The 2014 season’s The Bachelor finale was a major letdown. The studio audience assembled in LA while millions of Americans tuned in to watch the D-Day footage of Juan Pablo’s rocky season. Our reward? A clumsy dismissal, a flimsy rose offer, and the world’s most awkward love seat.
We were looking for love! Not lust and not like, but L-O-V-E. The world is filled with lust and ‘like people’ is what we do on Facebook. Relationships are built on love.
We confess our bizarre appetite for the inevitable drama of a show built around a 25:1 competitor to conquest ratio. Thankfully the throngs who flock to ABC’s Monday night franchise come for more than behind-the-scenes scandal and petty pandering.
We come for love. Our collective expectation is that the all exotic locales, evening gowns and beach parties equal up to at least one man and one woman falling in love. This is the minimum mathematical outcome from the mountains of dollars and hundreds of hours that go into this production.
Love was all we hoped to carry away from tonight. After all the group date mashups and conversational collisions, our sole reward would be that at least one woman was crowned a crown. Surely one out the twenty five contestants would wind up cherished, prized, put-on-a pedestal. We yearned for the knowledge that somewhere in the USA a guy and girl who met through the most unusual of matchmakers would say, “I love you” before kissing goodnight.
Unfortunately that’s not what we heard tonight. Don’t call that studio couch a love seat anymore. Maybe we should look elsewhere for love!