Woohoo! New York City! Where the streets are paved with gold! Following the obligatory shots of Manhattan's finer skyscrapers, Squares of Time, and liberty-indicating giant stone statues, we land in what I'll call for the sake of y'all proving me wrong, the East 50s somewhere? Trista stands on a street corner as a voice-over tells us, "Because Greg and I haven't had an alone date so far, we kind of have to do some catching up." So what better way to do that than by speeding to your destination on a motorcycle! Oh, lord. Better work to keep those Bad Idea Jeans of yours from getting caught in that hog's gears, Greg, because this scenario is as lame as that bike is rented. He pulls up and steps off the bike, his helmet making me want to simultaneously congratulate him for his attention to safety while operating such a vehicle and hail the Kaiser for his bravery in battle. Greg hands Trista a rose, and she returns his romantic gesture with a kiss on the cheek as passionate as the one I gave my date at the end of our aforementioned Ponderosa visit ("Thanks for treating me to the extra Diet Coke, Gramma Mimi"). In the most cobbled-together interview in the history of reality television, Trista voices over from so many different speeches that if they'd actually dared to show her lips moving it would have looked like Saddam Hussein being interviewed by Conan: "When Greg pulled up on his motorcycle, I...was really excited...it was...total surprise...I was...definitely thinking...that...he...looked...pretty hot." Seriously, the clock in my office just changed six times as I was typing that sentence, so removed from the physical laws of the time-space continuum as it was. ["And then Greg chimed in with a comment about her 'sweet...can.'" -- Wing Chun]