Before we get down to brass tacks, let’s make one thing abundantly clear: Becca won. Becca won everything. She won The Bachelor by receiving the final rose. She won the breakup. She won at life by not having to spend it with Arie. She will be the next eponymous star of The Bachelorette. She is a Charlie Sheen meme made flesh.
The people who bet money on Lauren B. (which would have included this bookie) will likely argue that since she ultimately ended up with the engagement ring that she’s technically the winner. But what victory did she achieve in ending up with Arie Luyendyk Jr.? She’s forgiven him for choosing another woman over her because he finally came back around, but Arie’s already established himself to be lacking in the scruples department by concurrently telling multiple women he loves them, trying to reconcile with his ex while engaged, waiting for said ex to confirm she’ll take him back before ending his engagement, and setting his fiancée up for a nationally televised breakup. What a prize.
Whenever Arie’s choices have come into question, he leans on a theme of what it’s like “to be the Bachelor.” There is no doubt a level of brainwashing exerted upon the central character that’s only slightly less severe than what’s pressed upon the candidates, but it’s certainly not something that 99.99999% will be able to relate to. Say, “Love makes you do stupid things,” or even, “I wasn’t thinking clearly” – anything but the angsty teenage cry of, “You don’t know what it’s like to be me!”
And though it’s factually true that we will never know what it’s like to be Arie (and thank the Big Guy Upstairs for that), we all know what it’s like to be Becca and have the rug ripped out from under us. Thankfully we will never have to suffer it on national television, mostly because none of us would be able to handle it with the same aplomb she displayed. It would have been easy for her to have an ugly cry, swear a blue streak, or even give into the trappings of a breakup and give Arie that hug he so desperately wanted, but she maintained her dignity in the face of multiple rolling cameras.
Her ability to control her emotions is only one of the reasons she’s going to make a next-level Bachelorette; the real icing on the cake is that she is intolerant of anyone’s bullshit – and the contestants on The Bachelorette are chock full of that. This season we were given the treat of watching her cut not one but two undeserving jabronis down to size, a task she completed almost effortlessly. She might break a sweat with her next twenty-nine failed suitors, but I wouldn’t put money on it.
Of course, that might not be a problem. While there were more than a few bets on Becca winning The Bachelor, there wasn’t anyone banking on her being with us for another ten weeks. And that’s what we in the gambling business call a windfall. I wouldn’t quite classify it as retirement money, but I can take a well-earned break if I want it. Frankly, after five hours’ worth of finale, dodging the Reality Steve’s of the world for months, watching Chris Harrison smugly smile through a nationally televised heartbreak that his people helped engineer, and having to sit through tens of hours of television to confirm something I knew within two minutes – that Arie is the worst – I could use the time off. Hell, I think we all could.