Thursday, January 21, 2010

Ah... Sweet Reality


For me, the beauty of The Bachelor is being intoxified by outrageously lavish and (usually) super original dates that... well... I'll probably never see in my lifetime. The only dates I find myself on lately involve smoking flows, eating perogies, and watching Lady GaGa music videos (Yes, my manfriend and I have a truly grown-up relationship). As I write this on a lovely Friday night, I'm sitting next to a noisy eater on a full bus to Philadelphia; off to meet my prince and travel to his post-collegiate frat house kingdom.

As I sit, in a clusterfuck of traffic and in the middle of a conversation about dysmenorrhea, I begin to wonder what it would be like if real life really was like The Bachelor? Moreover... what if real life was really like this season of The Bachelor? If that's the case, I would imagine this night going quite differently.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Jake would ask in his big-wet-noodle-voice, as he picks me up from the office. Of course I've been wearing a full-length sequined evening gown all day as my closet is an arsenal of special occasion dresses and string bikinis. We would then jump into a helicopter, like how all dates this season apparently begin. I'd ooo and ahh over the beautiful view and fly over Murray Hill to incite gut-wrenching envy into all the girls trying to sleep with my man(Though, in truth, the girls of Murray Hill are just trying to sleep with any man). Then the scene would jump to a candlelit garden; in hand, two oversized glasses of white wine. I'm getting drunk; he's just getting more awkward. We'd follow it up with a rendezvous in the hot tub where I would try to be sexy and probably get the heebies from Capt. Boner-Killer. He would then ask me to go home. Let's face it... we're not cut out for each other.

Ah yes... sweet reality. In all Jake's defense, at least we know he's here to find love. He's been cutting dead weight left and right and I'm excited to see who gets the ax next. Will it be Allie? My once-favorite, now-bitchy instigator whose attacks on Vienna lead me to believe she's in fact, sixteen. Or will it be Jessie? The Courntney Bancroft dobbleganger who's been getting roses under the radar with no camera time. Or maybe it will be Vienna? The Miami tranny that has every girl in the house scratching their own eyes out? My vote? Sionara, Ashleigh, for crying at the comedy club and bringing nothing to the table.

Who do I hope gets the final rose? Kathryn, Corrie, or Tenley. Kathryn and Corrie because they're funny as hell and Tenley because she's been re-virginized (you know Jakeypoo loves that). Truth be told, if I were kind, I wouldn't want anyone with that man-napkin. Oh well... guess we'll find out soon enough!

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