Oooooh, Harry Winston. We're sizing rings (well, we're not. She is) today, and she enters through the giant front doors to meet a Kristin, who sits her down at a desk and sizes Trista's finger. She's a size five. Is that a small size? I've never sham shopped for a fake wedding before. Kristin then opens up four boxes and has Trista try on a few rings, Trista noting, "I'm having a little trouble believing I'm sitting here right now." Kristin puts a fourteen-karat point on it, noting, "Hopefully you'll be opening one of these boxes soon. But no pressure!" Shouldn't there be pressure? Should there be a lot of pressure?
Back at the Unstable Stable, Trista voices over during an aerial shot, which always makes it look like her interview space has been moved somewhat northward and into the Divine Kingdom Of Heaven. And what she tells us is this: "The black cloud hanging over this picture is that I can't be with two people. I can only be with one." She notes that these final two "intimate" dates will provide her with "vital information" as to "who will be the right choice." "Vital information"? That is so romantic. And then she'll be able to feed her data into the love-o-meter, and the computer will spit out a series of numbers that will determine that she knows who to be in love with. Just remember to fill out your Scantron forms completely! And eyes on your own papers! Wait. Ew. When did I become "the love proctor"?
The Love Proctor is totally the name of my first eight porn films. By the way.
Charlie shows up at the house first with his gay orange bag. The floor is festooned with pillows and a fire rages in the fireplace. Charlie kicks open a bottle of wine and they toast to "last evenings." You got that right, sister. Trista starts to ask, "Now what would you do..." but Charlie cuts her off, thinking that she's asked, "Now what would you do to me...?" Okay. I'm seeing her reasoning more and more here. He tells us, "I want to know if I'm really the one for her," and he tells her, "I want to let myself completely go. I want to let all of my emotions overcome me." But he worries her heart may be in another place, fretting, "I won't know until you make that decision." He goes on that he's had to put "a lot of faith" in the fact that they could "build something everlasting." Trista tells us that it's hard for her to reciprocate, and we cut back to Trista answering his calls of love for her with the similarly romantic "I like blue on you." He gave her his heart and she gave him a pen. Been there. She continues on that she thinks Charlie feels pretty "confident about where he stands," adding, "I didn't feel like he was pushing it too hard." Ew, not like that. Actually, totally like that. They banter for twelve minutes about why he isn't wearing a watch, and when they conclude their spontaneous stage production of Einstein's Dreams, she's running her hand up and down his wrist. "Ooooh, I just love the way you don't wear a watch! You're so sexy with your not-watch-wearing ways. Time is for suckers, no watch is for lovers!" she seems to say. Cut to Charlie lying in front of the fire all splayed out with his shirt rising juuuuuuuust a little too far off his pants. Gack! Get the clippers! "I feel that Trista has her mind made up on who she's going to choose in the last Rose Ceremony," he says. "And I believe truly in my heart that it is myself." Allow myself to introduce myself. Minus the muddled syntax, you've got a nation behind you on that sentiment. More? Oh, very well: "I would be very shocked if I didn't end up being the one that Trista chooses." Keep out the clippers! To trim his hubris!