The women await the arrival of a package, inside which they'll discover who was selected for the first date and where they'll be going. A gift box arrives, and the women all coo over it like it was full of the offers for the sitcom walk-on roles that they all think they're going to get out of the exposure from this show. It looks like one of those special themed gift sets that Martha Stewart tells us we're suppose to be making to hand out to the guests at the garden parties we're supposed to be throwing. Don't ask me how I know this. The things you watch when you're up at 2 in the morning. Dana, Gwen, Frances, Blonde Heather, and Helene have all been invited out to a day at the races. Who goes to the horse track for dates these days? That's something you only see on movies they show on AMC. I'm not sure any of these women own hats that are appropriately big and ridiculous for a day at the races.
But since the date isn't quite twee enough, they're going to take the "train" to the races, even though the train looked like it was just a single car. Essentially, it was like a trolley. These "dates" are so silly. They seem even more ridiculous if you consider the fact that nobody on the date was actually involved with the planning. Isn't the point of a date, in part, to find out what sorts of things the other person enjoys? Well, somewhere out there is a producer who gets a woody from watching National Velvet. Allegedly, Aaron helped put these dates together, but I don't believe it for a minute. They're right out of the Blind Date school of orchestrated interaction.
Oh and at some point in all of these proceedings, Aaron starts talking to a bachelorette about art. He explains that he's a big art lover and, as an example, mentions a painting of a World War II fighter plane on the wall at home. I'm not even kidding. That's just hysterical. He's apparently as much an "aesthete" as he is a "classical pianist."
The women schmooze and beg for attention and do everything that you expect. Aaron, though, has his eye on Helene, and invites her alone out to that "balcony" outside the back of the train car where you shove people off if you want to kill them. They chat, and Aaron whines about how much high-maintenance women annoy him when they take forever to get ready to go out. Helene says she isn't one of those women. That's probably because Helene appears to be one of those effortlessly pretty women who could be dragged by horses through five miles of mud and still look stunning. It's easy to be low-maintenance when you've done laps through the nice end of the gene pool. Aaron tells Helene that he's glad they had their time together alone from the others. Helene's glad, too. Everybody's happy. Except the four bachelorettes who aren't getting the quality time with their man.