The Bachelorette isn’t on Netflix. Which is why I hadn’t seen an episode since the first season a decade or more ago. And then a year ago, when Chris Soules became the man, I didn’t love being left out of the post rose office talk. So I borrowed a friend’s Hulu login and joined the party. And now I just can’t help myself.
Each season is gifted/plagued with a handful of seemingly genuine fellas, a few that seem to be misplaced and, of course, the requisite asshat. JoJo may have been the most adorable and authentic bachelorette I’ve ever seen. She had the usual misfits, some adorable ex athletes, and Chad. Look, I’m a total sucker for beards and biceps but even I have no use for a tool of that variety. Thankfully, with a little help from the other fellas, JoJo called him out and sent him home with all his protein. Get him, girl.
Post send off, we gathered in our usual gossip spot to rehash the rose ceremony at work the next day. Understandably, one of my female associates pointed out that Chad had just sealed his single fate. No sane woman would ever accept a date from a man with such a steroid inflated ego. One who was so obviously insecure that he was poised to pounce on an entire household of men in front of America. After he cockily pleaded his case to be the next Bachelor during the After the Rose episode, where would ABC find two dozen ladies that were willing to vie for the hand of this season’s villain? Where you ask? Oh, just every city in America. And basically a slew of beautiful, intelligent, and mostly lovely women would step up to submit they’re video application to be the chosen recipients of Chad’s adoration. Except I’m certain he would be searching to find the female most willing to supply *him* with the adoration. And also deli meat.
Because here is what I know about women: we are stupid. Actually, that couldn’t be further from the truth. But we are ignorantly hopeful and saintly or so sanguine about our nurturing nature that we think we can charm the ugly right out of any man.