The Official Bachelorette Blog of Trump's America // Week Nine

Welcome back to my coverage of The Bachelorette, the only show that hates walls as much as those dirty liberals.

Last night’s episode was very confusing, or maybe that was due to the full bottle of wine I consumed by myself throughout its duration. My alcohol metabolism, unlike my Cheez-It metabolism, is fast as shit though, so I don’t think that was the problem.

The first half of the show was dedicated to meeting Rachel’s parents, minus her father, who shan’t be “had” by this exploitative franchise. Good for him. I hope he spent the day alone at a couples resort recording VHS tapes of important life lessons to give to his grandchildren to watch after his death.

Because Rachel’s sister was pregnant, the family wasn’t able to travel, so the men were placed together in a tiny hotel room in Dallas for three days instead. Each day, one man was allowed out of his cell to mingle with Rachel’s fam. I hope many a circle jerk was had.

Peter was first. His main weakness is that he doesn’t want to propose to someone he’s only known for a month and has never been sober with. Rachel’s mom liked that about him.

Eric was second. His main weakness is that he’s never been in love and seems like he’s on this show for the free snacks. I spent the ten minutes he was onscreen with Rachel’s family complaining to my roommate about my life so I can offer no details re: whether or not he was welcomed.

Bryan, or Bryan the Sociopath, was third. Bryan’s main weakness is that he would throw his own baby over a waterfall if his mom didn’t like it. Bryan is probably here to pursue his dreams of being a penis model. Rachel’s mom didn’t like him.

The main takeaway from the 60 minutes we spent watching Rachel’s family humor her journey to find love is that none of them have imbibed the kool-aid. To them, their daughter is on a reality show that will starkly increase her means to make money, at least for some time. The show is not about love. It’s about entertainment and #sponsored content.  


Rachel flies her brother husbands to some European country where, once again, they are locked into a festering apartment and permitted to leave only when Rachel shows up at the door and arbitrarily points at one of them.

You’d love her too, wouldn’t you?

At this point, to be perfectly honest, things get blurry. My notes, which are the only means by which I remember names, faces, and skin colors (I don’t see race), were accidentally deleted last night. I know that I had a bevy of brilliant observations to share about the progress Rachel makes in every relationship, but they’ve been sadly lost to the mines of Microsoft Word.

Eric gets the first European date, and at this point, it’s pretty clear that he’s here to have fun. Nobody deserves to go on Bachelor in Paradise more than Eric does. Rachel would be cruel to give him the final rose and deny him the opportunity to visit the Mexican beach that will forever be ruined for me by Corinne Olympios’ sexual abuse allegations.

Eric tells Rachel he loves her at dinner, post-helicopter ride, and Rachel doesn’t believe him, which is fine because they still have a fantasy suite sleepover, which is the only thing either of them want from each other anyway.

Then, Peter and Rachel go to a wine vineyard where an old Spanish man speaks Spanish to them, and Rachel is like, “I feel like what he’s saying is that this vineyard was built on love” even though she doesn’t speak Spanish but, sure, yeah, I guess that’s kind of what he was saying.

The old Spanish man gives the couple a key to their very own wine locker so that they will always have wine to drink when they happen to both be in this tiny, obscure part of Spain together. They take a bottle of wine and go outside to drink it while Peter tells Rachel he wants to see what it’s like to be sober with her before committing to her for his entire life and Rachel is like “UM” but then they’re interrupted by the little girl from The Ring who gives Rachel a flower and requests her presence at the wine-stomping ceremony.

So Rachel and Peter put their life discussion on hold to go stomp on wine with a four-year-old, BUT they resume their conversation later that night over yet MORE wine. The conversation, from what I remember, goes a little something like this:

Peter: To me, proposing is like marriage. And I’m not ready for marriage.

Rachel: You really don’t understand how this show works, do you? We get fake-engaged and then we make a shit ton of money on Dancing With The Stars. IT’S NOT THAT COMPLICATED PETER!

Peter: Yes, but I’ve been told to lean into conflict to create the kind of compelling narrative the show needs to up its ratings. Don’t worry, I’m totally going to propose to you at the end of this; I’m not an idiot.

Rachel: Okay, but I’m definitely fucking Bryan before committing to you on television.  

Peter: Same.

Then she cries.

Join us next week to find out Rachel’s dad’s six tips to a better body.


Becky Scott is a Brooklyn-based writer who enjoys buffalo wings and writing journalistic longform pieces on The Bachelor. 

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