Before we start this week’s recap, we need to make an important clarification. There seems to be some confusion on social media. ELI AND I ARE NOT MARRIED. To each other. I am married to someone else. Happily. And we have two kids. And a dog. But Eli isn’t married. Sad!
Ok, @realdonaldtrump. Eli here, writing in italics, as usual. The other day I got this text from Meg with a screenshot from some person who shared TV & Jelly and this person was like “Meg Walter has started writing these recaps with her husband” and Meg was all like “THIS NEEDS TO BE CORRECTED NOW I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO THINK I WOULD EVER MARRY YOU” and she texted it in her scary dragon voice, which is how I knew she was just being normal, and I don’t think she anticipated how offended I was going to be. I mean, I have a lot to offer. In the fifth grade I was voted class “neat freak.” I also recently learned to knit poorly. AND I currently possess upwards of 50,000 Delta miles that [brace yourself] never freaking expire. So when Meg was like “JUST BEING SEEN WITH YOU MAKES MY LIFE WORSE” I was a little surprised. For the record, Meg, I would be honored to be mistakenly accused of being married to you and your snaggle tooth.
Anyway, do you know who else isn’t married? Arie.
Not for a lack of posing on motorcycles, though.
It’s probably because he invites women on dates using their first names and the first letter of their last names, as though they are in first grade.
Star is my new favorite alphabet letter.
Becca K. doesn’t seem to mind.
Neither does her bra strap.
Arie rides in
looking an awful lot like Wallace of Wallace and Gromit.
If they added a side car for Chris Harrison I would absolutely start watching this show.
Becca hops on the back of the bike, sadly not in the nonexistent side car, and together they ride to some house, whose owner is nowhere to be found.
Waiting for them inside is Rachel Zoe, designer to the stars, and much too good for this show.
Her zip up just gave me so many seizures that I single-handedly crashed Obamacare.
No way. I would sell a vital organ for that jacket.
Arie tells Becca that she gets to choose a new outfit for their date, and I wonder if Becca is low key offended, cause it feels like a What Not To Wear intervention. Or maybe Becca doesn’t suffer from crippling hyper-self-awareness and she’s not overthinking this like some of us might.
The entire concept of this whole mess is like something out of the 1950s so it doesn’t surprise me that there would be a scene where a man tells a woman half his age that she is allowed to get a new outfit and doll herself up for him. I hope this episode ends with Becca apologizing for having shoes.
Arie then sits on the couch and offers feedback on every dress Becca tries on, and it does not feel like your typical heterosexual date. Arie also surprises her with Louboutins, which is amazing, but… if you’re giving me shoes worth $1,000, I think I want to pick the style, no?
So you’re telling me that if I glue track & field spikes all over some tacky high heels, I can sell them to a vapid woman for $1,000?
I hate my real job.
Those “tacky high heels” are worth more than my mortgage and tbh, I’d probably have a heart attack if I were gifted a pair, even the spike variety. All I’m saying is spikes are a very specific style for a very specific girl, and Arie and Becca literally JUST MET and I don’t think he knows if she’s a spike girl or not and I think she might be happier with a classic black pump, but maybe that’s just me.
You’re going to be my first customer.
Also, what makes someone a “spike girl?” I mean, besides working at Hot Topic in 1998.
If the fashion blogs I frequent are any indication, having an insane amount of money to spend on a pair of shoes you’ll wear once a year makes you a “spike girl.”
Arie and Becca are hanging out in the backyard of the house whose owners I think might be tied up in the basement, when a Neal Lane representative appears out of nowhere.
Please let that be a bomb in there.
He opens his briefcase to reveal some bling.
It just occurred to me how weird it is that we put holes in our bodies so we can hang rocks in them. I’m seriously so embarrassed about my belly ring now.
Afterward she describes Arie as having pillow lips, so good luck getting that image out of your head. I guess you could picture Eli’s belly ring.
Over a dinner of cat food and tofu,
Arie tells Becca that she reminds him of himself when he was on Emily’s season and pretty much offers to be her mentor. He might as well say, “Welcome to the friend zone, pal!”
Hold up. Arie has been on this piece of crap show before? HOW MUCH CAT FOOD DO THEY HAVE TO FEED HIM BEFORE HE MOVES ON WITH HIS MIDDLE-AGED-MAN LIFE.
YES. PAY ATTENTION. He was the runner up on Emily’s season and a fan favorite and the producers blew it by not making him The Bachelor the next season and now they’re trying to make it up to the fans but Arie’s old so we don’t like him anymore.
THIS SHOW HAS FANS?!
Becca, in a bold attempt to ignore their complete lack of chemistry, pulls out all the stops and tells Arie that her dad died. There is no more effective way to ensure a rose than mentioning a dead parent.
I tried this tactic once when I was trying to convince my parents to take me to Disneyland.
I don’t make the rules. I just mock them.
Except sometime I feel like you make up the rules, but that’s different I guess.
Back at the Bach Mansh, Krystal gets the next date card.
Did he notice that zit before he selected?
Give her a break, it’s chill time between the girls and a bunch of cameras.
“Krystal, Home is where the heart is,” the card reads.
“I don’t want to gloat in front of the other girls,” Krystal says while smiling and holding the date card to her chest in a room full of other girls.
The next morning Krystal meets Arie waiting outside an airplane, and greets him with, “Hiiiiiii” in the exact voice you would expect.
That’s really awesome news for me because I was imagining the Chewbaca voice.
No, it’s more, sexy chipmunk.
They board the plane to Scottsdale, Arie’s home town, and take in the breathtaking Arizona scenery:
It looks like my grandpa’s upper thighs. Don’t ask.
while holding hands.
Ok, how the hell many hands are in the above photo? Every time I count I get 17. It looks like Penrose Stairs up in there.
They land and immediately drive to Arie’s old high school, because Arie knows that every girl’s dream is to be told about their date’s glory days twenty years ago.
Why do you think I mentioned being named class Neat Freak at the top?
“I was in the principal’s office a lot,” Arie boasts, as though that’s a reason for pride. Then he points out where the “art nerds” and “band guys” hung out, so he’s clearly matured quite a bit in the last two decades.
After the school tour, Arie drives her to his very poorly decorated home and pulls out the photo album.
Home decor, circa 1996. I appreciate that they haven’t updated their home since Arie reached retirement age.
Now, there are certainly some treasures in the scrapbook,
but that’s no excuse for the narcissism. I’m willing to bet that at this point Arie does not know Krystal’s last name, and she’s had to spend an entire day indulging Arie’s walk down Arie lane. He even makes her watch home videos. I don’t like Krystal at all but I still feel bad that she has to suffer through this date.
Stop drinking the Kool-Aid Meg!
Then, without so much as a “How would you feel about meeting my parents?” Arie forces Krystal to meet his parents.
I wish he would force me to meet his parents cause I got a few questions for them. Namely, what’s it like seeing your son date your grandchildren’s peers?
Krystal meeting Arie’s mom looks a lot like a time machine situation wherein Krystal meets her future self or Arie’s mom meets her past self.
The Luyendyk home decor looks like a collaboration between Liberace and the Saved By The Bell gang.
I wonder if that dog ate all their homework last night.
Together the family and a stranger talk about absolutely nothing of consequence for thirty seconds, then Arie and the stranger head on their way.
Later, over dinner, Krystal tells Arie about her sad childhood,
To which he responds, “It doesn’t reflect negatively on you.”
Which is a strange response to “and then I murdered my entire family and ate their bodies.”
He’s bored after having to listen to someone else talk about themselves for fifteen seconds, so he kisses her to shut her up.
Wait. DOES THAT WORK!
Time to start kissing my grandma.
The next date card arrives,
Let’s hit love head on, it reads.
15 girls are invited on the date. A demolition derby date.
Arie explains the rules of demo derby to his 15 dates
all of whom are wearing exclusively LuLu Lemon, so it’s not a huge surprise that before the derby even starts a random blond is crying.
As a child she had a traumatic bumper car experience. Nothing happened, mind you. She just didn’t like the bumper cars.
So she’s crying.
“And then, someone crashed into me. For no reason!” When you are the kind of person who can take several months of your life to go wear spandex on tv and make out with a man your father went to high school with, you haven’t had a very hard life. So calling a super typical bumper car experience “traumatic” actually makes a lot of sense here.
The derby begins,
and it’s surprisingly great.
I mean, as an avid demo derby fan, I consider this a complete mockery of the sport. Not a single car bursts into flames.
But in the entire history of me watching this show, it’s the first group date I’ve enjoyed viewing.
Please let the next line be “and there were no survivors.”
Later, Arie and his 15 dates minus one who HAS A CONCUSSION, gather for drinks.
Again, Chelsea immediately pulls him aside.
She reveals that she has a three year old son named Sammy. I’ll be honest, learning she has a three year old makes me feel more fondness toward Chelsea. I also have a 3 year old and I am also a crazy person because of it. Being a small person’s snack beyotch and bum-wiper takes its toll on one’s psychological well-being.
I have been secretly teaching Meg’s children to refer to her as “snack beyotch” instead of “mom” for at least 2 years.
The other women are in the middle of expressing frustration with Chelsea and her aggressive behavior, when Chelsea walks in.
She explains, in so many words, that she’s a mom so she deserves special treatment. Oh that that were true.
Save it for the Mother’s Day episode, snack beyotch.
Meanwhile, Arie makes out with everything in sight,
including Bekah, who my sources have informed me is 22, not 16. But that doesn’t make me feel better about the relationship between these two, and honestly, I think it’s because I just like her so much more than I like him.
Tinkerbell has no age, Megan.
But Bekah has all the trappings of a Bachelorette. Unique style and a great personality, and I think she might be playing the long game here, and if she plays her cards just right, we’ll be seeing a lot of her this spring.
Plus she’ll be a great mom because she’ll be the exact same age as her kids!
Meanwhile, Bibiana falls victim to our first meltdown of the season, when after a long time waiting she does not get a chance to make small talk with the Doofiest man alive.
Interestingly the word “Bibiana” is the exact sound the average person makes when having a meltdown.
I don’t know why they put so much stress into all of this considering that they are all going to die from liver failure by the end of the year.
Sienne and Becca at least have the decency to stay out of the other girls’ way while those girls try desperately to get the attention of a 36-year old failed race car driver.
But he never stopped racing for his dreams, Megan.
Please stop calling me Megan, Elijah.
Krystal does not have the same decency. She interrupts two different conversations
the second between Arie and Bibiana.
Bibiana has HAD ENOUGH.
of not having a neck?
It’s a weird angle. She’s lovely.
Especially when Krystal has the nerve to walk into the common room, sit right next to Bibiana, and feign concern for Bibiana’s time with Arie, all while using her sexy kitten voice.
I never can resist a soft “meow.”
Bibiana snaps, obviously, calls Krystal out on her insincerity, and tells her to step off. It’s great.
Then it’s time for the rose ceremony.
Two girls whose names I never knew are sent home, as is Jenny, who reacts bizarrely.
She walks right past Arie without the customary “thanks” or “good luck,” so Arie follows her and apologizes.
“I definitely don’t think this thing is for me. I’m not sad about you I’m sad about my friends,” Jenny lies.
Huh? What happened to her friends?
They get to stay because they got roses. She’s talking about the friends she’s had for 39 hours. On the show.
Turns out Jenny’s never been broken up with before. Turns out she’s not very good at being broken up with.
“He chose a taxidermist over me,” Jenny laments.
Oh boo hoo. Who HASN’T been passed up for a taxidermist?
I know I have.
I’ll be gone next week, so I’m reluctantly handing the reigns to Eli for a solo recap. Expect lots of inappropriate jokes about his grandmother, and no factual information about The Bachelor.
What’s “The Bachelor?”
Until then, if you want to spend even more time with us, check out our Strangerville podcast episode.