The Bachelor and Mr. Right

I have a confession to make. I am a fully recovered Bachelor reality show junkie. I know, it’s the stuff of intellectuals, right? Regardless of how cheesy the program is, which it is, every six months or so when the latest eligible male made his television debut and waltzed across my screen professing his hopes (usually fabricated) of finding undying love among twenty-five strangers, I was right there parked in my front row seat, gawking at the screen.

The Bachelor was to me what sports are to men (and some women). After witnessing the character or lack thereof of the contestants, I chose my favorite and rooted for her to win the prize (if he was one) and pray she had enough self-respect to turn him down if he wasn’t. I would bet on who he had it bad for, who annoyed him, and who he would actually choose.

Other closet Bachelor junkies have confided that they watch it for the romance, but I don’t get that concept. After all, whose lifelong dream is it to be treated like just another cow in a herd of cattle, begging a man they don’t even know to give them his grade ‘A’ stamp of approval on their conveniently exposed backside? That just doesn’t spell romance for me.

All of which brings me to my point. Why would any woman want to be on this program when it is so potentially humiliating and for the most part ineffective in its objective?

It’s obvious that some are there to cash in on their fifteen minutes of fame and every once in awhile there’s a contestant who’s one slice short of a loaf, but the others seem to be looking for validation. They all want to be “The One,” but once denied the sacred rose many of them ask through vision blurring tears, “What’s wrong with me? Why didn’t he want me?”

Dumb question. Do the math. Unless we’re going to merge the Bachelor with Sister Wives and turn it into a polygamous program, twenty-four out of twenty-five women will be denied the coveted final rose. But instead of recognizing this, the rejected souls have decided that they’re defective because one man chosen by a television program’s casting director just doesn’t get that charge up his spine when he holds their hand.

Have some self-respect. Move on to a real man who isn’t speed dating the whole squad. If you’re that desperate to be in a relationship gain some weight and send in an application to Biggest Loser where you’ll have a better shot at finding true love.


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