LAST EDITED ON 01-25-03 AT 07:55 PM (EST)

LAST EDITED ON 01-25-03 AT 07:53 PM (EST)

The Official Bachelorette Episode 3 Summary

"Eight Is Enough, Already"
or
"I wasn't aware there would be any math"

Preface

Okay, I admit it. I didn't watch the first Bachelor. I had no idea who this Trista chick was. She is, in fact, the runner-up loserette from that show. She's from Missouri –- like Aaron The Bachelor, because the casting director's uncle cameraman lives there –- and is a "dancer" for the Miami Bitches in Heat. But she's not just a blonde bimbo (actually, we're not even sure that cuffs and collar match, ifyouknowwhatImean). She has a Master's degree, and, in her spare time, is employed as a pediatric physical therapist, because it makes her feel good about herself when she's around people who are physically unable to slap her senseless.

Last time, on The Bachelorette:

Vegas; a day at a spa; a Chargers game. Drunken kisses and entirely too much crying. Fifteen pitiful specimens of supposed manhood screw up their sphincters and wait for Trista to give them roses. These are not the long-stemmed roses that The Bachelor gave out; these are boutonnieres that she must pin onto their lapels. This would be much more interesting if the guys were shirtless and had to keep from flinching. She sends 7 home, leaving, um…8. These lucky gents are:

Charlie: a financial analyst/account executive, who likes working out, studying the markets, mainlining hair gel…*yawn* As an aside, the ABC website gives short bios of the bachelors, and includes in each one the guys' heights and weights, because it's okay to objectify men based on their physical characteristics.

Bob: a mortgage banker. I wouldn't want to date him, but I might date the skinny guy inside him waiting to get out. He lists "dating" as a hobby, then goes on to say, "Since my marriage broke up…" I see no correlation there whatsoever.

Greg: the artist formerly known as Greg T ("T, a drink with jam and arsenic"). He's an importer, which is code for "smuggling balloons of coke up my ass." Perhaps he should consider exporting portions of his nose to ease the trade deficit.

Ryan: the firefighter from Vail. Favorite pickup line: "Want to see the little fireman?" Then he shows them the station's dalmation. He writes *shudder* poetry.

Mike: a salesman from the top of his pointy head to the bottom of his hooves…er, toes. Hobbies: Boating and politics. Well, it worked SO well for Gary Hart. He describes himself as relentless and caring, which earns him the bunny-boiling stalker freak award for this show.

Rob: a tech specialist and professional heir to a shrimp fortune. He's hoping to grow a goatee when he enters puberty. Dude, Kurt Cobain called, he wants his hair back.

Jamie: sales director/athletic trainer/pro basketball player. Of course, he was a pro basketball player for 3 months in Sweden, and if that were really panning out for him, would he be doing the other two? He's very in touch with his feminine side, meaning he masturbates a lot and wears women's panties.

Russ: IT consultant/writer. See above for identity crisis. He describes himself as dependable AND fun. Oh boy. He's the one who, upon stepping out of the limo and first meeting Trista, hands her a Tiffany's box, in hopes that he can play "I'll show you my box if you show me yours."

Tonight: 8 guys – One for every day of the week

Trista's friends –- all three of them –- move into the guy's house to help her decide…wait, did I NOT just do this a few months ago?! Jesus, is no one left on this planet who can make their own decisions any more? Is there any guy at the Dude Ranch who's NOT thinking "schweet, foursome"? Anyway, so Trista has zero confidence in her own impressions. With the help of her friends, she'll multiply that certainty factor by three, although she thinks that 3 x 0 is 30.

So it's Missy, Sara, and…Shannon, who was apparently also one of the 'ho's that the first Bachelor ditched to keep Trista around. But they're SO beyond that now, especially since they both found out Alex is gay. They greet each other with embraces and squeals of joy and the next 3 minutes of conversation are in a range only dogs can hear.

Chris, the Host not only for the show, but for a parasite that makes him pedantic and insipid, gathers the masses into the Hall O' Cheez and explains that these women will determine who gets one-on-one dates and who gets shafted with no cuddling afterwards. Russ panics because he does not have 3 extra Tiffany's boxes and quickly braids his own nose hair into rings for all of them.

Mike (confessional): I recognized Shannon from the first Bachelor. I'm hoping to get to know her better.

Dude, focus! Overcaffeinated fruit flies' attention spans are longer than yours. Among other things.

So The Three ensconce themselves at a table, and begin the questions.

Question 1: When it comes to sex, would you consider yourself a giver, a taker, a pleaser, or a teaser? (or a smoker, or a midnight toker)

Mike: I am SUCH a giver.
Rob: Total give-a-holic, dude.
Greg: Pleaser. No, really.
Ryan: Can I phone a friend?

Now, honestly, who's going to say they're a taker? No, seriously, because that's the one I want. He can take me in the car, in the house, outside…oops. Overcaffeination strikes again.

Question 2: What do you value most in a relationship?
(note to bachelors: the password is…Trista)

Jamie: The close proximity of mental institutions, so that when I drive her to a nervous breakdown and she needs to be committed, it's like, right there.

Question 3: If we were to give you a one-on-one date with Trista, what might you do for her to make it romantic?

Charlie: I want to dominate any and all conversation and force her to relive some of the worst breakup moments of her life, because, dude, crying is totally an opening for some lovin'.
Ryan: Candlelight. Scenery of some kind. (falters, checks crib notes quickly) Blood sacrifice to Satan. Um, I mean, good food in a nice restaurant. Sorry, my handwriting sucks.
Greg: I want to make sure she doesn't chunk up, so I'm going to keep her nauseated with my singing.
Bob: I am….the Lord of the Dance. *poses*

Question 4: What size shoe do you wear?
(because she's looking for her sole mate…sorry)

Jamie: Do you know who Paul Bunyan was? His shoes were too small for me.
Ryan: What did Jamie say? One size bigger than his.
Mike: It's not the size, it's what you do with the toes. This little piggy went to market…
Trista: Mike, are you saying I'm fat?
Bob: 12. And a half. Well, I know Jamie's a 12, so….

Dude. Do you have nothing better to do with your time than prowl around at night, memorizing the size of other guys'…shoes? Apparently, dating is not his only "hobby."

The Three: Fables of the Deconstruction

Missy: These guys are, like, soooo great, like, I just talk to them, and I'm like, how do you not have a girlfriend?

A demitasse would fit her head like a sombrero. We can see why Trista places so much trust in her judgment.

Shannon: We really want to help Trista find her one soul mate, because that leaves…um, carry the one…7 guys and one of them is gonna pick me. I'll show that little beeyotch who The Bachelorette REALLY is…oops, outloud voice.

They like Jamie and can't understand why Trista doesn't click with him. Maybe it's that whole "personality void" thing. Just a guess. She apparently would NOT shut up about Russ, so they gave him a little extra face-time...during which they discover that Russ is about as appealing as licking dog food off of broken glass.

Missy likes Ryan, who Trista has described as "many-layered" because she has mistaken quiet and bland for deep and meaningful, although this seems to be a chronic issue for her.

Shannon likes Charlie, because he's hot, and some other stuff that doesn't matter nearly as much as his hotness. And, as we all know, looks are by far the most important foundation upon which one can build a long-term relationship. Other than mutual disdain for media whores on reality TV shows, of course.

Sara, it seems, has no opinions. Thank God we brought her along.

They conclude that "fully half" of these guys are not right for Trista. Let's see, Jamie, Ryan, and Charlie...yes, that's half, all right.

Tape 1

Missy brings in a videotape to show the guys (who are visibly saddened that it is not porn) and gives the obligatory speech about "it was a tough decision, we wish you all could have gotten one-on-one dates..." which we know is a total lie, so why waste your breath? Oh, right, the hobby thing. Gotcha.

Charlie: If I can just get some alone time with her, I'm sure I can shine.

Well, sure, but so can a trained orang-utan if you give him the polish and a brush. What IS it with these people and shoes?

The first video –- and the first date –- go to Russ, which makes sense, since they just finished talking about how completely wrong he is for Trista. Russ is stoked and displays his permanent self-satisfied smirk, which would totally turn me on if he had anything to back it up. Jamie wonders if he should have told The Three about his Porsche, which is not in any way a reflection of his shoe size, and whines that they cannot possibly get to know him well enough in a two-minute conversation. BZZZT, thank you for playing.

Trista on Tape: Russell, I want us to do something that neither of us has done before. In one hour, a Tibetan monk will arrive to ritualistically shave your…oops, sorry, I mean we'll take a blimp ride, because blimps and my head are both filled with things that are lighter than air.

Trista, confessional:It's important to me to see if he obeys me in all things, so I'm going to tell him to bark like a sea lion, and see if he does that, too.

The Date: Please, let it be the Hindenburg

So they're in the limo, and Russ starts talking about his mother, which is always a smart move that doesn't scream "mama's boy, run away." But she can't run, being in a moving limo and all, so she settles for moving as far away from him as the physical space in the car will allow. "I've never kissed anybody on a blimp before," he says. Don’t be too sure you'll break that record today, studmuffin.

They walk across the tarmac to the airship, and Russ confides that this scares him a little bit. But then, tofu scares him a little bit. During the ride, Trista is sitting on his lap, they're watching the sunset while holding hands and shouting sweet nothings to each other over their oh-so-romantic headsets. We pan out, and glimpse the blimp, scrolling a message on its side: "Russ...+...Trista..." It cuts away before we see the words "null set."

Ranch Interlude

There's a group dinner with the guys and The Three that could only be made less festive if they were being served their own intestines.

One of The Three (does it matter which one?) is fretting about their God-given task of finding the perfect mate for Trista from this gaggle of guys that she finds "genuine" and "sweet." But then, she also believes a guy when he tells her he'll call her the next day, and no, it didn't really bother him that her gag reflex was so strong that she emptied the contents of her stomach onto his lap.

The guys discuss Russ' method of getting time with Trista, which they call "chiseling" and which I call "smothering the hell out of her." His actions are the equivalent to buying an ice cream sandwich and immediately licking the ice cream all around the edges so no one else asks to share. I doubt Trista would be averse to the comparison of her to a cheap object that gets licked. Charlie complains that he can't read Russ, but then, Charlie can't read Dr. Seuss, either.

Date 1

A candle-filled gazebo for dinner, during which Trista talks to Russ again about how much she hates pushy guys – like Russ – who come on too strong – like Russ – and who are too aggressive – like Russ – and who are named Russ.

Trista: If I just feel pressure in any way, I just kind of like back away.

And she wonders why she's never had an orgasm.

Russ: That totally sucked, because I'm all about being pushy and aggressive, and I couldn't be myself.

Well, he COULD have, but then he'd have to tackle the whole "invertebrate" issue.

He then completely subjugates himself to her and she berates him for being spineless. Then they kiss. Ahhh, amoebas in love. On the limo ride home, she lays down on the seat with her head in his lap, eyes closed, as if it's the most natural thing in the world for her, which, of course, it is.

The Next Day

The guys try to impress The Three by doing dishes and mopping the floor, although none of them will consent to wear the French maid's costume. Missy is beside herself that all these guys are trying to butter her up.

Then we have a shot of...a dog. This is about the fifth time we've gotten a good look at this particular dog. What significance this dog has, or what purpose he/she serves, we dare not begin to imagine. Cut to Shannon exclaiming to Ryan, "I'm so happy that there's a dog in the house!" I think her addition is fuzzy again.

Ryan then tells her, as any suave guy would in this situation, that petting the wet dog will make their hands smell bad. At this point, they simultaneously each smell their own hands. Pavlov would be proud.

Ryan:If, like, there's a guy, and there's, like, a girl, too, they're going to, like, flirt and stuff.

Cut to Jamie, ironing shirtless, impressing The Three with his "I had a dream" speech. "I wanted to play basketball, and I did that. I wanted to write a book, which I'm doing now, even though it will never get published, and I wanted to work with inner city kids, because I thought that sounded really sensitive and stuff, and it would get me laid."

Cut to Bob, telling The Three how nice it was to have them there, because everything was cleaner and more organized. "We needed a woman's touch bad," he asserts, like they can't find West Grace Street and shell out $20 for that like everyone else.

Tape 2

This one goes to Charlie, who is so excited that some of his hair almost moves. He sniffs the tape before putting it in the VCR. Everyone laughs to cover their profound discomfort at witnessing his little ritual.

Sara: We picked Charlie, who just is this incredible package...

Sara needs to get out more. She also is confusing "is" with "has."

In Trista's message, she is wearing a bikini and tells Charlie to prepare to get drenched, which has him nearly blinded with lustful scenarios until he realizes she's talking about a water park.

Date 2: I'm rooting for the riptide

Trista: I want it to be natural, I want to make sure we can be together alone.

A quick criminal records check would help with that. Along with not having a camera crew follow your every move.

They tube. They swim. They drink champagne. *Yawn* They get back in the limo and we hear Charlie talk about a girl who Done Him Wrong, because we all know talking about old girlfriends and how horrible they were is a must for a first date. Luckily for him, she's been cheated on, too, so she looks at their mutual misfortune as a close bonding opportunity, rather than two losers kvetching at each other.

They go to Sak's. They meet some guy named Jose, who is apparently a famous hairstylist I have never heard of because I have more important things in my life to remember than who styles the locks of some movie actress who looks like every other movie actress. So, lucky Charlie, he gets the date that all other men dream of: he gets to watch Trista have her hair and makeup done. If there's one thing Trista knows, besides a home remedy for herpes outbreaks, it's that guys like nothing better than watching their gal get a makeover.

Then, as if that weren't exciting enough, some designer chick whose name means nothing to me brings dresses for Trista to try on. Note to Trista: unless you're going to Victoria's Secret, shopping is not on his top 10 list of things to do on dates. Matter of fact, all 10 require one or both of you to be naked.

Ranch Interlude

Tape 3

Trista says this date is for Ryan, and it will suit his quiet nature and inspire more poetry. As if I didn't question her judgment already. "Plus," she says, "I hear a rumor that Shamu might join us for dinner."

Bob: Is she saying I'm fat?

No, Bob, she's just saying she'd rather spend time with Mr. Milquetoast, which is a far worse insult. Ryan so dampens a room's mood that he puts out fires by simply standing near them, reciting poetry that would make Vogons beg for sweet death to overtake them.

The Date, continued

Trista pulls out a set of car keys and tells Charlie that that is HIS surprise for their date: an Astin Martin. I would like her surprise to be him burning rubber as he peels out, leaving her watching from the sidewalk, mouth agape, as he brackets the nearest building in his headlights and, upon impact, explodes in a hellish conflagration, rather than spend 2 more seconds making small talk with her.

But no. I am, again, denied.

They drive to some shi-shi French restaurant where they forget to clear the remnants of dead flowers off the table in their haste to surrender to the German restaurant next door, and drink some more champagne. I think Trista alone has consumed 8 bottles of champagne in this episode. She is definitely well on her way to habits that will be helpful when she has children.

Charlie: I want to know something about you that nobody else knows.
Trista: I have webbed toes and a third nipple. And this one time, at band camp...

Charlie: What are the little things that make you smile in an intimate relationship?
Trista: Well, it's the little things. Like your penis.

Charlie: Wow, I'm really nervous. I mean, I'm excited, but I'm nervous.
Trista: Don't worry, that happens to all guys sometimes. We can just cuddle.

They kiss. Trista tells us she thinks Charlie is The One.

Charlie (confessional): I kind of felt like this was the opportunity to try to really get inside of Trista.

Yes, to boldly go where everyone else who has bought her dinner and lived through her incessant "OMG" exclamations has gone before you. That is, if you can stop being nervous and start imagining that Trista is Heather Graham.

He tells her that he doesn't want to get involved with her sexually if she's going to be "involved" with someone else. Well, unless that Heather Graham thing worked out and he got to watch.

Trista (confessional): He's looking for a way to control me in a situation where I have the control. But if that's what he wants, that's what I'm going to do.

Sadly, that's nearly verbatim. She was SO close to some real insight there, but the 40-watt bulb coming on caused a short circuit.

Charlie hopes he gets a rose, because he wants her to meet his parents. After her delousing, of course.

We may as well call it Wisconsin, we've got enough cheese

Back at the ranch, Charlie relates his date to the huddled masses, leaving out the parts about her laughing at his shoe size and him turning into an oozing pile of sap. Mike is gellous gellous gellous and hopes that Charlie will kiss HIM next.

Trista tells The Three about the date and says that this date was the most special of her life. But then, she's from Missouri, and is used to dating guys like Aaron The Bachelor. Plus, she's a Master's degree-holding physical therapist, so she knows "special" when she sees it.

Date 3: None for my salad, thanks, but can you put some pepper on my date?

Trista explains that this is her chance to flesh out some of those layers she claims to see in Ryan. Don't dive, honey, it's not as deep as you think. I've seen more substance in protoplasm and more spark in a piece of navel lint.

Ryan: I feel like you should know somebody before you get married. But, y'know, that doesn't have to be true if you don’t like me saying it.

Ryan's plan to stun her with his keen grasp of the obvious and senseless babbling is coming along nicely.

They go to Sea World to find creatures that have more personality, are more intelligent, and are better-trained than Ryan is. They suit up and swim with dolphins, which, I have to admit, sounds like a helluva lot of fun. I mean, if I didn't have to be there with Trista or Ryan and the pool didn't smell like 3-day-old fish. But then, Ryan should be used to Trista's scent by now. Trista talks about kissing the dolphins to try to make Ryan jealous. Ryan misses this entire exchange and claims that whatever Trista wants to do, he wants to do, too. Look, he can touch the back of his head to the back of his knees.

The dolphins do tricks. Ryan tries to outdo the dolphins by performing the same tricks, but with considerably less grace and skill.

Ryan: I guess I was a little jealous when Trista kissed the dolphin, but I don't know if there's anything I can do to a 600-pound animal who can swim a lot faster than I can.

He did, in fact, say exactly that without any trace of irony in his statement. He is painfully sincere. He is being chiseled by a dolphin. He returns fire the only way he can think of: coming up with rhymes for "tuna net."

Ranch Interlude

Another tape. The remaining Poor Bastards, Bob, Jamie, Mike, Greg, and Rob, will be going fast, then slowing down, then going to the beach. *Yawn*

The Date, continued

They dine by the killer whale pool. Ryan raises his glass in a toast: "To dinner with Shamu." Trista: "No, it's next week I meet your mom."

Trista: Do you have any concerns about me?
Ryan: I have no concerns about anything at any time unless you tell me I should.

He struggles to make even simple conversation, which is interrupted by Shamu and a friend popping over the wall to say hi. I am praying that Shamu starts whispering in his ear like Cyrano de Bergerac. And then...he pulls out another fvcking poem entitled, "Something about her." Yes, there is, but nothing antibiotics couldn’t cure. He reads this string of clichés out loud. She cries because she's touched. I cry because that was 45 seconds of my life I'll never get back.

Trista says she likes the way her heart flutters when she's with him. Which is, of course, a perfectly sound principal on which to base a marriage. She concludes that "there's something brewing" between them. No, I think you were looking for the word "festering."

He buys her a stuffed Shamu. They kiss. He recites a poem he wrote about buying her a stuffed Shamu.

Man-Ho House

Ryan is just as inept at conversation with the other guys as he is with Trista. Charlie is certain that his mojo is superior to Ryan's mojo, and he is unconcerned. Ryan skulks off to write a poem about an ice cube in his drink that looks like Trista's nose. Charlie hits the jacuzzi and sulks that Trista might like Ryan better, but if she does, that's fine, because she's a fickle little beeyotch. But if she likes Charlie, she's a devoted, lovely girl. Funny, I didn't see any grapes next to the hot tub.

Date 4: The bearded clambake

Another day, another date, another pointless shot of the dog barking. The 5 losers and Trista I'm sorry, that makes 6 losers) head to the racetrack in yet another limo. Mike whines that he wasn't granted a solo date with Trista, and that she can't possibly get to know him and make a decision about him in just 2 minutes. Which is incorrect on SO many levels.

They hop into go-karts and race around the track. Jamie is under the impression that by winning, he proves his case about the shoe thing. Bob thinks the roses are still up for grabs and he still has a shot at receiving one. He also thinks that he looks like Pierce Brosnan. But fatter.

Mike wins, which we gather from what we thought was some rather shocking footage but which turns out to be him popping the cork on a bottle nestled in his groin, which then spurts champagne. Trista –- by instinct -- twitches away to avoid being sprayed on.

They then head to a beach for a clambake and séance to contact Elvis. Bob attmpts to convince Trista that he's a crying on the inside kind of clown. Greg promises to move next door to her and take out her trash if she'll flash him. Jamie asks Trista if he can kiss her. She laughs at him, not with him. Bye, Jamie.

Later

Trista, relaxing at the Kotex Bachelorette Pad, is unable to make up her mind what she wants. She thinks Jamie is insecure. She thinks Bob doesn't want to leave Michigan, which begs the question of why he would come on this show at all when he could have his choice of Yoopies back home. Trista wants to keep Greg's eyeballs in a jar and send the rest of him home. Sara suggests focusing in on their character, which is akin to asking the legally blind to read the last line of an eye chart from 500 feet away. Shannon tells us she doesn't know how Trista can decide who to give roses to. We don't know how Trista can decide between paper and plastic.

The Last Gasp

Trista laments that it's just as hard being the dumper as it is to be the dumpee, which is, as anyone who has been dumped will tell you, complete and utter bullshit. The guys all attempt to get some "alone time" with her, to give her a final pitch to get a rose.

Russ tells Trista that he has everything else he wants in life to be happy except a trophy wife. Oh, and a real job and a house and a car aside from the pea-green Chevy Nova his uncle left him. And then maybe a mistress on the side, but that's planning a little far ahead.

Bob tells her not to make a decision based on geography. Trista wonders why he feels volcanic rock has anything to do with moving to California.

Ryan intentionally did not write a poem, which is funny because 1) it implies that he has intention to do anything, and 2) that he writes poems accidentally. Which actually would explain a lot. But he wants to make sure she likes him for him, not just his poems.

Charlie wants her to know that the kiss he shared with her he didn't share with any of the other guys, which is always something I look for in a heterosexual.

The Rose Ceremony: A rose by any other name is a pansy

Chris the Host interrupts to invite Trista back to the deliberation room. Trista says she's scared because she could see herself with all of these guys. You folks at home can see that, too, in her upcoming film, Pulling Train On Trista.

She watches video messages from each guy, which only manages to highlight why she should not pick any of them, because none of them can think without moving their lips. She is torn, because all of these guys are of "such high caliber." As far as I'm concerned, a little high caliber action would solve her dilemma rather handily.

Chris heads down to where the guys are, bringing the Golden Chamber Pot of Shame, containing 4 roses, with him. He explains dutifully that 4 of them will be rejected on national television and will be the laughingstock of their hometowns and will never get laid again and will die broken, penniless, and friendless in a puddle of their own vomit (okay, he didn't specify that it had to be their own). The other four can refuse roses if they want to. Ryan quietly decides he will do exactly what Trista tells him to and then write a poem about it.

Trista thanks them all for being wonderful and perfect and unique, just like everyone else, and she's sorry she has to send any of them home before getting imprints of their Platinum cards. She takes a deep breath and offers a flower to Algernon – er, Charlie, who accepts. The second rose goes to Russ, who accepts.

The third rose goes to Ryan, who accepts. "It's not just your poetry," she whispers. "Thank God," he sighs. I have no idea what else he has. Maybe she's been snooping in his shoes, too.

The last rose goes to Greg, and he, too, accepts. Trista takes Bob aside and lets him know that if there were a fifth rose, she'd have given it to him. I'm sure that makes him feel much better. She prattles on again about how hard it is to send people home with broken hearts, but we don't believe her any more now than we did 15 minutes ago. Besides, after 90 minutes of this crap, her voice just sounds like Charlie Brown's teacher.

Rob – remember him? – claims that although he isn't a sore loser, the guys in the final four wouldn't have made HIS final 15. I think we've found our new Bachelorette!

Next time, on The Bachelorette:

"Mom, Dad, this is Trista. I followed her home, can she keep me?"

I will now go rinse this aftertaste out of my mouth with some beer, not unlike a typical Saturday night for Trista.

I'll give up my bad habits as soon as equally satisfying good habits become available.
edited to fix my stoopid tags