“The Bachelorette” Episode 4 Recap: Is That Quinoa!?

This season continues to be the dingleberry on the ass of the entire Bachelor/Bachelorette series – hanging in there despite everyone’s desire to wipe it from our memories.  Tears were shed, pink shirts and bright blue knee socks were donned, and insults regarding age were hurled, and that’s just the guys.  I’ve seen more masculinity on the Bravo Network.   As if to make it worse, the guys were flown to Bermuda, and then showed up at their hotel on scooters, looking like the Sons-of-Anything-But-Anarchy.  Of course, Ricky was right there, too, making us wonder when Chris Harrison is finally going to show up and say, “This is the final rose…ever.”

Foster System/Token Dad Doug was the first to get some one-on-one time with Emily, and rather than embrace it, he kept talking about his packed suitcase, which made the guys in the house (mostly Arie) decide to kick him when he was down.  Doug and Emily proceeded to walk around town, as Emily is very big on making everything seem like what a normal, married couple would do (read: very fucking boring).  The only interesting thing that happened was Emily nitpicking over Doug’s answer about what his ex-girlfriends might complain about, certain he was hiding something from her.  Sadly, he’s just that boring.  She ultimately relented and gave him a rose, and then he started to flop sweat over the fact that he was supposed to kiss her and didn’t.  “If Emily wants a kiss, she’ll let Doug know.”  His use of the third person confirms he’s either an asshat, or he has Multiple Personality Disorder.  Let’s hope for the latter, and that his more exciting alter-ego shows up later.

The group sailing date was actually the only glimpse of excitement in the whole show, with a red and yellow team racing each other for a chance at sharing some beach time with Emily that night.  Of course, they had to ruin everything by calling each other “Nancies.”  Mercifully, no one dared to throw out a “Your mom sailed faster on my dinghy last night” joke.  The yellow team won, and ABC pulled no punches in showing the red losers sulking en route back to the hotel, with Charlie bawling his eyes out.  There, there now.  At least you’ll be kicked off later in the show and won’t ever have the chance to redeem yourself in the eyes of America.

Ryan has single-handedly been carrying the show on his shoulders, taking on the role of arrogant asshole with verbal diarrhea, which is the perfect mix when it comes to this series.  During the group date, he referred to Emily as the “trophy wife,” and then proceeded to give her a dressing-down for not using her powers for good when it comes to being a good role model for young girls.  Basically, he took a pot shot for her game of tonsil hockey with Arie the week before.  Instead of getting defensive, she noted on camera that it wouldn’t even be a thing if this were “The Bachelor,” which is very true.  But it was fun watching him pretend to be offended by such amoral behavior, calling it his “due diligence.”  Major Douchebag, reporting for duty, sir.

Entrepreneur (read: unemployed) Jeff, he of the wall of hair and blue knee-high socks, got the rose for finally saying he liked Emily on the beach.  And Ryan scored more “promote Ryan” time, sitting by the fire with longhaired Michael, who I think may have just walked in off the street (seriously, have they ever shown that guy before?).  As they sat and gazed awkwardly at the fire together, Ryan revealed his ultimate plan to become the next Bachelor, ensuring that he will absolutely never be the Bachelor.

Next up was the dreaded two-on-one date, created by the Machiavellian producers behind the show to be as cruel to these two guys as possible.  It’s basically the equivalent of American Idol asking the finalist to sing once they’ve just been kicked off the show.  This may have been the most awkward one in the show’s history, taking place in a cave where you could literally hear the water drops.  No one was saying anything at first, so Nate a bit too excitedly asked, “Is that quinoa!?” like he had just happened upon the cure for cancer.  Emily then took him aside, and he proceeded to verbally dump all the reasons why everyone in his life just loves him, and then he cried.  Did I mention he was wearing a pink linen shirt, a blazer, and cuffed jeans with no socks and docksiders?  I’m starting to wonder if the casting notes for this season read something like “Seeking metrosexual males who may or may not menstruate.”  John, or “Wolf” as he’s apparently known and should be kicked in the nuts for, basically got the rose by default, as he didn’t wet or shit himself, which is probably all it took to beat out Nate.

In the end, mystery man Michael and Charlie got their walking papers, and both cried like itty bitty babies, ensuring that no woman will ever touch their pee pees again.  Kidding (sort of)!  There’s some hope for next week, as someone (who I think is Kalon) refers to Ricky as baggage, giving a name to what they’re all thinking.

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  1. rashel says:

    AWESOME! Much more enjoyable than actually watching the show!

  2. julia says:

    WOW! It’s like you took the words right out of my mouth.

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