In all my years in the game I’m not sure there’s been a stronger thirty words uttered on any of The Bachelor properties than those spoken by DeMario this week:
“My Uber ride up here I explained to my driver, ‘I’m going after the woman of my dreams.’ And he said, ‘You know what? Don’t take no for an answer.’”
Wow. I mean, why even bother busting these guys’ chops when they’re already doing the heavy lifting for me?
DeMario may have heard the Uber driver’s advice, but he certainly wasn’t listening. He did, in fact, take no for an answer in what has become a refreshing departure from the norm this season. No overly dramatic buildup, no second chances, just a strong, empowered woman telling the boys when it’s time to hit the bricks.
And it’s about damn time.
Usually by this point in the season we’ve already seen one or two of the spoiled children masquerading as men getting their speedos in a twist because the Lady of the Hour hasn’t been pursuing them. And who knows, maybe the old paperwork did used to say, “Be prepared to be pursued by one woman as she’s chased by thirty other guys,” but we’ve barely heard a whisper of that this season (Eric’s antics notwithstanding, though I’ve never been a hundred percent certain what station his train of thought is headed toward). I give full credit on that to Rachel, who takes no bullshit, sticks to her guns, and certainly doesn’t want any of the boys fighting her battles for her. Come to think of it, the only thing that makes me think there might be anything wrong with her is that she’s starring on The Bachelorette.
Apart from the fact that the majority of these guys are so bland they make applesauce look decadent, it’s been refreshing to watch a self-assured woman enjoy herself on the dating scene. Rachel takes control, speaks her mind, and makes no bones about being in it for the abs. Sure, she has to wade through the drudgery of poorly executed conversation (Rachel: “Here’s to being on top of the world…” Anthony: “That’s a beautiful toast.”), but there are worse frogs for her to kiss as she whittles her way down to Bryan, Alex, and Peter.
And the process has, for the most part – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – worked. We were mercifully saved from a large-scale Blake/Lucas showdown (though we did receive a glimpse of what it might look like if the producers had to fill five minutes of airtime on some other episode), Frederick was sent packing with a polite pat on the head, and I’d be mildly surprised if a similar fate wasn’t awaiting Lee, Iggy, and Eric next week. I’m not saying I’d put substantial money on a mass exodus, but if you made it worth my while I’d be tempted to put down a C-note or two.
Speaking of the cash (because why else would you be here?), we intentionally gave a little ground over at The Geek’s this week. The key to reeling in a big fish is to keep him hooked but not pulling too hard; you’ve got to give him a little slack or he’ll try to run and snap the line. Which is why I advised Matt Damon to bet on Blake going home (won), Lucas staying (lost), and Jack Stone not looking like The Cable Guy poster whenever he smiles (lost).
According to my Academy Award winner on the inside (original screenplay counts), he remains in The Geek’s good graces. Mr. Damon keeps getting invited back, but that’s probably because Kimmel’s still in the red overall and feels his luck changing. I told Matt to be coy next week as I’ll be away on business. I don’t want him losing too much and whetting Jimmy’s appetite or, God forbid, winning too much and blowing the whole thing. I’ve got plans for Jimmy Kimmel – big plans – and it’s far too early to have them spoiled by a string of unfortunate good luck.