I was raised on television. My parents never restricted my viewing time and I watched whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. My TV addiction continued as an adult. Reality shows were my guilty pleasure. I loved watching weekend marathons of MTV's Real World, Road Rules and Making The Band. But something happened a few years back when I got rid of my clunky big screen. I found other things to do with my time, other simple pleasures--reading, writing, cooking, walking my dogs, spending time with friends. When I finally purchased a TV again, I didn't want to get hooked, so I decided not to get cable or satellite. I would only watch the movies that I had missed in the theater and past seasons of my favorite shows on DVD--Lost, Weeds, Entourage, Dexter. Oh, and occasionally an episode or two of Dancing With The Stars with my friend Nicole. But that was it. Really. I had no idea what shows aired when.
Things started to change a year ago after I had major surgery for ovarian cancer. I was laid up for quite a while. During my recovery my girlfriends Nicole and Austine would come over, they'd help me take care of things around the house, we'd have food delivered and then we would hang out, eat and watch television. Boy, was I thankful for my TV! Once I started chemotherapy, our viewing nights continued and evolved into a Monday night tradition that we now call Girls' Night.
Even though chemo is a distant memory and I have fully recovered, Girls' Night is still my favorite time of the week. I cook dinner and my friends and I settle in and chit chat about whatever comes to mind. We talk about men, we talk about work, we talk about each other. As soon as the clock strikes 7, we stop talking and get completely caught up in our current guilty pleasure--The Bachelor. OK, so it's not really reality, and the premise of the show is ridiculous. But my friends and I can't get enough of it.
Monday night was the season finale, and hot 38 year old bachelor Brad Womack was forced to choose from two beautiful women. I guessed he would propose to Emily, the sweet 24 year old blond single mom who lost her fiance in a plane wreck before she knew she was pregnant with his daughter. From around episode three, every time Brad was around this woman, he could barely speak. It was clear to me that he was smitten with her. I was so sure she would win, I bet a coworker a sandwich.
The other finalist was Chantal, a 28 year old divorcee, who was fun and sassy. She slapped him in the face during the season premier (coached by the producers, I'm sure). She was the opposite of Emily in every way. Brad and Chantal's dates were amazing--everything from zip-lining through the jungles of Costa Rica to swimming with sharks in South Africa. It would have been difficult for them NOT to have a good time together, given the activities they shared.
In the end, he did indeed propose to Emily, and my friends and I were pleased. That was until we watched 'After The Final Rose'--the show that featured Bachelor Brad and his bride-to-be reunited in public for the first time since the taping of the final episode. Suddenly the woman who seemed so confident, poised and unshaken by any of her former competition was insecure and whiny. Apparently she had not considered the possibility that her fiance had shown other women his affection when he wasn't stuttering and stammering his way through picnics and walks on the beach with her. Even though she signed up to be on a game show for a chance to win a husband, somehow the fact that the other women were there for the same reason slipped her mind. And I guess as she watched the show every Monday night, and what really went down, her feelings were hurt. So much so that she called off the engagement more than once.
I have to say, I felt a little sorry for Brad as he continued to ogle this chick and rub her finger sans engagement ring while she went on about how he hadn't gotten anything right. She was completely hung up on how if she was really 'the one' from the moment they met he would not have given anyone else the time of day. He was completely hung up on her. He couldn't change what had happened, and she was not going to let it go. She eventually announced that they were still engaged, but my friends and I weren't buying it. Poor Brad. The bottom line was that it was a competition, and he treated it as such, taking advantage of the time he shared with all of the women. He did his best to get to know them and decide who he thought was right for him. He did what he thought he was supposed to do. He selected a woman with whom he was most compatible and shared many common interests. A woman he connected with intellectually and spiritually. A woman that shared his priorities, values and goals. Oh wait, that's not how it works on The Bachelor. All that couldn't possibly be squeezed into 10 episodes. The truth is, Brad Womack did what any man who was nearly 40 and finally ready to settle down might do. He chose a Southern Belle who was 14 years his junior and looked like a real-life Barbie.
Good luck, Brad. We'll miss you on Monday nights.
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