This guy watched The Bachelorette premiere so you don’t have to

Humor columnist Joe Donatelli recaps the premiere of The Bachelorette season set in Charlotte

If you watched The Bachelorette with the sound off you would think it’s about a group of good-looking people who stand next to bodies of water and stare. But America’s favorite show it loves to hate has slightly more to offer than that.

This season’s bachelorette is Emily, a twice-engaged 26-year-old single mom bombshell whose first fiancée, tragically, died in an airplane crash. She met her second fiancée, Brad, on The Bachelor, but they broke off their engagement when they each realized how boring he was.

Now Emily, who just can’t seem to find love without a camera around, has 25 new men to choose from, some of them, as The Cork pointed out, possibly heterosexual.

In last night’s season premiere we met Kalon, who said he used to be a womanizer, which is secret TV code for, “I know it looks like I’m trying to settle down, but when I get the boot from this show I am down to bang, ladies.” More on Kalon later. He’s the star of the program.

There was the jock (didn’t catch his name), who sat by a river and stared, which means HE KNOWS HOW TO PLAY THE GAME.

There was the token black guy.

Here’s an idea, Bachelor/Bachelorette producers. You want the highest rated reality TV show ever? Pick a white bachelor and 25 black women. Or a black woman with 25 Asian men. Or a Latino guy with 25 Canadian women. Or something like that. The show has been accused of being less-than-diverse. Go all in on the diversity. It would be fascinating. America can handle this. Joe Biden is vice president. We can handle anything.

There was struggling singer/songwriter, David, who is struggling because he can’t sing in tune. And that’s another way to go, producers. One woman, 25 struggling singer/songwriters all trying to get their lame coffee-house music on-air. It would be wonderful, like if Glee got hit by a train.

My dark horse this season is Jef with one f, the CEO of a company that sells water and donates the profits to dig wells in the Third World, which is totally admirable. Sadly, whatever dignity he earned through his good deeds was negated when he awkwardly rode his skateboard to the mansion and tried to de-wuss his entrance by chucking his skateboard and possibly maiming someone.

GIF via Brian Huntington

Of course the producers are not above milking the death of Emily’s first fiancée for all it’s worth. One of the contestants is a race car driver named Arie.

More dudes: A guy I’ll be calling “Crazy” Joe all season, Kyle, who sort of oozes into a room, Stevie, the big-mouth party MC whom it will shock you to learn is from New Jersey and Randy, who thinks the way to a woman’s heart is to act like Adam Sandler and dress like your grandma.

And let’s not forget Tony, who brought an ostrich egg to the house to show Emily that he’s capable of passing a seventh-grade health class assignment and is thus ready for fatherhood. I hope there is a teaspoon egg race this season, because that shit will be fun to watch.

The final guy to arrive was Kalon, who claimed in the opening that he has money and showed it by making his entrance via helicopter. He acts like a future governor of Texas, but until he fools enough people into granting him that title, I call him Airwolf.

As this is a reality show, it only took about four seconds before the contestants began bickering about who was fake. Fake is the worst thing you can call someone on a reality show, which is a show that is designed to look real, but is actually totally fake. Calling a reality show contestant fake is like saying, “Derrick Rose is a jerk because when he’s on the court he only likes to play basketball. He doesn’t care about his opponents’ feelings.” If you’re on a reality show, and someone calls you fake, you’re doing it right. Airwolf is doing it right.

My only complaint, really, was the true lack of diversity. Yes, there was only one black guy, and no Asian guys, and one Latin guy, but even worse, there were no bald guys. There were no what I liked to call dented soup cans.

This is the show’s real tragedy, and why I can’t take it seriously. It’s the odd men—the bald, the fat, the short, the stuttering—none of whom are represented on The Bachelorette, who make the best husbands. The dented soup cans are reliable and appreciative. They don’t look great on the outside, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with the inside.

When forced to choose between good-looking guys who throw skateboards into the bushes and good-looking party MCs named Stevie, a woman looking for love will do a lot of staring at the lake.

MORE: My very funny friend Brian Huntington wrote about the season premiere on his website. It includes some good Photoshops. Check it out here.

PREVIOUSLY: This guy watched The Bachelor so you wouldn’t have to

Joe Donatelli is a journalist in Los Angeles. Follow him on Twitter and Facebook.

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Author: Joe Donatelli

Joe Donatelli is a writer in Los Angeles. He publishes The Humor Columnist.