I caught part of the the final episode and all of the post-final-episode of The Bachelor last night. No, I have never seen an episode of The Bachelor before, but I examined the situation of the participants very closely for an hour and fifteen minutes minus commercials, so I feel qualified to pronounce judgment on everyone involved and to divine their futures.
To Melissa -- You seem very nice and sensible and I really love the fact that when you showed up on TV to get dumped by Mr. Asshole you did it in a skintight strapless black-pleather number. I have never seen a better "fuck you, if you don't want this you don't deserve it" dress in my life. I am sorry that you seem to be under the misapprehension that Mr. Asshole has something more than a nanogram of Q-tip fluff floating around inside his head, something that would make him worth yours or anyone's time. Because he doesn't. Anyway, I am also sorry that your engagement got broken off on national television, but in the long run I am sure you will be happier this way than if you'd married the creep, so cheer up, sleepy Jean. Tell you what, go out and get a book deal with a big advance. It'll be remaindered in record time, but you should wear that dress on the cover. I'll smile.
To Molly -- Do I even have your name right? You were not very memorable. Anyway, you did the right thing when you gaped at Mr. Asshole for about five minutes after he asked you to come back to him, but then you screwed it up by telling him you were happy to hear him say that. See above re: nanogram of Q-tip brain. Here is how this is going to go with Mr. Asshole, Molly: if you decide to turn him down, he will pine over you for months and months on end and leave you whiny voice messages and probably show up at your doorstep at some point in a limo that ABC paid for and with a bunch of roses that ABC also paid for, begging you for another chance. The correct response to this involves the raising of one eyebrow and one specifically chosen finger. Because if you take him back, here is what is going to happen: he is going to be madly in love with you for precisely two weeks, and then he is going to start obsessing over Melissa again. And then some anonymous source who may or may not be him is going to tell the tabloids about how he is obsessing over Melissa, and then he is going to show up on her doorstep with the limo and flowers that ABC have provided, and if she is dumb enough to take him back he is going to sproing back to you again, unless he starts obsessing over some third girl from the show, in which case heaven help all of you. So seriously, show him the eyebrow and the finger, get an unlisted phone number, and see if ABC will pay for a bouncer to stand at your door in the hopes that Mr. Asshole will show up and there will be a big awesome messy scene that will give them a ratings boost. They might go for it.
To Mr. Asshole -- You are an asshole. This is why I have not bothered to look up your name. Also because you clearly have no idea who you are or what you are doing in life, and if you don't know I see no reason to bother. You are a weebly little twerp whose ears stick out and you epitomize the ideology that I hate most in American society's perception of love and commitment, which is that love consists of having an exciting string of hormones and endorphins all sparking in just the right way for the rest of your life, and if the hormones and endorphins ever get disarranged or falter for a minute that's it, it's time to call the whole thing off. Commitment, engagement, and marriage are not about endorphins, you doof. Every time you blurped out that line about "Melissa, when I told you I would do anything to make you happy for the rest of your life, in the moment I meant it..." I wanted to jam a pencil up your nose. How excellent for her that you meant that in that moment! Do you think you will mean it again in a moment in several weeks? What about at 12:47 last Tuesday? How did you feel then? And Mr. Asshole, what do you do when you're sleeping? This is a very serious question, because if you are sleeping you might not be conscious of how you are feeling, but then how do you know who you should be married to? Maybe you should get divorced every night before you go to sleep just so you can be sure that you're not married to someone you might be feeling the wrong way about. In the moment. And, hey, look, buddy-boy: if you want to skip out on a girl when the sparking chemistry hits a slow patch, that's your prerogative. It's called dating. In that arena you would be called one of those immature playboys who's not sure what he wants and isn't ready to settle down, but man is he a good kisser!, and you would have plenty of company. It's just when you get engaged and then try to do that that you turn into a full-blown Mr. Asshole. Something to keep in mind.
To Ty, Mr. Asshole's Kid -- I suspect your dad keeps telling you you're going to have a new mommy. I am really sorry.
To LJ -- Yes, I just made a long post about The Bachelor. You wanna make something of it?
P.S. to LJ -- Yes, I also know that this is reality television and Mr. Asshole probably signed a contract that said he had to propose to one woman at the end of the show. And I know that anyone who goes on such a show probably deserves what they get. But my understanding is that in the however many seasons this show has been going on, the majority of the final couples have not ultimately gotten married, but they have also managed not to do a followup episode in which the dude was like "OH I was SO RIGHT when I picked Girl X except that I was wrong but now I am SO RIGHT in picking Girl Y and also I cannot find my head!" And I always get very twitchy when people start doing that thing about love being an emotion and you can't help how you feel because if you are FALLING IN LOVE then there is NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT and all prior commitments are null and void. Also? That guy had big ears and was not attractive. Just saying.