Episode 7, The Good, The Bad, and The Banal: Chris

Let's be real. I'd be pretty hard pressed to string two sentences together about the non-occurrences that somehow filled 90 minutes on this week's episode. This episode was pure filler, penance we were all forced to pay to find out whose family only gives their blessing with teeth gritted and Chris Harrison standing off camera with a cattle prod, what shocking secrets are left to be revealed, and, I suppose, grudgingly, who gets down on one knee to become the last ever man to make Des cry with saccharine rhyming nonsense.

But if we're being honest with ourselves (which, I think Chris Harrison would advocate, is an essential part of the Bachelor process), we're really all just watching to see the devastating truth that sets Des and, from the
looks of it, all the other men reeling in the penultimate episode. So this week, in an effort to erase the memory of the meaningless hours we whiled away watching Des complain about tropical fruit, we'll focus on what the big secret might be and who, exactly, is hiding it. Though the editors certainly want us to believe it's Drew, we've all been fooled before by their artful work, so I'll devoted a little bit of time to what each of these strong bastions of manhood have festering in their dirty laundry (asides from four week's worth of v-necks marinated in axe body spray).

First up, we'll turn to Chris, the lovable, goofy poet who seems just a few synapses short of those required to generate an evil plot. Years of practice has taught us that the secret is going to be something like lingering feelings for an ex-girlfriend back home or some other unconvincing excuse (I'm sorry - did I say unconvincing excuse?  I meant "job" or "child." It's funny how similar those words are) that they must immediately get back to, but wouldn't it be amazing if, just once, it was something more realistic?  Something equally upsetting, but more banal - more like the issues actual couples face when they're deciding to take the next step on their romantic journey (I'll never forget the words my husband said to me when we decided to take those next steps: "Honey," he said to me. "You're an amazing, amazing person. With that said, why are we paying a collective $3600 per month on rent? Let's try domestic cohabitation in a one bedroom apartment with a sunroom. It seems like the perfect place to find love.")

It always irked me a little bit that we never got to see Emily and Jef have a reasonable conversation about religion, which ostensibly was pretty important to Jef and is a major life decision that you probably shouldn't fake with marionette role play and time spent on the gun range. But here's hoping we get another chance with Des and Chris when he reveals his deepest secret is: insurmountable credit card debt!

Yes, that's right. Chris, like millions of Americans has ruined his credit living a life that's beyond his means. Let's face it. Chris is repeatedly billed as a "former baseball player" and not in the way that Cal Ripkin or Ken Griffey Jr. are "former baseball players" either. We know the guy hangs out in coffee shops all day, probably mooching off the free wifi and trying to think of a word that rhymes with "bill collector." Chris seems like a decent enough guy, so I can't say I'm exactly rooting for him to have a future filled with anxiety and stress, but I still find myself hoping against hopes that we're building toward a conversation that involves Des somberly saying if she ever wants to start her own fashion line, she can't be saddled with that much debt before she sends Chris packing. There'd be a little something refreshing about something so real.