The Bachelorette S16A E02: Double Standards
I thought we’d hit rock bottom during Peter’s season when we had the Lingery Finasco date—aka a date that started with Demon Demi and her brood of caricatures aggressively smashing contestants in the face with pillows while they slept, and ended with the beaten women forced to dress in lingerie and pillow fight with each other in the middle of a country bar.
If that sounds like peak Bachelorverse, that’s because it is. What else would we expect from a show that consistently treats women like marionettes? Women don’t have feelings or rights, you literal and figurative dummies—they’re merely our hollow playthings, jerked around by Producers and forced to square off against rapists and abusers and whatever hell creatures The Garretts are for our amusement.
This week’s episode kept its roiling core of sexual and emotional harassment burning bright—but this time, it was aimed at the men. While the Bachelorverse doesn’t shy away from emotionally abusing its male leads (creating an entire season around Colton’s virginity, forcing Peter to keep a gaslighting, home-wrecking succubus around while forcing out the woman he eventually ended up with, not telling the 36-year-old Arie they had a newly 22-year-old in his cast until they were in a hot tub together, etc.), it’s typically saved the brunt of its sexual harassment and abuse for its female contestants.
Until now.
Let’s dive in.
Love’s Language Labour’s Lost
We kick the episode off with Clare floating aimlessly around in a pool, Blake Moynes screaming in delight over lizards, Bennett pouring a martini, and the arrival of a date card.
With a cryptic message about speaking Clare’s love language, our card announces that:
Riley the Workaholic
Popcorn Jordan C
Multiple Girlfriend Yosef
Ivan the Aeronautical Engineer
Deep Breathing Ben
Belgian Loafers Bennett
Huggy Zac C
Farting Fuck Zach J
Already Won the Season Dale
are off for the first Group Date of the season. This nightmare is broken into three rounds for each love language: Speech (I guess?), Gifts, and Scent? I don’t know, please don’t make me try to understand this.
For our first round, the bros are dragged on stage to spew some faux words of love to our tragic leading lady, who’s waiting for them in a tiny cardboard tower. It’s like Shakespeare, but without any emotion, intelligence, or depth. They begin rattling off absolute and utter nonsense about their feelings for Clare—this is very important, mostly because of how Clare turns into a hilarious hypocrite later on, so remember this—while she soaks up the fake validation like a dehydrated landlocked sea sponge.
“Lie to me, you fool” (ABC)
The entire thing is so fucking stupid because none of it is real. None of these men know Clare, and like, 99% of them are just here for the chance to be an Instagram influencer, but Clare acts like they’re all proposing. Honey, you need some higher fucking standards, STAT.
Of course Dale comes and prattles on more of the same, but Clare nearly faints in excitement. Like yes, he’s hot, but he’s said absolutely nothing of substance. Clare has been built up to be this strong, smart, takes-no-shit badass—but she’s not. This date is fake as fuck, but it’s what she wants. Dale offers nothing of substance but is hot, which is what she wants.
Round 2 of this new-age Shakespearean tragedy is the saddest gift-giving experience in history. The bros sprint back to their rooms to retrieve little tokens of their affection for Clare. Among the trash pile are a queen chess piece, an old baseball, and—okay fine, this is definitely a Producer plant but it’s fucking hilarious: a bottle of dog-friendly perfume for Clare’s pups from Dale.
I’m literally amazed Clare didn’t rip her clothes off and reveal a wedding dress underneath on the spot.
Round 3 is a…smell test? Clare is blindfolded and has to attempt to tell which suitor is before her by aggressively groping and smelling them. If that sounds fucking weird and uncomfortable, it’s because it’s fucking weird and uncomfortable. Some of the bros seem really thrown off by this, especially when Clare realizes it’s Dale in front of her and pretty much orgasms on the spot.
Yep (ABC)
Not really sure what the point of this date is, other than to hammer home the fact that Dale is the winner. You can see the air deflate out of every single one of the remaining suitors. They already sensed this night 1, and now they know it.
When they gather for the date’s cocktail party sesh, you can tell the bros are out of sorts and confused about where they stand and what’s happening. Is Dale just going to be crowned the winner tonight? Are they all going home? Do they have to quarantine again before doing so? Have they been on air long enough to become Instagram influencers?
“Who wants to spend some time with me?” Clare demands of our crestfallen bros, who immediately all appear extra confused. They sort of look at each other for an uncomfortably long time before Bennett takes one for the team and whisks Clare away.
But Clare can’t focus on Bennett’s kindness and genuine interest, because She Is Mad (TM)! She interrupts my Belgian loafer-ed future husband to stomp back over to the bros and demand to know why they didn’t all jump at the chance to have 1:1 time with her.
So a few things here. On the one hand, I get it—these guys are supposed to be here for Clare, and they should be jumping all over the chance to get some time with her. On the other hand, she’s handling it like a jilted 7th grader, and is wildly overreacting. On the other other hand, she’s just spent the entire day showing them she couldn’t give a flying fuck about any of them but Dale, so I totally get it. I wouldn’t have wanted time with her either.
Yosef—despite having spent the last few months sliding endlessly into women’s DMs and dating his girlfriend—speaks up and assures Clare that they’re all here for her. It sounds genuine enough.
So Riley, of course, takes WILD offense to it. He freaks the fuck out, telling Yosef it’s unacceptable and rude to speak for all of the men. I mean sure, if he’d said “we’re all pissed at you for choosing Dale over us already” that would be accurate but inappropriate, but he just said they’re all here for Clare. Why Riley wants to give Clare any further indication this isn’t true is beyond me, but he of course doubles down and throws a fucking tantrum.
Clare—because again, she’s the complete antithesis of the persona the Producers are forcing on us—lets Riley who just argued against being here for her sweep her away. They dance to some Boyz II Men music and swap spit. He of course then gets the Group Date Rose, because why the fuck not.
Love Will Set Us Free
We interrupt our group date insanity for a 1:1 so ripe with horror and red flags that it may as well be wearing a MAGA hat and giving maskless hugs to vulnerable populations. Off for a spot of public humiliation and the unearthing of deeply troubling truths with Clare is Pregnant Jason, our 872th former pro footballer this season.
They wander off into the desert, Clare wearing a teeny, frilly romper like we all do when tromping into the dusty, freezing cold of the night. The theme of this date is “Love Will Set Us Free” which apparently is a therapy session from hell. We start with a pile of tiles and some Sharpies. Our dynamic duo are instructed to doodle terrible things they’ve been called onto the tiles, which include:
Clare
Needy
Hard to Love
Bitch
Jason
Manipulative
Cold
Mean
HOO BOY!
Then they smash the tiles on the rocks, as though this is going to make either of them more lovable or less of a sociopath, and then go scream into the darkness.
Honestly, same.
After that rollercoaster, it’s time for more trauma bonding. They sit down in the dirt, Clare tugging awkwardly at her mini romper, and read letters to their younger selves, and honestly, this is where it gets really, really bad. Jason may be a good, if troubled, guy—but he comes across as a fucking serial killer.
“Mass murder only counts as one murder, technically, right?” (ABC)
He goes on and on and on about what a piece of shit he is and how he’s hurt other people, and talks at length about childhood trauma with his parent’s relationship. Regardless of whether or not he’s carving people up in his spare time, this date is a complete and utter breach of trust—they’re using the guy’s trauma as a delightfully fun date schtick, and opening Jason and his entire circle of friends and family to this insanity. We don’t know the truth behind Jason and his actions, and the Producers don’t care—his trauma is our enjoyment, peasants! Let them eat cake.
Clare eats this up like it’s…well, cake. Because Clare thinks opening up to a total stranger and spilling wildly inappropriate secrets in the middle of a desert is a clear sign that this is love. Clare may be 39 years old, but she has the emotional intelligence of a 9 year old. If I’m being generous.
Clare then burns the dress she wore for the finale of Juan Pablo’s season, because this somehow makes her a strong, badass woman. Then she promptly gives Jason and his sea of red flags a rose, and honestly, I’m not sure whom this is more damaging for.
I’m Ready to Lay My Balls on the Table
Look, ball jokes are funny. It’s just a fact. But there’s a line there, and that line becomes between joking about balls and forcing men to show their balls.
On that ominous note, we dive into our second Group Date of the season. A card with a testicles joke arrives, much to Brandon’s delight.
“I’m ready to put my balls on the table!” he chirps. In looks and personality, this man was the Achilles heel of my 20s.
Trotted out onto an astroturf field are:
First-Kiss Blake Moynes
Eazy the Accused Rapist
Whoever the fuck Tyler S is
Joe the Origami Doctor
Demar the Skydiver
Knight in Shining Armor Chasen
The Other Blake M
Kenny the Boy Band Manager
Brody Jenner
Bubble Garin who I think was also in a cabernet suit
Brandon (not to be confused with Brendan)
Clare is eagerly awaiting them, and nearly bursts with excitement when she shares the date: it’s a friendly game of strip dodgeball!
I’m not even fucking kidding (ABC)
Wait, what?
I laughed for a second before I realized Clare was completely serious. And, seemingly, so was her enthusiasm. The bros play. It is strip dodgeball. The losers slowly strip down to fucking jockstraps. Their fucking asses are hanging out, so the show editors had to put fucking black bars over their bodies. The blue team, who ultimately loses, is told to fucking strip naked. One bro refuses, saying “I love you, but I can’t.”
The losers then fucking parade naked back through the resort. They’re still fucking naked when they rejoin the bros at home, sitting on couches in their bare fucking asses with pillows over their junk.
I don’t even fucking know where to start with this. I guess my approach is going to be: debunk some of the praise/excuse-making for this episode (although luckily many outlets and watchers were horrified, including Cosmopolitan, The Hollywood Reporter, Glamour, and The Ringer).
Clare’s just the lead and she doesn’t get to choose the date—she didn’t do anything wrong: Fucking false. Clare and the Producers are so fucking rabid to prove she’s a strong, take-no-shit badass that will stand her ground for respect and what’s right. She could’ve flat-out refused to go along with this, don’t give me any fucking excuses about her not wanting to rock the boat or break the rules—she left her fucking season after only 12 days to run off with her chosen suitor.
Only one contestant had a problem with it, and he was able to not strip: Fucking false. Yosef was rightfully really upset about it after the date as well, and he made that very clear. We have no idea what was going though the rest of the guys’ heads, but it’s very likely that many of them were uncomfortable with this yet went along because they didn’t know what else to do/felt like they had to. How can we think this way? Because it happens to women all the time. How many female contestants have spoken out later about being uncomfortable with date themes, but that they thought they didn’t have a choice not to participate? How many female friends out in the real world have later spoken out about going through with a situation they were uncomfortable with, but that they thought they didn’t have a choice not to participate?
It’s harmless fun: Fucking false. Forcing anyone to strip naked on national TV in front of strangers (both with them and at home) is abusive and fucking disgusting.
The men are interchangeable. There’s only flesh: Fucking false. This is a line directly from what’s usually my favorite recap. It’s fucking disgusting. Vulture is well known for their cutting humor, it’s why I love them, but dismissing this event as “whatever, it’s just dudes” is fucking gross and fucking abusive. It’s not funny. If this was done to women we would be freaking the fuck out. We were freaking the fuck out over the Lingery Finasco date last season, and that at least didn’t force the women to strip completely naked (god, that sentence kills me to type).
JUST BECAUSE THE CONTESTANTS ARE MEN DOESN’T MEAN WE’RE FREE TO SEXUALLY HARASS THEM AND FORCE THEM INTO POTENTIALLY DAMAGING SITUATIONS FOR OUR OWN AMUSEMENT. MEN FACE SEXUAL ASSAULT AND HARASSMENT TOO.
The Producers think we want to see men being forced to strip for our entertainment. What we actually want are women-respecting women being treated with respect themselves.
Unsurprised but still disgusted that a franchise that hosted a women's lingerie pillow fight tournament last season just forced men to literally bare their asses in a game of strip dodgeball, I miss a bit of the cocktail party sesh trying not to break my TV in half.
When I do focus, my dog has to physically restrain me from trying once again. Eazy is the first to whisk Clare away for some 1:1 time, because of fucking course the Producers are allowing a man they know has been accused of rape get alone time with their female lead.
Honestly, fuck this show.
Next for some alone time with Clare is Blake Moynes, who was…on the losing team and doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. Fuck I HATE THIS SHOW.
He swoops in to tell Clare all about how he broke the rules again for her. Clare, because she has no self-respect or respect for any of the other men, loves it. The bros are fucking furious. They march out and demand that Blake leaves. It’s kind of ridiculous, but kind of adorable—I live for budding group bromances.
Oops (ABC)
Brandon aka Brody Jenner gets some alone time with Clare next. It…does not go well.
Brandon seems a little bro-y and a lot gorgeous, so it’s not a reach that he may not be the most tactful or selfless of guys. But despite his dopey ball jokes—well, actually, ignore that. He seems pretty entertaining and pretty sweet and pretty harmless, if not the sharpest tool in the shed. He appears genuinely excited to get some alone time with Clare, and he starts asking her questions. Sure, they’re basic, but—Well, no buts about it, I guess. Clare flies off the fucking handle, demanding to know why Brandon’s there. He suitably looks like a deer in headlights, and is clearly embarrassed by her reaction and trying to get himself together. He tells her she’s beautiful and he wanted to get to know her, and she once again flies off the handle, telling him the other men know her drive and her strength and how can be not know her personally??
HONEY. NONE OF THE MEN KNOW YOU PERSONALLY. ANY BRO TELLING YOU HE DOES OR TELLING YOU HOW MUCH HE LOVES ONE OF YOUR KEY QUALITIES IS FULL OF SHIT. THEY’VE KNOWN YOU FOR 12 HOURS.
God, I’m so fucking sick of this show and these leads and the crap they try to cram down our throats. Clare, who’s now going on five seasons of proving why she’s going to be single forever, marches Brandon out and somehow seems to think this proves that she’s not just slaughtering the men in an attempt to force giving out the Final Rose to Dale 11 episodes early.
At the end of the night, Chasen inexplicably gets the Group Date Rose, Yosef is getting ready to tell Clare how upset he is about the date, Blake Moynes is off smirking somewhere in the darkness, Clare purrs “obviously I enjoyed watching you all” to the men after they’ve all been sexually harassed before stealing Dale away to blindfold him and attempt to suck his soul out of his body, and we…don’t get a Rose Ceremony.
WELCOME TO THE FUCKING BACHELORVERSE.
At any rate, perhaps sensing they’ve gone too far, the Producers do throw us a bone with an INCREDIBLE montage of Bennett flitting around his suite with Demar and a glass of spa water.” The two enjoy green juices, a tour of Bennett’s Belgian loafer collection, and face masks out by the jacuzzi. It is everything I’ve ever wanted and more. Bennett for Season 26 Bachelor!
Until next week!
