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Ladies, is this guy worth your dignity?
I believe it was late singer/owner of the world’s most fabulous blow-out Jermaine Stewart who said in his seminal “We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off” - ”So come on baby, won’t you show some class? Why you wanna move so fast?”
It is in the memory of Jermaine and his hair that I dedicate this to the toned, tanned datetestants of the new season of “The Bachelor”: “Oh, come on ladies, won’t you show some class? On TV drunk off of your…”
Well, you get it.
Just wish these grown women who come looking for a modeling career, umm.. a future reality show …wait,a story to relate back to the Mothership love got it too. Which is that you have less chance finding true love on a game show stocked with booze, jealousy and crazy wenches as you do finding a parking space at the gym on January 2.
I did some stupid things to find love in my 20s and 30s – it was literally in the papers. Once or twice it certainly involved tipsy declarations of love or attraction while trying to stand up. But the one thing I never did was let somebody tape me being drunk and declarative and put it on TV. That I know of. Certainly no releases were signed saying “Please, record me being a crazy drunken obsessive cow.” Any tapes of me being a drunken obsessive cow were recorded without my permission. And if there are some out there – I swear, there couldn’t be many but it only takes one.
Besides the obvious issues of voluntarily appearing as the most ridiculous, pathetic version of yourself, when you have to go back to your life with your same friends, and your same face and name, with everyone knowing what a jerk you made of yourself, let me give you beautiful, tiny, coiffed young things some advice. (In my day I would say I want to drop some knowledge on you, but then saying that without irony would make me seem even older.)
You cannot, as one of the sad sisters on the show said, plan to come on a TV game show and fall in love with some stranger who only know from watching him on TV being dumped by some other sad sister. I mean, you can plan it all you want. But there is absolutely no guarantee that this will happen, apparently when you’re basically one out of a live mail order bride collection, a zoo where a guy can pick whichever drunken exotic creature happens to fall out of her cage in front of him. As D.L. Hughley once said about bill collectors, you can expect payment any time you want. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna get it.
I looked for love in all the wrong places, in the right places at the wrong time, and in some places in some circuses with clowns whose existence I disavow all knowledge of, just like in “Mission Impossible” but with cocktails and desperation. And when I found it, all I was looking for was a drink with a high school classmate I hadn’t seen in 20 years. It just found me, unexpectedly and crazily, at maybe the one moment I wasn’t looking for it. (Of course, I was in my late 30s, with no interest in applying for a dating game show – and very few of these shows seemed to be looking for not-skinny middle-aged black women, so it wasn’t probably a career option.)
All that I’m saying is that if you’re really looking for love up in there, it’s probably not gonna happen for you. And if you’re looking for a career as a professional reality show contestant, then you’re still competing in a sea of crazy. And to be the next “Bachelorette,” you have to actually get close enough to develop real feelings for the guy and get your heart dented, if not broken when you gets dumped. Is this really why you or your folks paid for grad school? Is this really how your young kids want their mom to be seen? CAN YOU LOOK YOUR GRANDMA IN THE FACE? (Or, in the case of the woman who actually brought her Grandma with her, would she be proud of having been publicly associated with you?)
All in all, you don’t have to take your dignity off to have a good time. Jermaine and his hair told me to tell you.
