Why I Watch “The Bachelorette” with My Wife
Just know that it’s “for the right reasons.”
There are certain TV shows that are simply insulting to my manhood and my intelligence: The Hills, Desperate Housewives, 16 and Pregnant, Sex and the City, and pretty much anything on the Bravo network. But that doesn’t mean I refuse to watch any seemingly feminine shows. There is one huge exception:The Bachelorette, as well as, The Bachelor, starring that dreamy host, Chris Harrison. Yes, I’m referring to America’s favorite polygamist game show.
Oh yes, I know all about the current bachelorette Ashley Hebert. As well as last year’s Ali Fedotowsky. In fact, I openly admit that my current hairstyle is based off of Ali’s fiance, Roberto. Not ashamed to say that; he’s a handsome guy.
But why am I so oddly educated regarding this facet of pop culture? How does knowing that Jeff is the guy with the mask and that Bentley is the guy who is there “for the wrong reasons” not insult my manhood and intelligence?
Because watching The Bachelorette is like watching WWF Wrestling from the Eighties when I was kid. And since I’ve heard many people say that fake wrestling is like the male version of a soap opera, it somehow technically makes The Bachelorette just as masculine as it is feminine. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
As is the case with fake wrestling, in The Bachelorette there are established rules: The contestants must receive a rose by the end of the episode in order to stay on another week. And like in fake wrestling, there are often odd exceptions to those rules:
Ed from Jillian’s season was able to come back after a few episodes because he left on his own to return to his job. And Reid Rosenthal randomly showed up on the final episode to propose, despite the fact that Jillian clearly sent him home a few weeks before.
Another similarity is that the audience is made fully aware of the villains and their drama in a sideshow to what’s happening on the main stage, yet the producers of the show typically do nothing to stop it. You would think that Ashley Hebert deserves to know she should have indeed paid attention to the text message she received from Michelle Money, warning her that Bentley is bad news. And it’s always funny how at some point in the season, one of the contestants will come knocking on the door of the Bachelorette (or Bachelor) who will act surprised to have “unexpected” company. When this happens, there is conveniently already a cameraman in the room.
Instead of helping her by informing her of this information, the producers of the show use this de-constructive plot to entice viewers to tune in the next week. Ah, poor Ashley.
And of course, like in fake wrestling, everything is done in the most over-the-top way possible: helicopter rides per every two episodes, hyperbolic catch phrases like “the most hated man in America,” and trips to exotic and weird places no one ever talks about going to, like Reykjavik, Iceland. (I’d like to go there, though!)
But how did I, a guy who refuses to use trendy one word sentences because they make me think of The Tyra Banks Show, ever get started watching The Bachelorette, and more importantly, why do I take the time and effort to write blog recaps after every episode?
And while I can’t emasculate myself to watch most of the entertainment which caters to women, I can make a cheap stay-at-home date out of the two of us watching The Bachelorette (or The Bachelor) for two hours every Monday night. We can share a bottle of Fat Tire beer and a bowl of popcorn and know that despite whatever hectic or boring events we had to endure for the week leading up to that point, the two of us can spend two hours of ridiculous entertainment together.
Then the next day we can text each other stupid lines we heard on the last episode, like “I can gas you inside if you want,” or “if you can’t take the heat, stay out of the oven.”
I think by now it’s becoming sort of cliche advice for people to say “you should never stop dating your spouse, even after your married and have kids.” But it’s true. And even if we can’t afford to go out, or simply are too exhausted to do so, we always have our Monday night dates. Even if our six month old son is there to chaperone.
Does your husband secretly watch The Bachelorette with you? Or do you and your spouse have an equivalent version of our ritualistic home date night?
My Hair Role Model, Roberto Martinez: