Aaron said he didn’t have any clarity. Perhaps that had something to do with how drunk he appeared during two of his three dates. The nose was a lovely shade of blush with Helene in Aspen and his whole face was beet red with Gwen in San Francisco. I chuckled as he struggled to open the envelope containing a key to the love shack but instead handed it to Gwen, “here you read it,” he slurred.
He knew exactly what it said having opened and read an identical note on the last date, but certainly he’s bright enough to recognize he was in no shape to read anything on national television.
In all fairness, I’ve found him to be much more likeable than my first impression, as expressed here on the site. Marc and I sat and speculated that Gwen, whose femininity we question, was the least compatible with our fine bachelor. What does a 31 year-old divorcee want with a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed 28 year-old anyway? Surprisingly he once again made what I saw as the best choice. And so Gwen headed home. Someone better suited awaits her, I’m hopeful.
But no wonder this round of elimination was so challenging for Aaron — the dates were among the blandest I’ve ever seen. Given the choice of any of the three activities shown on tonight’s episode, I’d pick a night at home with the cats and a pizza anytime. I’m fairly sure that his pleas for an extra five minutes with each lady was arranged by the producer in order to fill the hour long show which was shockingly devoid of content. Especially given the “intimate” nature of these overnight dates. It reminded me that this is not so much a reality show, but more a game show. And sometimes, the host needs to fill up some time. Weakest Link style.
At least Chris, the show’s *ahem* fine host doesn’t say, “you’ve been voted out of the mansion, please extinguish your torch, which here in malibu represents your desireability and potential for marriage with a rich 28 year-old.”
And only a week to wait for the reunion show where we see Christi scream, “I’ve NEVER boiled a bunny!!” THIS is quality programming, folks.
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