Being The Bachelorette Is The Toughest Job There Is

The Bachelorette has now been on for ten glorious (?) seasons. Let's give it a round of applause everyone. Confession time: I have never watched an episode prior to this, and my only real knowledge of the franchise comes from being a youth in the Trista and Ryan era and the existence of Burning Love. So I really had no idea what to expect going into this.

But now I think I love it?

It's weird, because usually you can call me Mila Kunis because I'm so j-j-jaded, but so far, this is not the worst show I've ever seen.

Andi Dorfman, who I've been informed by the Internet voluntarily left last season of The Bachelor, is a 27-year-old assistant district attorney from Atlanta. Well, she was an assistant district attorney. The first rule of The Bachelorette is apparently "Quit your career!" The Internet also informed me that the shooting schedule for this show is only like a month, so she quit a job she loves (I mean, it's no being famous, but I know it's got its perks—I've watched a David E. Kelley show before) for apparently no reason. Ok, she has a reason, but "I don't need [love], but I want it enough to go get it" is a pretty terrible reason, don't you think?

So after she uproots her whole life (?), it is time for LOS ANGELES, BABY. There's a trying on clothes montage, which makes me wonder why no one ever tried to get me to watch this show, and oh so many sound bites. "Falling in love should be fun!" "It's my time to fall in love!" "I can see the end because I am finally starting my beginning." "I'm not here to make friends, I'm here to win." That last one didn't happen—not yet anyway—but there is a non-religious, introspective walk on the beach to take us home. Also: "I don't know what I did to deserve 25 men to want to fly across the country and meet me." I do! You became the star of your own television show. That is 100 percent it.

Then it's time to meet the guys, and as I did expect, the majority of them are super nondescript white guys. Finally something that makes sense to me. There's JJ, the "pantsapreneur" and a full-on Monet, who says things like "giddy" and "love quest," and he and I are to be enemies. Or maybe something more? It's all very confusing to me. There's Cody, who looks like the baby of Macklemore and WWE Superstar Ryback, which means the fact that he makes it through the night absolutely absurd to me. There is Steven, who is "stoked to be here" and I'm fairly certain I swiped right on Tinder awhile back. There are at least two long-haired (well, near shoulder-length) blond dudes who look like they're fighting for a spot on a Quaker Oats box.

I'm not even going to mention all 25, and this is still too many men.

Brett the hairstylist brings her a lamp he stole from the hotel, and like, what? Don't do that. Craig "the partier" is most definitely an alcoholic, so I picked a good season to watch. Josh B. is a "telecommunication marketer," and from now on, I'll only refer to my day job as that. Andrew reminds me of Frank from The Challenge, so we most definitely are enemies.

Also, it doesn't look like any of these men quit their jobs, most likely because of the patriarchy. Actually, Josh M. may have, since he's 29 and somehow already a former pro baseball player. "Sorry, baseball! Gotta find love on national TV!" That was my impression of Josh M.

That reminds me, this season of The Bachelorette is actually dedicated to contestant Eric Hill, who passed away shortly after shooting the show. It casts a dark cloud over the episode, especially whenever they talk about his Indiana Jones-esque lifestyle. Had this not been the case, I'd be all for him winning, since he's the only guy I actually find myself thinking Andi (or anyone, really) would need to lock down. He most definitely is attractive.

Once in the house, it is time to get right down to it. Andi continues to do that thing where she makes me like her—"Such a tough job, deciphering who's hotter. Why me?"—then makes me worry about her entire "situation"— "I do sushi seven days a week." I mean, I love sushi, but that is definitely not healthy. Just ask Jeremy Piven.

Marquel—who's sharp dressed, good-looking, and unfortunately, short—decides a cookie tasting is the way to Andi's heart and not a stomach ache. There's an awkward black and white cookie pushing moment, and I LOVE IT. Somehow, Andi is into it, and not for the reasons I am, so I don't even know her anymore. Later (or earlier, thanks to reality show editing), Andi bonds with Nick V. over his sincerity and modesty, and I suppose any guy who I merely describe in my notes as "nah" should have at least those two things if they're going to want to stick out. No wonder Andi gives him the "First Impression Rose," which is a thing. This show is full of teaching moments for me.

Speaking of sticking out and also first impressions, some dude from a previously season of The Bachelorette and Bachelor Pad named Fame Whore (or maybe Chris Bukowksi) shows up at crafty suited up to get in there and show Andi what a real man is. Apparently he was there for a week, waiting for shooting to start (uh huh) so he could come in and be like, "Andi, let's be in love." I mean, I assume that was his game plan. It's all rather creepy, and the fact that Chris Harrison asks Andi if she wants to let him in (and we get those talking heads of how she wouldn't want to turn the potential love of her life away, like, girl quit playin') is just… no. Fame Whore is sent away, and the season can continue to go on with a hitch.

See what I did there? Somebody turn on that lamp, because that was illuminating.

I'm sorry.

Andi may have just lost the love of her life (haha), but you know who may have found theirs? Andrew and Patrick (an advertising exec from the O.C. who most definitely thinks he's a Don Draper, but might actually be a Patrick Bateman). They start going on about racing cars, as you do, then their talking heads are essentially about how they are the only equals in the house, and before you know it, they're talking to each other like they're the only ones in the room (they're not) and would totally get some close-talking on if no one else were there. This is the couple I'm rooting for this season, and if it happens, I'm going to cry, because it's proof love isn't dead.

But dreams of love are dead for some of these bachelors. Wait, are they even called "bachelors" on this show since they aren't THE bachelor? I'm going to call them floozies. Say buh bye to the long-hair blonds, one of which tells Andi he hopes she finds what she's looking for. The other one says he's "not going back to a whole lot," and I really hope someone checks on him. Farewell to Rudie the attorney, who walks out of all of lives like an alien robot trying to walk like a human, and Emil, the one with the name pronounced like "Anal"... but with an "m." I kind of wanted Steven to get a rose, but then that would mean Andi would continue to refer to California as "Cali," so I got over that immediately.

Then there's elimination of Josh B., who definitely fits the stereotype of "Nice Guy." He complains about now not being able to find a wife, then five seconds later says he only even did the show because a friend put him up to it. Then he's bleeped out a lot because Andi turned him into a joke. Dude, you're a telemarketer. That's your career. Take it from someone else who's a telemarketer—you're not a catch. Wait. What I'm saying is, his tantrum isn't flattering, and there's probably something wrong with you if you're eliminated and lamp guy isn't. See you on Bachelor Pad, guy.

What an eventful season premiere, am I right? No, seriously—am I right? I honestly have no idea what to compare this to.

[Image via ABC]

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