Week 5, The Guy

No big shock, it was pretty damn hard to write this week. Between the glowing reviews on this year's season from all of you and the fact that my television is constantly luring me away from the DVR with the Olympics (which, if you took our Johnny Weir and Tara Lipinski's completely unnecessarily catty and Kelly-esque commentary on the figure skating would basically be the opposite of the Bachelor), it's been hard to find the motivation to sit down and write. But I did finally watch this week's episode, and I've decided that I'm done figuring out who Juan Pablo is. The verdict is in. We're all in accordance that he's pretty much the worst, and there's really very little left to learn about his hopes, his dreams, or his comically hypocritical fears. So instead, this week, let's focus on the many things that we're learning Juan Pablo is not.

Juan Pablo is not Carmen San Diego. 
  While I have to give Kat props for the reference, there really might not be a single 80's video game/90's game show character Juan Pablo resembles less (maybe that little orange dude from Q*Bert (I believe his name was...Q*Bert), but he could certainly give the bouncey purple snake a run for its money). Carmen San Diego was an international woman of mystery, confounding aspiring gumshoes and orthodontia/rec spec models alike (which in retrospect, seriously. Why was that game show so hard? It's not that I don't like watching preteens get disappointed. Sometimes I yell out disparaging comments about Bella Swan on the metro just for fun. But every time they got to that final suction cup map thingy and they'd reveal it to be Africa or Eastern Europe or something, you could just see those poor kids shoulders slump. To this day, Rockapella is still my go-to soundtrack for utter misery). Juan Pablo could neither orchestrate the straightening of the Leaning Tower of Pisa nor could he inspire the loyalty of a single henchman (not counting Chris Harrison who, of course, is paid rather handsomely for his trouble) much less an entirely International League of Evil.

Juan Pablo is not Selfless
 Renee: You know how, when you're a single parent, you're always very selfless?
 No, Renee. No he does not.

Juan Pablo is not Totally Uncaring
 I know it's something of a controversial opinion, but I believe it's true. Juan Pablo cares about you. Not you, dewy-eyed girl staring up at him longingly. Behind you. Through the camera. Juan Pablo is in a bit of a bind because he has two competing desires. He wants to sleep with as many women as he possibly can, and he wants to win his way into the hearts of the very people who can ensure he never has to work again. It was almost comical to watch him ping pong back and forth between these two goals on this week's episode (especially if by comical, you mean enough to make any reasonable girl want to join a sect of cloistered nuns). So obvious were his motivations, that it was almost funny to watch his little brain hamster spinning on its wheel, to watch him realize that it might not look that noble that he spent a night fornicating with one woman in the ocean and the next day locking lips with all of her friends. It was almost humorous to then see him realize that shaming that same woman for what was obviously a very consensual act probably wasn't going to restore any popularity that he had lost. But the word almost here is key because it's hard to be too tickled by his idiocy when there's a surprisingly rational and sane woman being tormented on the other end.