The Bachelor Season 21 Week 6 Recap and Live Blog

We will start tonight by watching Taylor bitch at Nick about choosing Corinne over her, a now-familiar experience since most of the world is bitching at us for choosing Donald Trump. Only after the spray-tanned dust has settled will we see a Rose Ceremony, during which we can wish there was just as easy a way to send Steve Bannon away crying in a limo.

Next we’d like to issue an Executive Order banning all single men from auditioning for The Bachelor, even if they come from states where no reality shows have ever been filmed.

As we await the opening notes of the Bachelor theme, which inspires more reflexive dread than Tubular Bells did in the 70’s, entertain yourself with this collection of Corinne’s Unfamiliar Quotations. Her comment from last week, “How do you make a voodoo doll . . . specific to a person?” is being asked today by Atlanta Falcons fans across the country.

The rest of the quotes sound like Kellyanne Conway overdosed on Nyquil while appearing on Hardball, although this one almost makes sense: “And I feel like I’m not being myself, but I’m trying really hard to be myself, but because I’m trying so hard to be myself, it’s making me even more not myself.” Spinoza couldn’t have said it better.

The gals see Taylor’s suitcase dragged off screen, and they gasp as one. They huddle on the sofa looking glum, most likely because they’re out of chardonnay. Now we see the footage of Taylor marching resolutely to interrupt the scene where Corinne and Nick don’t eat their meal. She tells Corinne tersely that she lied today, then asks to talk with Nick alone. Corinne remains behind sneeringly drinking champagne. “Why is she here?” she asks rhetorically, which is probably a word she didn’t know earlier in the script.

Taylor is there because she’s angry that Corinne mad Nick believe she’s a bully. She tells Nick “you must open your eyeballs” and see the truth, or at least an opthamologist. The fact is, Taylor is just a  badly written character. Simpering, Nick insists he appreciates her sincerity, and assures her that he does not believe she’s a bully. That and $4.50 will get you a Grande Mocha Frappuccino.

But he made his decision based on what’s in his heart, besides banality and lack of ambition, as well as that her bra size is too small. As she departs the set, he returns to Corinne. He reports that he told Taylor what he felt, since she already knew what his cast bio said. Corinne is gratified by this reasoned decision, and they make out.

Nick tells us that he sees potential in Corinne, and wants to explore that, as well as the area below her waist. Meanwhile, she thinks this is the real thing. Even her nanny is impressed enough to do his laundry along with hers.

It’s time for the Rose Ceremony. The gals talk of getting enough time with Nick, a phrase used more often than me while feeding a parking meter. Corinne, Danielle M., and Rachel are secure in their rose-having, so let’s hope this administration doesn’t deregulate that as well. Chris arrives to inform them that there will be no cocktail party because Nick already knows what he wants, or because they got a new sponsor to fill the time. The un-rosed girls are anxious. “I’m not ready to go home,” says Whitney, largely because she just had her floors refinished.

Nick arrives, wearing a suit that looks like something Ronald Reagan would choose after consulting his astrologist. He tells the group he woke up thinking of each and every relationship, as well as picturing each and every one of them naked. Kristina gets the first rose, followed by Raven and Vanessa. It’s always all these bodice-ripper names, never a Nancy or a Joan. Danielle L. is next, then Jasmine, until one rose remains. Whitney receives it.

Jaimi bids him a tearful goodbye. Alexis smiles through her pain, surmising that she couldn’t be vulnerable enough. Good thing dolphins are pretty stoic.

Nick tells the rest that they are going off to the island of what I thought was Baked Hummus, but no, it’s St. Thomas. To be fair, they’re both associated with sand. “Amazing beaches, beautiful water, and a nice atmosphere, ” Nick enthuses about the lush resort isle. The gals don their tightest cut-off shorts and least supportive bras to walk the shore, then race around the hotel suite with a glee reminiscent of  my dog visiting his favorite hydrant.

Kristina gets the first one-on-one date, her first one ever. She and Nick fly off in a sea plane, remarking on the beautiful water. It really must be beautiful. Nick is excited and curious to get to know Kristina, and see how doing so affects their relationship, which at this point is less substantive than an infomercial for Flex Seal.

Jasmine is in despair not to get the date. She feels overlooked and neglected, especially by all the Bachelor bloggers who confuse her with Rachel. Kristina reveals that she was adopted. She still has a sister back in Russia who is one of the few people that did not hack our election. Nick wants to know more about Kristina’s Russian heritage, hoping it’s more interesting than the Cliff Notes to Crime and Punishment.

Kristina and Nick have had a “nice and comfortable” date, although their conversation was more “awkward and stilted.” He asks her to talk more about her history. They didn’t have food growing up, she tells him, and her single mom threw her out when she was five. After that, she lived in an orphanage for years. This is more devastating than a Valerie Bertinelli Lifetime MOW. Then she came to America and got false eyelashes and orthodontia, just like Melania Trump. Nick finds her courage and fortitude inspiring, so he makes out with her while they dance.

Back at the hotel, the group date card arrives. Rachel, Raven, Vanessa, Corinne, Danielle M., and Jasmine are going. Danielle L. gets the two-on-one with Whitney. Coming up: A lot of bare skin.

Nick wants to maintain the momentum of their earlier meetings, during which they merely spoke in mindless platitudes and did not play beach sports. They go off on a big boat, where he shouts out questions about whether they prefer chocolate or vanilla, Christmas or Easter. The one who tells him she prefers quilted two-ply will prove they are meant for each other.

Now they play volleyball. Corinne abruptly leaves to drink some more, which is the first time I’ve felt she was relatable. The others resent how much attention Nick pays to her, especially when they’re all wearing equally tiny bikinis. Rachel outright refuses to compete for his interest, and Vanessa agrees. She’s been so patient, yet only got to make out with him a couple of times by now.

Nick worries that this plan for the date has backfired. He walks pensively along the beach, regretting the decision to devote time to tossing a ball back and forth over a net as a means to discover several women’s deepest hopes and dreams. It might have worked if any of them aspired to be gym teachers. He acknowledges that tonight is the time to repair the damage, mostly through liquor.

At the party, he asks Rachel to step away with him. She is falling for him, she admits, and wants to know if he feels the same, or at least like he might hire her for some legal work so this isn’t a total loss. He asks what she “thinks about,” but probably not when she’s at a professional conference. She doesn’t like group dates, she informs him, which is saying you don’t like carpal tunnel syndrome. She insists she’s only here for him, not the free vacations, and will always let him know her feelings. He is appreciative.

But in fact, all the women are bitching about what a lame show this is. They should read my tweets. Back at the room, Kristina, Whitney and Danielle L. discuss their stress levels, too. Nobody ever talks books or current events. By this point, they could talk about all the ways to  clean your microwave, and it would be more compelling.

Meanwhile , Jasmine grows ever more impatient that she has never had a one-on-one. She didn’t come to St. Thomas for the swimming, you know. She came to be engaged, dammit, and none of the crew can afford a Neil Lane ring. Nick returns and invites her to talk. She’s going to rip his head off like a praying mantis with PMS.

Jasmine shares that she wants what the other girls are feeling after spending time with Nick, which may include immunity to his inanity. She sees a future with him, but has not gotten reassurance of the potential for that. “I feel like I’m the realest thing in this,” she asserts, unaware that it’s like saying Sean Spicer is the most eloquent guy in the room. Nick understands, but ultimately gives up on Jasmine like I gave up on there ever being any decent movies available on Amazon Prime. The producer has indicated that it’s time to say goodbye.

He walks Jasmine to the car, where she carefully belts in. Wandering away to brood for probably the 68th time in three seasons, Nick worries that he’s going in the wrong direction with all these women, and wonders if this is working for him right now. Buck up, Nick! I understand it took three atomic bomb tests before they were sure it would decimate Hiroshima.

Corinne describes the day as an emotional roller-coaster, but some of that may have been her missing a dose of Lexapro. Raven got the rose, but Jasmine was sent home. Any perfume name could win now.

Nick is greeted for the next date by Whitney and Danielle L.. They board a helicopter and land on a remote beach, where a gauze-draped sofa sits incongruently at the water’s edge like a post-tsunami episode of Fixer-Upper.

Nick talks about how tough the week has been with all the free booze and luxury accommodations. All they ever talk about is how they feel right now, how hard it is to go through this, and their honesty and appreciation. Nick tells Danielle he felt a great connection the moment he met her, but as usual, never explains what that connection was. It’s like choosing a book to read because it’s not taller than the shelf you’ll keep it on.

Nick then comes over to Whitney, who’s waiting on the sofa, and lets her down gently, or at least blandly. Basically, she wants to win the show and he hasn’t decided if she’ll look good on the cover of People. He must send her home. They didn’t connect, although she was here for the right reasons. Whitney’s suitcase departs from the room with a slam of the door, and she is abandoned on the lonely beach as Danielle and Nick fly off in a storm of pebbles and sand.

The other girls wonder what the two-on-one meant, other than filling in a few minutes of extra taping time, as Nick and Danielle go on their evening date. He needs to get his relationship with her back on track, although I missed when it left the station in the first place. Meanwhile, she is grateful that he knew to send Whitney packing.  She thinks their connection is amazing, but also not why. She feels she may fall in love tonight, four minutes before dessert is served, to be precise.

Danielle marvels to Nick that it feels like it’s been months, not weeks, since they last shot a dinner scene together. They tell each other what they would like in a relationship, similar to how you draw up specs for a contracting job. Danielle is happy that they are on the same page right now. Falling in love is apparently like catching a cold: three days coming, three days staying, three days going.

Yet after these emotional revelations, Nick falls silent and won’t look her in the eyes. Maybe their connection got cut off. Turn her modem off and on.

She continues to babble about being on the same page and that the feelings are even stronger and how it’s scary and amazing. He gazes downward while she giggles nervously. Uh, oh. “It’s not a fun feeling,” Nick remarks about his failure to be on the same page, or even in the same library branch, as Danielle.

He can’t stop smirking because the man has Styrofoam peanuts  where his soul should be. Danielle seems mildly annoyed when he denies her the rose, while he grieves that he had so much optimism and so much hope for her. “Maybe it’s just me,” he muses, but I think it’s actually the producer.

Three girls went home this episode, which is unprecedented for this episode. Nick comes by to see the remaining ‘ettes, tears induced in his eyes by those drops they have on movie sets. He explains that this relationship fell flat, and he can’t figure it out. Neither can most qualified therapists. He wants this to be real and right, but right now he fears none of them will cut the mustard. He leaves, morose and beaten that no way will they let him star in another season. The girls are overcome with shock and anxiety. Wasn’t this in the script?

All you need to know about next week is that Corinne declares herself worthy of Nick because “my heart is gold, but my vah-jeen is platinum.” No wonder immigrants want to be in our country.


About E.M. Rosenberg 240 Articles
Favorite 40-volume series issued by Time-Life Music: Sounds of the Seventies. Favorite backsplash material: Subway tile. Favorite screen legend I pretend wasn’t gay: Cary Grant. Favorite issue you should not even get me started about: Venal, bloodsucking insurance industry. Favorite character from the comic strip “Nancy”: Sluggo, or maybe Rollo. Favorite Little Debbie snack: Nutty Bars. Favorite Monkee: Mike.