shirt, saying that they referred to him as "a fruitcake" when he first put it on. Meredith says that her alone time with Todd proved him to be "not shy" and "funny." If she'd added that he was also "so damn loud that he wouldn't stop screaming," it would have been proof positive that she was actually talking about the shirt the whole time.
Nighttime falls on the range. Buffalo roaming. Me having a, er home-ing. Lanny and Meredith retire for some private time, Meredith noting that he is different from her because he's a "country boy." He whispers his feelings on life to her, musing that there's no one way to find the love of your life: "I don't guess there's really a protocol for doing that, either. You can definitely see the possibility, but it's just an opportunity." Did he learn those from some 50 Cent Words To Impress A Lady And Rope A Steer guidebook he was reading some dog-eared copy of on the wagon train westward? "Protocol"? Like what you do when proto is far away but you still wanna talk to proto? He wrote those words phonetically, in pen, on his palm, and he is sounding them out.
Oh, great. The useless milling again. Back at the house, the men enter. Matthew is the first one in, and he tells us about the "amazing feeling" he inspires. Ryan M. thinks he's going to get a rose. Rick takes a seat to Meredith. Harold sits with her at the mysterious dining-room table, talking about how he wants kids again. Man, does anyone still have Mary's number? Outside, Meredith adjusts Ian's tie and he observes, "You're always fixing me." Really? Because from this end, it looks more like, what's that one thing...oh, yeah, that you've never, ever spoke before. Stop having a relationship that I can't see! It's rude! On the matter of Ian, Meredith confessionalizes, "When I was on The Bachelor, I acted the same way he did. And [Bob] missed out on what I am. And I don't want to take that chance with Ian." It's not that insightful a comment, really, but any unadorned Bob-bashing is good enough for me, I tell you. And I didn't know that Ian has been acting the same way Meredith did on The Bachelor. In that case, I guess I really should have gotten around to saying this earlier...hey, Ian? Sorry to hear about your grandma.
Nana?
Damon thinks he'll be getting a rose, and failure to do so will leave him "unsatisfied." Marcus tells Meredith that he feels "more serious" than some other guys on the show do. What is unfortunate about that observation is that he is black. Some guy whose name I still don't know sits to Matthew, who sits to Meredith. This is the actual conversation. Matthew: "I love breakfast." He explains that he likes eggs and homemade tortillas. And as much as I want to find this exchange as stultifyingly boring as it no doubt comes across in print, I have to say that this is where I turned to the engaged friends I was watching this with and told them that this moment was the best facsimile of actual dating that I'd seen on television, ever. "So, you like breakfast? I love it. They say it's the most important meal of the day. I ate Nutrigrain bars for a really long time, but then I found out that they have polyunsaturated fat in them! If I want that, I can just eat some donuts, am I right? So, do you have any brothers and sisters?" Maybe somebody would like to just arrange a marriage for me?
Ding ding ding, clang clang clang. There's Chris now, beckoning Meredith into the Gloom Room (or, I'm still not doing well with this nickname thing. Have you noticed?). Once ensconced, Meredith tells Chris that this is like "a dream come true" for her, and remembers her own experience on that show and has decided not to send anyone home who "has potential" that they're not delivering on yet because they are shy or otherwise socially retarded in the six cumulative minutes they've had to spend with her so far. Chris tells her that he felt she was "very troubled" before the first rose ceremony, adding that it's his experience that they only get harder from here. But I would say that Meredith is kind of as light and breezy as we've seen her in two seasons. She knows exactly who's going, I think. Nevertheless, she plays the game like a champ, telling Chris, "I'm definitely struggling...they're all great guys, but in the end, I'm trying to find the one that's right for me." Chris tells her to check out the video messages, and takes his leave with the tray of boutonnières because he's much more than just a butler, people.
Todd tells Meredith that he enjoyed his experience with "bronco-busting." Does that mean having sex with cows, or...?
Remember the goofy one from last week? He's wearing a white cowboy hat in his three-word video message. A white cowboy hat. That guy's so goofy!
Whoa! Who's Mr. Giant Head? And, more importantly, who replaced the video messages with the first ten minutes of Time Bandits?
Some guy says that Meredith will get to see the real him if they get to spend a few more moments together. Like, we'll know his name and stuff, if that happens?
Some other guy had a great time with her. Crackerjack recapping for you here, folks. Step right up!
Ian is VERY, VERY CLOSE to me right now! But he's sincere and my friend likes him. He wants a rose because he needs "a second chance." Not encouraging.
Right down to the opening-night gift, Rick is so Russ 2.0, now featuring new and improved orange flavoring.
Eliot wants to "get to know [Meredith] a little bit better." Yeah, maybe on the press tour when you can watch her on Ellen.
Matthew. Square head! How'd you know I was going to say that.
Is that Harold? Whoever it is says, "Every time our eyes met, there was some kind of extra connection." Whoever that is, he should not be calling repeated attention to his crazy, crazy eyes.
Lanny is way to manly to go out of his way to pronounce "date" correctly. He's good and ol' and a boy and we get it. He lines his house with drawlpaper.
Chris carries the roses downstairs -- as you do -- and the camera scans the crowd. Chris retires to pick up Meredith, and upon her return offers this pithy speech: "I've gone on three really amazing dates. There is no doubt in my mind that I picked fifteen great guys. I hate seeing you, standing there, smiling at me, knowing that I only have ten roses to give out today. But I want you to know, I'm looking for the guy for me." Rather than the guy for Eliot. Who is out there somewhere, y'all. Nothing to be sad about tonight.
That said:
Rick, will you accept this rose? It would be his honor. Just when you thought he'd blown it all on a bowling match, the Fighting Little Orange pulls it out unexpectedly once more.
Todd, will you accept this rose? Oh, rose? I'm sorry. He thought you said Rogaine. His interest? Lessening.
Chad, will you accept this rose? Oh, that's Time Bandits guy. Of course he was offered a rose. He is after all, he whom they call The Supreme Being.
Brad, will you accept this rose? Oh! Brad is Harold! Find/replace! Find/replace!
Sean, will you accept this rose? That guy has never been on this show before and you can't even try to fool me.
Lanny, will you accept this rose? Yee-ha! 'Course I will, Li'l Missus! He hasn't seen a woman with so much power since he got hisself an invite to the Sadie Hawkins Dance in Amarillo! Lanny, just do me one favor and always use protection. By which I mean, wear some safety goggles when you fire your gun straight up into the chandelier.
Ryan R., will you accept this rose? I don't think he got one the first time I watched this.
Matt, will you accept this rose? He's so happy he smiles from hypotenuse to hypotenuse.
Ian, will you accept this rose? Ah, the Second Chance Bouquet. For those times when the First Impressions Bouquet is ugly and not to your taste, but when you still don't want to give a rose to a pretty black man.
And, finally:
Ryan M., will you accept this rose? Oooh, Goofy's not looking so goofy now.
Hands are shaken and Marcus proclaims himself "blown back." Damon is sad that Meredith doesn't like him. Back inside, the winners circle toasts to "the ten guys I want to get to know further," and I'm hoping against hope that this show starts to become more watchable again when time gone simultaneously forwards and backwards and I find myself in the '30s.