Here is the thing about America: it is the greatest country on Earth. Hot dogs. Tube socks. The GMC Yukon. These were all things that are invented here. These are just some of the examples of the might of American creativity, passion, and good, ole fashioned braun.
Here is the other thing about America: we work too damn hard. In France they get something like 48 weeks of paid vacation. In Denmark they shut down the country for the Pink Power Ranger’s birthday. In Argentina they sleep for 22 hours a day. Every day. Besides on Christmas. Then they get pissed at their children for making them be conscience for the 2.5 hours it takes to open up presents.
If there is one, and only one, thing I would change about America it would be the Holiday system. We have less. We need more. Victory over Japan Day. St. Patrick’s Day. The day after the day where we celebrate the anniversary of Teddy Roosevelt losing his eye. Bachelor Finale Day. Today, the day I am writing and/or reminiscing about in this blog post, was the last day of Season 20 of The Bachelor. And I am spending this part of it here, in my office, working my tush off and watching the final episode of Ben H’s wild ride on a Russian website I am displaying on the bottom of my computer screen. Now I know everything about how poor people in the Ukraine live.
This is no way to exist. This is worse than Guantanamo Bay. This, watching The Bachelor at my place of employment, is the exact kind of thing we have charities to stop. But no charity exists for me, other than my own 401K. Thanks a lot Obama.
7:14 P.M.-Ben H and Lauren B are visiting with Ben’s parents so that Lauren can determine why they declined to teach their child things like voice inflection and reading. Ben H’s mom apparently is over the moon that her son has fallen for 2 women he has known for less than a couple months primarily because neither of them dreams of dancing for a NFL team and/or potentially failing out of ITT Tech. Ben H’s dad may or may not be capable of speaking because he doesn’t say a word. He does use Just for Men Touch of Gray however, which makes me respect the hell out of the guy. Because if my son was on The Bachelor I’d be trying to look like a boss too. Never know when one of these chicas is going to want to trade up.
7:22 P.M.-JoJo shows up for some alone time with Ben. Ben H says “I have moments with JoJo that I will never forget.” I do not challenge this. Because in order to forget something you have to have remembered it in the first place.
7:24 P.M.-Ben H is tooling around the jungle in a jeep, driving with one hand while using the other to awkwardly attempt to grab JoJo’s right breast. At this moment I realize for certain that Ben H does not love JoJo. If he did he would either have two hands on the wheel or two hands on the babe. Either you love JoJo's body enough to be willing to crash your Jeep for it or you love JoJo, the person with an alcoholic mother, enough to keep two hands on the wheel in order to make sure she's safe. Make up your damn mind Ben. God.
7:31 P.M.-I take a break from watching The Bachelor to play a game of P-I-G on the supershot hoops that exist in my fun and cool office and nowhere else on Earth. While shooting the mini basketball into the mini basketball hoop over and over again I am overcome with questions. How is Ben going to let JoJo down? Will Lauren B accept Ben’s proposal even though it will be less articulate than a stump speech from Jeb Bush? At what point and time will JoJo’s brothers jump out from behind a palm tree and bludgeon Ben to death with one of those super hard coconut’s from Castaway?
These thoughts didn’t influence my impeccable shooting stroke of course, just like Steph Curry’s love for Gossip Girl didn’t distract him even when he discovered that Blair was pregnant while watching Netflix just seconds before Game 6 of the NBA Finals. But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Great athletes, guys like me and Steph Curry, are able to block out the white noise and just perform. Because that’s what God put us on this Earth to do. Steph Curry to shoot a basketball. Me to shoot a mini basketball with or without a leftover sausage patty from breakfast in my mouth.
7:46 P.M.-Lauren B is on her way to meet Ben again, this time on a Jamaican Beach, which may or may not be a better setting than the basement of Ben’s childhood home in Warsaw, IN. She rides up to the houseboat Ben has stalled in the middle of the Ocean in a jetski she has more than likely stolen from Don Johnson's personal residence, which she awkwardly tries to get off of without touching the water. “Jump In,” Ben yells.
“No way,” Lauren B squeals, floundering on the edge of Kenny Power’s favorite recreational vehicle. Why won’t Lauren B get in the water? Can she not swim? This would be a major red flag for me if I were in Ben’s shoes. Why? Because I need a partner who could rescue me when I try to do a belly flop in the deep end of a Holiday Inn Express pool during our honeymoon in Dubuqe, Iowa and wind up smashing my skull into the wall. Otherwise I might as well kill myself right now.
8:06 P.M.-JoJo is now talking to Ben. She asks what he is thinking. He straight up tells her ass that he is in love with two women. JoJo flees the room and tells the camera, through tears “I think my feelings are stronger than Ben’s are.” I say out loud, from my desk, “I don’t see how that is possible. I mean he just banged 3 separate women within 1 day of each other less than a week ago so...he's been invested in you all along?”
8:14 P.M.-I have left the office and am driving to my Bachelor finale party with a vengeance, bobbing and weaving my Jeep Laredo through the city streets like I am an unretired Jeff Gordon making a cameo in Fast and Furious 8 as a street racer who often reads Twitter as he drives. I reach the highway and hit the gas, driving 70 mph because I am pretty sure that anyone who drives faster than that dies instantly.
Why are there so many people on the road? Who isn’t cuddled up on a leather couch they could only afford because their Uncle Milton died in front of a television set and had no children of his own to pass his furniture down to right now? Where are your priorities, if you are doing things like driving your children back from hockey practice or hustling out to Trader Joe’s in order to buy chickens that were murdered without being tortured, and therefore taste terrible, instead of watching the greatest love story that January-March, 2016 has ever known?
Answer these questions for me. Then, based on the patriotism present in your answers, I will tell you whether or not I am going to vote for Trump.
8:22 P.M.-I am in the hall of an apartment complex feeling a cornicopa of emotions as I search for this party. Excitement. Confusion. Anger. Light headedness. I haven’t eaten in approximately 4 hours so, I finally understand what hungry villagers in third world countries are dealing with. I am damn close to randomly pounding on doors and collapsing in upon myself like a dying star when I come across a door with a handful of roses taped to it. I’ve found my way. I’m home.
8:24 P.M.-I’ve been told that my “friends” consciously saved food for me so that my body wouldn’t start consuming its own fat due to a lack of calories in its system. Of course by "saved food" they meant "being to full to eat" 3 chicken wings, 1 pizza roll, and a very large amount of spinach dip. I usually don’t like spinach dip—you can’t add enough cream to a vegetable to make it not suck—but due to me now sporting a blood sugar level low enough to be possessed by someone who weighs less than 215 lbs., I begin shoving it in my face with frightening force.
“Lay off me,” I yell at no one in particular, liking artichoke chunks out of my mustache. “I’m starving.”
8:38 P.M.-I crack a beer in an attempt to butch this endeavor up a bit.
8:42 P.M.-JoJo gets out of a limo wearing a gown that only covers her chesticles because the FCC made the show’s producers add a minimal amount of fabric to it in the limo. I didn’t see the ring that Ben purchased due to me being too poor to afford a car with a flat screen TV in the steering wheel, but it is being described to me by the rest of the group as a ‘Super Bowl Ring.’
Hilarious thought, what if we made the Super Bowl losers get down on one knee after the game and propose to the new World Champions? Cam Newton popping the question to Peyton Manning. Michael Oher having to ask for Von Miller's hand after he shredded what was left of that self-confidence Sandra Bullock gave him. The Broncos kicker getting a ring from Luke Kuechly and saying "fuck you, Robert Quinn should've been the 2013 NFL Defensive Player of the Year." This is the dumbest idea I have ever had. It also, in a much more real way, might be the most ingenious. But it also, in the realest way possible, is the dumbest.
8:46 P.M.-JoJo begins bearing her soul to Ben H. Several thoughts: 1-JoJo apparently never thought anyone could love her until she met a guy who knows between 12-14 words in the dictionary; 2-The women in this room are anywhere from pretty sure to damn sure that JoJo's boobs are not of the genuine variety. I personally have no idea what to think. They could be fake. They could be real. Question to me is: do they feel like a bag of sand?; 3-Ben's pants are too tight for any three dimensional person. I cannot, however, see any sort of outline of his ding dong. No wonder Caila didn't seem all that impressed at the women tell all; 4-What is going on in Ben's head while JoJo tells him about the super trying 24-years she spent without getting married, having children, and biologically going from super fertile to pre-menopause? Fractions maybe? Has he learned those yet?
8:48 P.M.-Ben lets JoJo down easy by telling her that he loves someone more than he loves her and that he only threw the "L" word in her direction because the producers made him. JoJo looks shocked. Wait...this show isn't real?!?!?! OK. That didn't happen. Ben let JoJo down by saying his feelings for her were real but then in the 3 days since he saw her he forgot she existed, then she came back and he saw her boobs and the decision became super hard. JoJo storms off. Ben looks to the sky and curses God, yelling "SHE GOT THEM THANGS!!!!"
8:51 P.M.-Ben calls Lauren B's father on his iPhone to ask for his blessing. Lauren B's father not only gives the blessing, but says something along the lines of "I have always wanted to hear these words from the man my daughter was going to marry." What kind of dad are you when you have always wanted to hear someone say (this is a paraphrase, OK ABC): "Hey man, I know I banged 3 girls less than a week ago and have made out with at least 22 different chicks in the past 8 weeks, but the 4 dates I took your daughter on were better than the 4 dates I took a girl with a pair of psychotic guido brothers and an alcoholic mom who drinks wine straight from the bottle on national TV on so...can we get hitched or what?"
Not the kind of dad who wins the "Father of the Year" Award from the American Diabetes Association. I can tell you that much.
8:58 P.M.-Ben awkwardly asks Lauren B to marry him, at one point explicitly mentioning how much he loves to "kiss her face." All I can think about is the rest of Lauren B's life, which will be spent with Ben Higgins actively licking her face like a dog that she is awkwardly attempting to squirm away from, just like the 95% of the women in the world who claim that "puppies are so cute" and yet never, ever want to be touched by one. Good luck Lauren B. If Ben is able to memorize your full last name, then you crazy kids just may have a shot.
9:31 P.M.-Ben and JoJo are sitting on a couch in front of a live studio audience filled with members of Bachelor Nation. Ben's pants actually fit. JoJo...yeah you know the deal with her by this point. The animosity has melted away, replaced by a kind of sweet admiration. Ben H didn't pick JoJo, but JoJo still won. JoJo, her full legal name I assume, is going to be the next Bachelorette.
I have lost interest. The exhilaration and the suspense are gone now, and as I sat on a friend's couch stuffing cake balls in my mouth and wondering if anyone will notice if I pick my nose and wipe my booger on the bottom of said friend's coffee table, I am hit with the finality of it. 20 seasons of The Bachelor have come and gone. For the next 2 months, until JoJo comes back, there is nothing for me to look forward to. I stand up and stretch out and prepare for the trek home. It's getting late.
And in the United States of America, unlike socialist Canada, we all have to go to work tomorrow.