The Bachelor — Season 19 — Live Recap, Episode 2

But do not despair. There’s good news with the report that Chris Soules, aka the Marquis of Milking, Tsar of Threshing, and Archduke of Agriculture, is considering joining the cast of Dancing with the Stars following his Bachelor stint. It may mean missing another harvest, and definitely means he’s completely sold out, but Chris says, “I’m going to do what’s best for me and do what’s right and what I feel is right for my future.” Certainly wearing sequins to perform the paso doble for a six-figure check would be the right thing for anyone who usually grows corn for a living.

Tonight we get the first dates, but first we get the first recaps of the season of the first episode. Then we finally get to see what happens with dumped Kimberly, who returned defiantly from her dumping to confront Chris. This concerns all the other bachelorettes, since one more on top of the 24 or so other women still left poses a significant threat.

She and Chris go outside. She tells him she didn’t get a chance to talk with him, and tearfully insists she can’t leave that easily. Chris looks forlorn. It’s all so hard for him, sorting through all these hot chicks begging for his attention. He goes to consult Host Chris, who says he can let her stay if he wants. “There are no rules,” Host Chris explains, particularly when market research indicates that audiences like these kinds of unexpected developments, especially after 18 seasons of the same drivel.

Chris brings Kimberly back into the room. He tells the other women that since she had the nerve to come back, she deserves another chance to try for him. She’s the Rosa Parks of The Bachelor.

Chris and Chris once again review in general how wonderful it is for Bachelor Chris to have all these gorgeous, amazing women to date. They’ll discuss which ones he most wants to shtup in private over beers with the crew.  Bachelor Chris will only know who he’s looking for when he finds her, or when he compares her bust measurements to the others. He tells us he gets goosebumps thinking about it all, although something else on his body is raised, too.

Chris the Host tells the women that Chris is living just down the driveway from them. If they change from their five-inch heels into sneakers, they can actually reach the location on foot. They squeal with delight. “Create time, find time” to be with him, Chris the Host urges. What else is taking up their time during the day, charity work? He leaves them with the group-date card, and there’s more squealing. It’s okay since Chris the Bachelor is used to that sound from the farm.

Jane, Tandra, Ashley I., Mackenzie, Kimberly, and Tara are going on the date. Some of the women are bitter that Kimberly scored one of these coveted spots, but longtime viewers recognize that it’s a precursor to her being dumped again this week. The same thing always happens when one of the eliminated chefs gets sent back on Food Network Star.

The date has everyone parading around in short-shorts on their way to some building in L.A. They act all curious about where they’re going, even though they’re wearing their bikinis underneath their clothes. It’s a pool party! I suppose it could have been a tanning salon, but it’s not like any of them need that.

“This is like a dream,” Chris declares as they all strip to their swimsuits.

After they prance around in the pool, the women carefully keeping their hair and make-up out of the water, he gives Kimberly her second chance. He offers to recreate their first meeting by re-entering the area and saying hello. The man is like something out of Noel Coward.

Back at the house, some of the women sneak over to Chris’s house, as much as you can sneak with cameras tracking you. They come upon his motorcycle, to great cries. One girl tries on his helmet and rams her head into the wall to test it. Clearly she needed one before today.

After the pool party, the still-bikinied women march through the city with Chris to come upon some tractors. They will have a race, because that represents “country,” or at least the country where they filmed Dukes of Hazzard. Chris repeats that he’s lucky. Every red-blooded American man yearns to watch half a dozen girls in bikinis drive tractors down a deserted boulevard at 15 miles an hour. Chris must have some pretty boring porn in his collection.

He starts the race, which is unimpressive unless you enjoy farm equipment product placement. Did the producers close off a street and prevent tax-paying citizens from parking for this segment? Ashley I. takes the win, the prize for which is apparently just some alone-time with Chris. The bachelorettes really get the short end of the stick on this show.

Back at the house, Juelia discusses her daughter’s father. Her husband committed suicide when the little girl was a baby. Stop that, Bachelor; actual tragedy is not permitted in the midst of your perpetual inanity. Juelia weeps as the other women comfort her and admire her bravery for being there, although that seems less like bravery than tastelessness. Juelia worries about how to tell Chris about her traumatic circumstances. Couldn’t she just show him this footage? She’s open, however, to falling in love with him, and hoping he isn’t killed in a horrible combine accident.

The group-date women gaze upon the rose while enjoying snacks on a set borrowed from Hee Haw. Chris’s farm doesn’t even have that many hay bales, kerosene lanterns, and wagon wheels. He arrives to ask out Mackenzie for the one-on-one this evening. Although she is in her early twenties, she looks and behaves like she’s in high school, which may explain why she named her child after something found in the produce aisle.

The other women praise Chris for being fair and sweet. Their catty ugliness still needs to time to develop properly. Ashley, though, is crestfallen. She feels gypped after what she believes was a productive 15 minutes talking with Chris while sitting on a tractor in the middle of the street. She should have grabbed his crotch in the pool like Mackenzie did.

Chris says Mackenzie has “a great energy” and is “totally cute.” She calls herself “super observant,” although she appears to have overlooked the fact that kale is not supposed to be a person’s name. She tells Chris she likes big noses like his–apparently, there are no Jews in her part of the country–and asks if he believes in aliens. He is a little put off by her weirdness, which is promising since he seems fine with himself looking like an agrarian Humbert Humbert. Wait until he hears that Kale is the result of an alien abduction.

While the other women conjecture about how Mackenzie will address the fact that she should be appearing on 16 and Pregnant, the young mother mentions to Chris that she hasn’t dated for about a year. But has not yet mentioned her child. She intimates that she has troubling information to reveal. “It’s scary for me to tell you. I have a kid,” she finally admits, as though her child were a prosthetic limb. She also proudly reports that she worked until she gave birth, since most pregnant women take to their beds moments after the little plus sign appears on the test stick.

“Tough girl,” Chris says appreciatively, contentedly picturing her slopping the hogs in her third trimester carrying Chris, Jr. Once the cat is out of the bag, though, she can’t stop babbling about Kale. Chris starts uttering robotic compliments, although he claims her passion about the little boy is attractive. “I do admire you for going through with that,” he says, referring to. . .what? Not having an abortion? Enduring labor? Naming the kid Kale despite all the funny looks she gets? She if offered the rose. She exclaims that Chris is “everything I want in a father figure.” Please let her mean for her son.

Megan, a make-up artist, gets the next one-on-date, announced with a date card at the house. She does not understand what the typical note Chris the Host delivers indicates. Has she never watched the show? Or has she been written to be flighty and confused?

Mackenzie reviews her date for the other women. “I kissed him, like, five times,” she reports confidingly. Then she passes a note to Susie in homeroom about it. Chris arrives to whisk Megan off on their date. She made a good first impression, Chris tells us, or at least her cleavage did. They board a private plane and drink champagne as we wonder what a make-up artist could do in Iowa, or if make-up is even available there. They transfer to a helicopter.

“This is definitely the coolest thing I’ve ever done,” Megan breathes as they swoop over the Grand Canyon and land inside. Chris tells her she has the most beautiful blue eyes in North America. One of his cows has the most beautiful brown eyes in North America.

As they cuddle on a blanket and gaze out upon the nation’s most treasured natural monument, Megan reinforces reality television’s most treasured national shtick. She tells Chris that her dad had a massive heart attack and died, a brain-dead shell of his former vital self, right before she was scheduled to leave for the show. But Megan’s mom said to follow her heart and go, despite her beloved father’s tragic unexpected death. Chris is moved by her commitment to being a famewhore. They kiss tenderly. Even the Hoover Dam can’t contain this much maudlin slop.

Chris can’t stop smiling as he shares time with Megan in the spectacular canyon with the crew and the cameras. There is something there, and he wants to continue to pursue it. Too bad she doesn’t realize it’s between her legs. He presents her with the rose. She has never been this happy her entire life, even without a contract.

The next group date is huge, eleven women, and the cryptic note about it ends with “til death do us part.” Maybe they’re going to a memorial service for Megan’s father. The cars approach a darkened, spooky site. The women are frightened. Mysterious figures emerge and make the women scream. Oh, it’s Chris. If it had been Juan Pablo, the screaming would  have been perfectly justified. He hugs everyone to comfort them and cop a feel. They’re going to kill zombies with paintball guns for their date. What could be more romantic, or a better way to get to know someone.

Ashley S., the one who seems either drunk or the victim of head trauma all the time, wants to shoot the other women. They patiently explain how the game works. The show saves a lot of money on lighting designers for the evening as they run around shooting at the zombies, screaming, and squealing. Chris thinks it’s sexy to watch them all firing guns. No, he’s not gay; he’s from Iowa.

Once all the zombies are dispatched, it’s time to pop the champagne and be nervous about the rose. Back at the house, the gals apply face masks and slog back liquor. Jordan is drunk again. She could start a moonshine business back in Iowa.

(Adding insult to injury, we are next presented with an ad for Poise incontinence pads, followed by one for anti-depression medication.)

The women on the date make fun of Ashley’s mental illness some more before Chris goes off with Kaitlyn. He can’t understand why such a prize doesn’t have a boyfriend. Maybe she’s also a farmer from Iowa. She did have one, she explains, but he moved to Germany and she didn’t want to live there. But she’s willing to live in Iowa? They don’t even speak English as well there.

Ashley continues to act addled. Chris marvels that he has never met anyone like her in his whole life, largely because in his region, the feeble-minded are shut away in attics. As he’s doing his talking head, she approaches and babbles some more. Chris diplomatically calls her “unique,” while everyone else pegs her as crazy. And you know what they say, Chris: Never stick your pitchfork in crazy.

Off he goes with Britt the Virgin, who looks like an Osmond. She’s not worried; everything will work out, she tells him. Sure, there are probably plenty of Osmond cousins who are still single. Chris gives her a gift of a free kiss. Yeah, that’s a gift for her. He says it seems perfect at this point with her, which is what he said about Megan. Those clients of his with the farmland investments might want to reevaluate his services.

Time to present the rose. He will trust his gut, he says, since his copy of the Farmers Almanac is back in Iowa. He gives the rose to Germany-hating Kaitlyn.

And now the cocktail party. The girls review who has roses, calculating their chances to remain in the running. Chris arrives and announces how amazing the week has been. Really, no manure shoveling at all. He wants to spend time with more girls now, and starts with Whitney, she of the helium voice. She gives him a bottle of his favorite booze. He must drink it to drown out the sound of her voice.

Three women discuss how much guys like “taking your virginity,” and how the girls who can offer that option have an advantage. Ashley I. is delighted. She can’t wait to tell Chris she has never had sex, especially since he is now the only person in America who doesn’t yet know.

She shows him the piercing in her belly-button, and tells him to make a wish on it. His wish is to kiss her, or at least his family-hour wish is, but she says he must first rub the piercing for it to be granted. For a virgin, she certainly knows how to act like she’s experienced. She must have Showtime. The other virgin feels like Chris is her boyfriend, and seeing Ashley climb him like jungle gym concerns her.

Next he makes out with Amber. Jordan, the eternally drunk, is upset about it. “I feel infatuated by Chris,” she slurs. She interrupts him with another girl, searchingly asking if lipstick gets all over him with this constant slobbering over so many women. It’s actually a very good question.

Chris the Host arrives to remove Chris the Bachelor for consultation. Chris the Bachelor wishes he had more “clarity” at this point, but he’ll see them all at the Rose Ceremony. “Oh, God,” murmurs Jordan despairingly. Where is your God now?

“The girls are just awesome,” Chris murmurs to Chris, in a moment when they needed some filler footage. Addressing the women, he says, “I can see my wife in this room,” forgetting that he saw her in Andi just a few months ago. The rose-distribution begins with Britt getting the first one. Following is the second virgin, Ashley I., then Trina and Kelsey. Samantha is next, then Juelia is called–but Jillian steps forward and falls over the carpet. They might want to look into watering down the liquor over there. Amber follows, then Tracy, and then Jillian does get a rose. After that is Jade, then Nikki, then Becca, and then who? Enunciate, Chris. He garbles the next name, too, or else I can’t make out the difference between Tandra and Tara after hearing Tracy and Trina. Then it’s the final rose. It goes to Ashley S. Chris likes that wacko.

The embittered failures cry self-hating tears. The re-ditched Kimberly feels like she’s meant to have a family of her own, and would prefer for it to be arranged via television. Jordan, miserable in her grief, tells us she is never anybody’s number one, except Jack Daniels’. Not being picked will haunt her for the rest of her life. It’ll also haunt her bank account.

Next week, sinister music introduces a nighttime visit from Jimmy Kimmel. It would be pretty frightening to wake up to his face.