Sick and twisted props to Tracie, who was fundamental in the timely completion of this recap. I would also like to extend a formal apology to her, both for dragging her through this experience with me, and also for the twisted metaphor in which I was a needy welfare mom and she was taking my kids to the circus. I would also like to extend an apology to Child Protective Services for the somewhat remote location of my difficult-to-find house; call off the dogs and rest assured that I am now taking adequate care of my non-existent children.
Hmmm. There must be a recap in here somewhere. Hang on. Let me check my pockets.
Good morning, Angels. Good morning, Chris Harrison! Chris "There'll Be Scary Host Stories And Tales Of The Glories Of Bachelor Shows Long Long Ago" Harrison saunters into the living room at the Ladies' Villa, for once at least satisfied in the knowledge that he's not the only screen presence this week to make the bulk of his salary via his shamelessly obvious product placements for Chess King. He tells the assembled remaining six ladies that he's brought with him some of "Bob's closest friends." And, following behind him into the living room like they're The Disney Electric Light Parade Of The C-List and he's their drum major are:
1. Greg, who is introduced as Bob's "business partner." He is a tall, slender gentleman with a green button-down shirt and jeans who is so weirdly tanned in all the wrong places that he makes my first box of 64-color Crayolas climb out of my parents' basement and go, "Now we understand why there's an umber!" If I storyboarded this episode, that thing would be down to a nub. Thank goodness for the sharpener on the back. But criminy to the fact that those damn sharpeners never worked.
2. Katina, Greg's wife. I kind of liked her when she was with the Waves, but I can't fucking STAND her solo stuff.
3. Jamie, from The Bachelorette, who, you'll recall (recall, I say...RECALL!), seemed to be an early shoo-in to win Trista's heart, until Trista was all, "Those teeth! So bright! Blinded by teeth! Bliiiiiiiiiiiind! [Confused pause] Oh, wait. Those are my teeth. But his teeth are pretty white, too. Whatever we're both doing with our teeth, four out of five dentists agree we could probably lay off the White Strips for a while. Even though they whiten while you sleep!" Then Jamie wasn't on that show anymore.
Chris tells the girls, "They're going to move in with you for a little bit" in a tone so sarcastic and sad that you half-expect him to tack on a rueful, whispered aside of "Wonderful. More mouths to feed." An absolute slave to process, Chris vamps on, recounting the actual rules and format of this show, now in its fifth identical season: "You're all gonna go on a date with Bob. There's [sic] three intimate one-on-one dates and a group date. They're here to decide who gets that one-on-one time." It's no wonder Chris always seems so incredibly tired and blasé about everything this season, what with his second full-time job at The Department Of Inessential Tasks taking up the main bulk of his time. Running a government agency is tiring, V-neck-sweater-wearing work, people. Man. Look in those eyes. Chris has had it with this noise. What an irony that he waited so long to be offered a rose from Trista, and now the first rose he's ever being offered is the one at the end of the metaphor about the bloom being off of it. "Jamie, remember you're here as Bob's friend," Chris volleys, hoping to land some A-material right at the end of his set and make us forget the tiny pencil sketch illustration of Chris Harrison's face next to the entry for the entry for "in, phoning it" in the latest edition of the OED. Hands off the ladies, Jamie! You never being able to get laid might be television's most compellingly tragic B-story. Just don't have a panic attack and go tell Caroline Rhea all about it again, or you'll risk becoming television's least compelling C-story. Just don't freak out, man. DON'T FREAK OUT.