The Bachelorette, The Apocalypse, and How I Know The End Times are Here
When T and I first met I warned him upfront about my addiction to TV and all things pop culture. He underestimated my issues; certainly, as a normal person likely can’t fathom the hours I spend with my television friends or reading gossip magazines. We are never alone in the car thanks to ever present FM 107 droning in the background (I’ll admit, Lori and Julia occasionally interrupt our deep conversations with their Lindsey Lohan commentary or Sex Monday tips).
Over the years T has cajoled and complained, and finally, settled in beside me on the couch (and programmed all of our radios to my station of choice). It started midseason of Top Chef 1, and steadily he added other viewings to his repertoire. I knew he had fallen for me when he could name the characters and their relationships on All My Children.
But of all the pop and trash I consume, at least I have my standards. I never thought T would surpass me as the Junkyard Ruler. Until The Bachelorette entered his life. Now, T has Ally and her entourage. I am simply a bystander, unable to look away at the 2 hour train wreck that has become our Monday nights.
If ever there was a sign that the End Times are near, T’s compulsion to watch The Bachelorette is it. I can only blame myself. It appears that this addiction is catchy.
To make last night’s episode bearable I suggested we make up a drinking game to play along with the drama. “We could drink every time Ally or one of the guys says ‘like,’” I suggested, referring to their collective inability to string five words together without interjecting the word like.
T answered, “We’d run out of alcohol.”
I countered “We could drink every time I mutter, ‘God her roots are terrible.’”
Then T said something that surely brought about the Apocalypse. “All I really want now is to hear Lori and Julia’s take tomorrow.” T paused, reflecting on what just came out of his mouth. “Oh. The circle is complete. I am on the dark side.”
Over the years T has cajoled and complained, and finally, settled in beside me on the couch (and programmed all of our radios to my station of choice). It started midseason of Top Chef 1, and steadily he added other viewings to his repertoire. I knew he had fallen for me when he could name the characters and their relationships on All My Children.
But of all the pop and trash I consume, at least I have my standards. I never thought T would surpass me as the Junkyard Ruler. Until The Bachelorette entered his life. Now, T has Ally and her entourage. I am simply a bystander, unable to look away at the 2 hour train wreck that has become our Monday nights.
If ever there was a sign that the End Times are near, T’s compulsion to watch The Bachelorette is it. I can only blame myself. It appears that this addiction is catchy.
To make last night’s episode bearable I suggested we make up a drinking game to play along with the drama. “We could drink every time Ally or one of the guys says ‘like,’” I suggested, referring to their collective inability to string five words together without interjecting the word like.
T answered, “We’d run out of alcohol.”
I countered “We could drink every time I mutter, ‘God her roots are terrible.’”
Then T said something that surely brought about the Apocalypse. “All I really want now is to hear Lori and Julia’s take tomorrow.” T paused, reflecting on what just came out of his mouth. “Oh. The circle is complete. I am on the dark side.”
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