Reality Bites: The Bachelor
It goes on until the much vaunted "surprise guest:" Kacie, from Bachelor season 16 or something. Naturally, all the other women could identify her as "Kacie from 'Ben's season'" immediately.
A dramatic reenactment.
I've (half) joked in the past about how people who voluntarily watch televised torture porn like Criminal Minds and Law & Order: SVU have mental problems, but I think Bachelor fans could give them a run for their money. After all, those shows only require you to subject yourself to an hour of abuse. Hell, the reality programs I (half) jokingly champion at every opportunity (Cheaters, Duck Dynasty) only demand 30 minutes of my precious time. *Two hours?* After 20 minutes of this, or American Idol, I start developing "situational Tourette's Syndrome" and sputter curses at anyone within earshot. After 45 minutes, I'd killed half a bottle of Woodford Reserve. Forced to watch this on a weekly basis, I'd probably end up snorting powdered human adrenal gland.
I'm a little fuzzy on the rules, but it doesn't look like everyone gets designated couch time with the bachelor. From the get-go, the women have to (figuratively) scratch and claw for advantage. It's not helped by Sean handing out roses willy-nilly, giving 12 of his available 19 away before the official ceremony. This is what passes for "shaking things up" on a program that, as far as I can tell, is only one step removed from sanctioned polygamy.
Some of the rose recipients are a surprise: Lindsay exited the limo in a wedding dress and proceeded to get completely 'faced at the mansion (don't worry: both Houston contestants are also in, in spite of Robyn's cartwheel snafu). Meanwhile, some of those who don't receive a rose are no surprise at all: Ashley P, who quickly becomes 50 Sheets to the Wind, decides to shake her ass throughout the house, before wiping out on some stairs. Someone should've used that necktie to shackle her to the wall.
By night's end, it's easier to name those who didn't receive a rose: Ashley H, Ashley P (eliminating two of the three Ashleys), singing Kelly, Keriann (?), Lacey (??), Lauren (the Italian who told Sean her father would break his legs if he broke her heart ... smart move) and Paige (The Curse of Bert Convy). A suddenly introspective Kelly offers what passes for an epiphany: "Sometimes it's easier to focus on things that make yourself happy." Too bad she didn't come to this realization before hauling her ass across the country.
So this is where we are, decades after putting a human being on the moon and conquering the atom, relationship-wise we've somehow reverted to a neo-Victorian construct that is barely superior to the arranged marriages repudiated by so many in this hemisphere. Here are 26 women perfectly agreeable to the notion that firm pecs and a nice smile will be enough to usher them into some mythic, Disney-esque existence, the history of the show itself notwithstanding (the bachelors and their "winners" are 1 for 16 in lasting relationships, in case you cared). And there are 6.81 million others perfectly fine with that.