Ah, three day weekends. Great for relaxing. Having a margarita or three on a Monday afternoon. That sort of thing. What they’re not so great for is keeping to one’s regular schedule. As a result, my usual Monday night date with Ashley and Her Beaus was pushed to Tuesday. And then part of Wednesday. Here’s what I learned during my two-day viewing: Watching this show in bits and bites off the DVR doesn’t improve it at all. If anything, it made it more complicated, as I continually had to re-watch parts because I kept getting confused as to why things were happening and kept trying to figure out who was who because God bless America, these gents seriously all look alike. The posse of Interchangeable Caucasian Dudes (ICD for short). Well, most of them anyway – there are a couple of exceptions.
First, there’s Jeff, aka Zorro. Still in the mask. Sigh. He’s so committed to being a creepy man of mystery that he works the mask into other looks. He pairs it with a wool beanie. He has a sleep mask that he wears over the darn thing. He wears it while vacuuming in his boxer shorts. And he’s taken to lurking around the Bachelorette Manse. It’s probably a good thing there’s not a keyboard anywhere around there, else we’d most likely be treated to some painful music of the night. We were thisclose to getting a glimpse of the man behind the mask, during a quiet moment with Ashley, but one of those ICDs had to go interloping into the tableau and ruin that for us. Pffffft.
Then there are the two fellows who were the lucky ducks to get one-on-one dates with Ashley – William and Mickey. Dates that both took place in Las Vegas. The producers aren’t playing, y’all. Right out of the gate — BAM! Glamorous and out of town set-ups. Perhaps they allocated some of the program’s helicopter budget to make this happen. Oh wait – there are private planes involved. Never mind.
William and Ashley date’s could be dubbed The Wedding Test. Cake tasting. Ring shopping. The Bellagio wedding chapel. Robed minister. Ashley in a white (mini) dress. Let’s watch William visibly pale on camera, everyone. Got to give him credit, though – he played along like a sport. Predictably, he gets a rose. Which makes him uber-easy to identify for the balance of the show. That and the fact that he kept mouthing off about how awesome his date was to the other fellows. Shut it, William.
After winning a coin toss (yeah. I know.) with J.P., Mickey jets off to Vegas to hang with our girl. The coin toss theme permeates their date, as every move they make is determined by heads or tails. Even whether or not earnest Mickey (who takes the lead in some quality – especially by Bachelorette standards – conversation) gets a rose. Thankfully, the coin fell on his side and he receives that coveted boutonnière.
The big old hot mess of a group date (12 Interchangeable Caucasian Dudes!) does nothing to help me figure out who’s who. Save for Bentley (BOOOOOOO), but more about him later. The “date” involves getting into the spirit of the Jabbawockeez dance crew show at the Monte Carlo. Apparently the producers have been watching some America’s Next Top Model in their spare time, since this “challenge” just screams of something Miss Tyra would cook up. The men are split into two teams of six — the winning team gets to perform in the Jabbawockeez show that night and the losing team gets to catch the next flight back to Los Angeles and boo-hoo all the way home. The Jabbawockeez performers wear full Phantom-type masks, which probably explains why Zorro wasn’t invited. Too many masks spoil the troth. Or something.
After the gig, there’s a patented Bachelorette cocktail party, where competitive suitors drink, steal Ashley away for Very Serious Talks, drink, speculate and drink. Our villain Bentley (BOOOOOOO) lets his evil flag fly, making disparaging remarks about our girl to the camera and manipulating her by playing hard to get. Ash almost primitively falls for his line of garbage (“Me woman. You man. You hot. I like you.”) and gives him the group date rose. Gag. Bentley’s talking head moments seem terribly calculated in tone and he’s one twirled mustache away from becoming a nefarious cartoon-esque bad guy. Blech.
Finally, we’re treated to some line dancing, time stealing, trash talking and yes, more drinking — and then, before we know it, it’s rose ceremony time. Most of the guys get roses. Three guys whose names I cannot remember (and frankly, their faces don’t look familiar either) are left out and head home.
Next week: DRAMA! TEARS! VILLAINY! MWAH-HA-HA.
Random randomness:
Quotes of the night:
Clacked by Jane Graves 
on Jun 01, 2011 @ 20:52 EST5EDT
