Producers narrowed the field down to forty women, and then gave them all psychological evaluations. Those who passed were rejected. They were also given medical exams, and we get to see some woman's pee in a specimen bottle. Ew. The producers then interviewed the women to make sure that they really wanted to go on the show to land a husband. They don't want another Alex Michel on their hands. Of course, how many women do they think would show up if they held a contest like this but declined to televise it? Clips of women insisting that they want to get married. One woman accidentally outs herself as bisexual, or it was just a slip of the tongue. The women all describe their perfect man. The producers ask each contestant how she intends to "win" her man away from the other women so that they can make sure they get some good, catty bitches. Clips of women dancing and singing, for some reason. Maybe they think Simon Cowell is The Bachelor. Finally, they reveal which twenty-five women they've chosen, and I'll be damned if I'm going to list them all. Half of them will probably get no screen time anyway, so what's the point? I think 70% of the women are blonde. Five of them have exactly the same hairstyle. I'm going to have a hard time telling them all apart. There's an Asian-American woman. There's one of either Middle Eastern or Latin American descent. There's one African-American. There's one of Indian descent. The montage ends with the last woman insisting that she wants a ring with a "big rock." Yup, these women are certainly in it for the right reasons.
Commercials. When we return, it's time for the third bachelor: Robert, thirty-six, a director of business development for a financial software company in New York. He's a salesman, isn't he? I also want to point out that Robert is a year older than the cut-off age for the women. Niiiiice. Robert works out and pretends to talk on his cell phone, while Chris narrates that Robert was nominated by his mother first ("I want a grandchild, dammit! He's not getting any younger!"), but then by three other women who knew him as well. In his audition tape, Robert says that he hasn't had a girlfriend for a while, but that he hopes this show would help him "pull it together." Yeah, if you can't work out a relationship in private, trying to do it on national television is a definite fix. Chris insists that Robert works "24/7" as a businessman. It turns out Robert works from home. I suspect "director of business development for a financial software company" is code for "guy who spams you with email pyramid schemes." They show him working on his laptop to prove that he's some bigwig (look! He uses computers! He must be rich and important!) and blathering on about having global partnerships. Probably to import those herbal creams that guarantee erections that last hours long, if my email junk box is any indication. Robert explains that he's at the point in his life where he wants to look over when he wakes up in the morning and see his wife there. Probably so he can wake her up and demand that she make breakfast for him. Chris insists that Robert isn't some "pick-up artist." He explains that he doesn't approach people in bars or toss out stupid lines. But he's willing to go on a reality show and go on cheesy, manufactured dates with multiple women? Sorry, I'm not buying what he's selling. And I don't just mean the herbal cream. He sees this show as an "opportunity" to disappear for a few weeks and focus on "meeting somebody." Great, the guy's treating marriage like a business trip. That's a good sign. He concludes, "I guess I have every quality except for one -- a wife." A wife is a quality now? Is that better or worse than Jason treating a wife like furniture?