The Bachelorette / Week 4

Mano a Mano

The testosterone was pumping on this week's episode as our frat boys, er bachelors, headed to Bermuda for a week of fun, sun and chest-thumping on their quest to win Emily Maynard's heart. Macho meathead Ryan vs. race car driver Arie. Chris (not Gerard Butler) vs. Doug the Hugger. All the guys vs. Doug the Damn Grouch, who gets the prized one-on-one date and goes all Negative Nelly on us in anticipation (what's his problem, anyway?).

Oh, if only Emily knew. She and daughter Ricki seem so content frolicking along the Bermuda beach that one forgets for a moment the whole purpose of the show -- to find a mister for miss Maynard. As the dudes come hootin' and hollerin' up to the hotel on their scooters, I, for one, have my doubts. Hell, I can hardly muster the energy to write this recap. Imagine having to muster the energy to go on a date with Doomsday Doug.

He's "just Doug." Don't expect him to make the first move.

I know, I know. There I go being mean again. The truth is, a couple of the guys have actually grown on me. But Darkside Doug isn't one of them. Even Emily, who says there's nobody she'd rather spend the day with, thinks he's hiding something. Let's hope she finds out what it is -- and soon. Their date is a big pile of boring, shopping for island tchotchkes and listening to him yammer on about being a dad. More of the same at dinner, where Doug the Drip declares, "I'm just a guy. I'm just Doug." 

Alas, Doug the Slug gets a rose. But does Emily get a kiss? Nope. Saint Doug tells us behind the scenes that he doesn't "ever make the first move, ever." You know what I have to say to that? What-ever. Do us all a favor and get lost.

Another day, another group date, this one carrying the competitive theme of the week by pitting the guys against each other in a sailboat race. Yawn. The most interesting thing about this date is that Kalon, a.k.a. Chopper, keeps his mouth shut. Jef cuts his finger. Arie and Ryan play nice for a while. And together they beat out Sean, Chris (not Gerard Butler), Travis and Charlie, who sobs in the van on the way back to the hotel -- sobs, people! Seems the prospect of losing out on an evening with Emily is too much for him. Get it together, man.

Race car driver Arie wastes no time heading for the winner's circle later in the evening. He's the first to whisk Emily off to the beach for a makeout session. Babyface Jef is next to have some alone time with our lass and while he charms her with his adorable (and seemingly sincere) "I like you," he doesn't lean in for a lip lock. No matter; Emily decides he's worth the wait. Yeah, maybe she's waiting for him to make it through puberty. I like him, I really do, but he kind of looks like her younger brother. The little cherub is doing something right, though, because he gets the group date rose -- again. 

The third and final date of the week is the dreaded two-on-one. In this diabolical setup, two guys go out with Emily, but only one gets to come back. The whole thing is so awkward and gross, I won't bore you with the details. The winner is John, the guy who calls himself "Wolf." The loser is Nate, whose only crime as far as I could tell was mispronouncing the word quinoa. Poor fella. Hey, before I worked at a national food magazine I didn't know how the hell to pronounce it either.

Jef and Emily

Finally, we arrive at another pre-rose-ceremony cocktail party. By now I'm about to doze off when I see Jef (remember folks, that's Jef with one f) wearing Bermuda shorts with knee-high socks. Is he for real? I wish I could make fun of him, but I have to admit, it's kinda genius. After all, when in Bermuda. Get it?

Let's see, what else ... Well, Ryan chastises Emily for making out with Arie the race car driver, preaching some BS about setting an example for the young girls of America. Later he confides to us that he's readying himself for something "bigger." Apparently, he's auditioning to be the next bachelor. Not for all the creatine at the gym, Meathead. Go lift some more weights, you freak.

Meanwhile, Chris (not Gerard Butler) and Smug Doug have a showdown about who's the better man. I vote for Chris. He may not be Gerard Butler, but he's got more personality and class than his older nemesis, that's for sure. When all the roses are handed out, it's bye bye Charlie and so long pony-tailed Michael. Anybody else feel the producers' influence here? From what I've seen of Miss E., she's no dummy, so ratings pressure is the only explanation for keeping Ryan and Kalon (that's Meathead and Chopper to you and me) around.

Next week the whole gang's off to London. Cheerio until then!