I had a bit of an inner struggle this week trying to sort out whether to focus on Sean or the dates. Both were just so boring, and the combination of the two interest voids made for a very slow two hours of TV. But ultimately, I decided, misogynistic statements aside ("You're basically just asking me to kiss you;" "You should do it. I think you can do it;" "I can't allow you to continue."), it was Sean that rendered the dates drama-less and dull, so I gave the nod to the events over the man. I still can't decided if I'd rather date Sean, spend two hours lost in the desert, break my jaw, or be treated like a famed movie hooker, but at least Sean would probably find some honey-dipped way to patronize me no matter which I chose.
Rock Climbing in the Desert
So, my heart goes out to Selma on this one because I too am not really an "outdoorsy" kind of person. If it's 75 and sunny, I might be up for a picnic outing or some reading on the deck, but if we're talking mid-80's or higher, all I'm going to be capable of is stewing in my own sweat. Being an outdoor person is kind of like being a morning person. Though it's really a value-neutral lifestyle choice, it endows people with an inexplicable power to judge those who don't subscribe. The opposite of an outdoor person isn't an indoor kid (which conjures up an unflattering enough image as it is, involving perpetual nasal congestion and pale skin), but a lazy person, as if there's no industrious pursuit available to commit oneself to away from the great outdoors. Selma's not lazy (I assume - any woman who looks that put together in yoga gear is at least putting effort into something), so why must she be punished for not wanting to spend half her date with sweat populating every crevice in her entire body rather than just the classic first date armpits?
All this being said and sympathies to Selma aside, I do think Sean made a valid point by bringing Selma on this date. Annoyingly outdoorsy men usually do best with annoyingly outdoorsy wives. If he loves hiking, he needs a woman who will go hiking, even if it's 90 degrees and there's a Making Mr. Right marathon waiting for them in the air conditioning. I don't fault him for putting Selma through the ringer, but I do fault the show (and perhaps Sean's dreamy muscles), for creating a climate in which Selma can't be honest about what she's into. It horrifies me to think what reality television has come to if it's okay to make clear that you're not up for a quick lip lock, but not okay to say that you'll pass on the fresh air.
The Roller Derby Date
I swear, next week the group date is going to be "Stabbing each other with broken shards of glass." So desperate are the producers to stir up drama between these charming, plastic housemates, that they're doing everything short of arming them with hand grenades and bayonets. It seems like every time the producers set the show up for something big emotionally, Sean pulls the rug out from under them. First, he refused to allow the prank on Desiree to percolate, making the big reveal before the bemused smile ever left her face, and now he puts the kibosh on the chick fight on wheels. Sean's lack of concern for us, the television audience, might make him a fine husband, but it certainly doesn't make him a very good watch.
The Pretty Woman Date
I know this may be kind of surprising, but I don't consider myself a feminist (I know, it's incredibly hard to believe that someone who devotes this much time to The Bachelor each week isn't a bra-burning sister of Betty Friedan, but it's true!). But I swear, if one more person, male or female, suggests that playing Julia Robert's role in Pretty Woman is every girl's dream, I might start some sort of ex post facto suffragettes campaign. Let's leave aside for a moment the fact that Julia Roberts was a prostitute in that movie and that she had to deal with aggressively handsy Jason Alexander. I'm pretty sure having a man (or even a successful reality television franchise) buy you lots of things isn't every little girl's dream. Some little girls want to be astronauts or marine biologists. Others want to invent the next flavor of soda or play soccer for Team USA. Hell, other little girls are so spoiled that they wouldn't have space for the dress and the diamonds behind their dollhouse, and their stuffed animals, and their pony. And yes, I would prefer Leslie's date to any of the other physically-daunting, motion sickness-inducing, bikini-mandatory dates that have been trotted out this season. And yes, if I'm going to be sent packing, I might as well get sent on my merry way with something I can sell on ebay (and how lucky for Leslie that she lives in Vegas where at least pawn shops aren't hard to come by). But as someone who used to be a little girl, I believe I can speak for all of us when I say we dream bigger than this.
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