This week for Secret Bachelor Tuesday Lite---hey, it's Tuesday where I'm writing this, okay?---I thought we'd have a little tutorial. I thought we'd talk about dates. The worst date I've ever been on was to some guy's apartment where we sat on his couch---which was also his bed, since BY THE WAY, he lived in someone's GARAGE, I mean, he paid RENT for this---and watched a VHS tape of Radiohead videos. That was the date. There was no food. There was very little conversation. There was just Radiohead video after Radiohead video and some talk about his toaster oven and his band. (What, like you're surprised a guy living on a couch in a garage was in a band?) Also, we should note that this guy was, like, 27. Which means he should have known better.
(Not that I have anything against Radiohead, of course, I just wasn't expecting "Well, maybe we could see a movie" to mean "Hey, let's watch all my bootleg videos on my tiny crappy TV" or that "Perhaps we could go get dinner afterwards" would actually translate to "You're hungry? Too bad!")
All this to say, of course, that a near-silent date in some wannabe musician's garage is way better than a date in which one has to appear as part of a circus act.
Date 101: How To Make Your Date Really Kind Of Suck, Sponsored By Whoever Handles The Date Portion Of The Bachelor
Option One: Take your date to the circus.
More to the point, take your date to the LUXURY BOX at the circus, which has been decorated like a five year old's birthday party, with confetti and balloons everywhere. Also, then make your date appear in front of a large crowd of people, sharing the stage with various clowns and trapeze artists. (Note: If you are the date in question, and you are neither five years old nor a circus performer, it's maybe not the best idea, JENNI, to say "I was really comfortable! It was totally my element!")
(Also, what the hell, can you imagine being a kid and being really excited about the circus and getting there and finding everyone making a big fuss about the Bachelor and his Bachelorettes being there, like it was some super huge deal? You'd be all "who cares, dude, bring out the lions and tigers!", right?)
(ALSO also, don't parents spend valuable time and money trying to protect their kids from people like the Bachelorettes, with their louche hot-tubbing ways and their unmistakeable stink of desperation? I mean, come on, parents, help me out here: you'd have your hands over your kids' eyes the very moment you saw Solisa get out of a clown car, wouldn't you?)
Option Two: Take your date to San Francisco for the night.
No, bear with me, bear with me; there is a way to make this suck, I promise. What you have to do, you see, is you have to make sure your date is an emotional wreck like Hillary, who will first get a little teary, then downright weepy, then GODDAMN HYSTERICAL as your romantic dinner progresses, merely because, and I quote, "I do want to give my heart to someone, I do want to get married, I really want to love someone, and I just want someone to love me for meeeeeeeeeee!"
(Side note to producers: So wait, first you organize a date to the circus and then you let Brad and Hillary loose in the Ghirardelli Factory to make their own ice cream sundaes? What is this, dating for seven-year-olds?)
Option Three: Have a series of very awkward moments on a sail boat.
First, you need Solisa (the self-confessed Christian!) to give you a lap dance while wearing a bikini. In an ideal world, she will say "I started shaking my butt really fast. It's the only thing I know how to do." Even better? If some other (awesome) girl standing nearby says under her breath "Well, I know who I'm going to hire for his bachelor party." (Who was this girl? I kind of just want her to win on principle now.)
Moving on! For a true sense of awkardness, you need to tell your date "Well, you do seem to have everything I'm looking for." Yup, pretty much just like she's an apartment you're considering renting. Also, when she finally musters up the courage to confess to you that she's divorced (hi, Bettina!), you must suffer a temporary loss of hearing ("what? I'm sorry?") so that the poor girl has to say it all over again, thus doubling her anxiety.
(Also, if you are Bettina, you should buy a thesauraus. You are impressing no-one when you deliver lines like "if I don't get a rose tonight, I'll be so....so...uh....so SAD.")
Option Four: Have your twin brother pose as you at a cocktail party. (Do you have a twin brother? If not, well, I'm afraid you're shit out of luck. In that case, just choose from options one through three.)
At this point, I really need to give props to Mir. Two weeks ago, while she (ahem) most definitely wasn't watching the Bachelor Season Premiere, Mir e-mailed me the following: "The new bachelor has an IDENTICAL TWIN! That's SO going to be the twist. They're gonna send the brother in at some point to see if the girls figure it out. I want to go on record as CALLING IT NOW."
Mir, you called it alright. You are now officially my hero. Will you accept this rose?
By the way, I'd like us all to take a moment to note that Brad's twin brother's name is Chad. Yes indeedy, BRAD AND CHAD. Do you think they have another brother called Tad? And they never get mad? And they think it's so rad? (What the hell, Mr and Mrs Womack? Did you use a baby naming book to get your children's names or did you just log on to Rhymezone.com?)
Oh! But that reminds me! When I was 19, I worked at Abercrombie and Fitch for the summer (oh my god, I know.) One of the girls I worked with was called Girleen. And this would have been pretty darn hilarious all of its own accord, right? But then one day her TWIN SISTER walked into the store to give her a ride home. And her name? Her name was PEARLEEN. True story, Internet. True story. It took everything I had to keep collapsing with laughter across the table of shirts I was folding when the manager called out "Hey Girleen? Pearleen is here to take you home!"
Alright, Secret Bachelor Tuesday Lite over: you now, one would hope, know pretty much everything there is to know about screwing up a date. Before we adjourn, however, I would like to recognize this week's winners of the Most Inane Quote award. Your prize, ladies? Ooh, I don't know: I've got this whole tape of bootleg Radiohead videos we could watch.
First Place: Upon seeing Chad (who really looks nothing like Brad at all): "Either Brad's wearing dentures, or I'm really drunk." -- Stephy
Second Place: Upon being booted off the show at the final rose ceremony: "He did see those very special parts of me because I wear those special parts on the outside, its just those special parts weren't the special parts that he wanted." -- Solisa. (Hmm, special parts, eh? Is that what the kids are calling them these days?)
Third Place: "I'm not going to sit here and cry over him." -- Lindsey. Who then, displaying a hitherto unseen amount of logic, promptly stands up and cries over him. Bravo, Lindsey. It's all about the semantics, right?