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| Blue Suede Douche |
One day, when I’m feeling sad, when I need to turn thatfrown upside down, I will just hunker down in front of my DVR and replay themoment that Emily tells Ryan that he and his rose-free lapel are getting thefirst ticket out of Croatia.
It’s rare enough in this life when a douchebag gets hiscomeuppance. But to have a camera actually trained on him as it happens. To watch his douchey littleface, with its fancy little beard and smirky little smirk, go from cocky, toconcerned, to confused, to really confused,and finally to downright desperate—well, it was gratifying to say the least.
“That was very shocking,” Ryan said, as the news finally sunk in. “I’m very, verysurprised.” And then, just in case you didn’t catch his drift: “I would nothave seen that coming.” (And then, as God is my witness: “I’m baffled.”)
Of course, you gotta love the guy’s outsized confidence (and by “love” I mean“hate”): “I can’t help but to think you’re making the wrong choice,” he said.
As for Emily, she couldn’t just leave a perfectmoment alone. She couldn’t just let him sulk home, leaving a trail of DrakkarNoir and broken dreams in his wake.Noooo, she had to confess to Ryan that she was unsure about herdecision and even suggest that maybe he wastoo perfect for her. (Ugh.)But in the end, he was poleaxed, adiosed, made redundant.
“Trust yourself,” he said, hugging Emily goodbye. “I mean,you’re making the wrong choice. . .” (Then he added, “Be well. . . I mean, contract a deadly disease”and “Enjoy yourself. . .I mean,have a terrible time.”)
Okay, a few more thoughts on the episode, in no particular order.
•This tank top of Ryan’s alone should’ve been grounds forhis immediate dismissal.
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| Puts the "wife" in "wife beater" |
•Speaking of sartorial choices, when a Bachelor wears ahoodie on the couch—drink! *Collapses into alcoholic coma*
•Nothing says Croatia quite like “The Highland Games” and menin kilts.
•Speaking of Croatia, has 3D technology not yet come to thatfine republic? (Brave is in 3D. . .)I like my torturously-inserted product placements to be accurate.
•Oh yeah, Travis is gone. I’d miss him, if I'd ever known he wasthere to begin with.
•The time has come to talk about Doug, the couch, andwhat will hereafter be known as Ass Gate.First of all, it’s possible I misunderstood Doug. I thoughthis whole humble “I’m just a boy named Doug” routine was fake. But the man hasno game whatsoever.Exhibit A: Ass Gate. He’s sitting on the couch with Emily, and she hasessentially readjusted her position to facilitate a makeout sesh, and he letshis hand rest in the purgatorial region between her lower back and her ass andhis hand just . . .sits there. Doug’s hand is ready to party, but Doug isn’t.This was sad enough, but made truly bizarre by the fact thatthe Bachelorette producers became obsessed with Doug’s hand. No less than five times (I counted!) did the camera pan toDoug’s hand, resting uselessly on Emily’s lower back. It was as if the cameraman was saying, “Doug’s Hand Has NoGame Either.”Sad.
•Speaking of sad, poor Chris Harrison: “Emily, the extra rose you askedfor”—as he hands her the rose, waiter-style, on a silver platter—must be thescene he plays over and over again in his head as he contemplates the abyss.
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| "Struggle face" |
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| "Too cool for struggle face" |
•The biggest problem with the final 6? They’re all relativelylikeable.Now that I know what a loser Doug is, I can't actually hate him anymore.
Handsome, wholesome, blond, athletic Sean is so far removedfrom anyone I’ve ever known in my actual life, he may as well be from adifferent planet—but he seems like a sweet enough fellow.
While Jef strikes me as a bit of a fraud—theskateboard, the James Dean hair, the mysteriously missing “f,” the skinny tieall may scream hipster, but I think deep down he’s a mainstream guy—I still can't help but to like him.
Tall drink of hotness Arie is loveable, despite his advanced-placement-level neediness.
Chris neither attracts nor repels me, so there's that.
And John? Well, he carries his dead grammy and grampy's funeralcards in his pocket, for Christ's sake.
To be honest, much as I hated him, without Ryan, a boringseason may have just gotten boring-er. Be afraid.
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