An angry redhead steals the show during Wednesday night’s premiere of The Bachelor, melting down in a paranoid spiral before picking a fight with a girl eating a service station sandwich.
The party bus is en route. Osher has arrived early to Glen 20 the dank old mansion and rinse out those tacky red champagne flutes.
Locky is our man of the hour. Sure, he conquered Survivor. The starvation and physical challenges must’ve been tough. But The Bachelor is a different beast. Here, you have to subsist on supermarket cheese and boxed wine while trying not to get ravaged by two dozen vicious ladies.
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We watch footage of Locky doing various action sports – jumping out of planes and cycling along the crest of a mountain range at dawn.
It’s meant to make him look sexy but, honestly, it’s just a turn-off. Dating someone who likes extreme sports is the worst. You can kiss your weekends goodbye because all they want to do is kayak and hike and jump off of things. The only acceptable physical activity on weekends is walking around Westfield.
“Living life on the edge is amazing,” he gushes.
I dunno, Locky. Have you ever eaten an entire pizza off your chest in bed and chased it with a family block of Caramilk chocolate before falling asleep with the lights on? The heart races when you wake up in fright at 4am, wondering what day it is.
The party bus pulls up and the first chick to roll down the garden path goes and steals my signature pick-up line.
“Burritos are my favourite food,” she declares.
The reason this is my signature pick-up line is it always leads to compelling and enlightened conversation. After Steph declares her undying love for burritos, they instantly fall into an electric back-and-forth discussion. Honestly, the dialogue is like something out of an Aaron Sorkin series.
Locky: “What meat do ya get?”
Steph: “Beef. Extra jalapeño.”
Locky: “I can’t do spicy.”
Steph: “At least tell me you get chipotle sauce?”
Locky: “I get basilo.”
This chick arrives and I have the exact same outfit. I wear it to all funerals and the occasional business meeting.
It’s around now the rap beats start and those of us who are veteran viewers of this esteemed series know that means one thing: Bad girl alert!
“I’ll show him the boss that I am,” Areeba informs us as we watch footage off her walking around town in a power suit.
“I’m a boss at work. I’m a boss at home. And I’m a boss with my relationships,” she says as vision plays of her sitting at the receptionist desk of her admin job.
Every year during the premiere episode of this show, we can always pick one of the girls who’ll end up in the finale. They just have that special quality. A spark. That … je ne sais quoi, if you will. This year, it’s penguin girl.
“I love penguins, they’re my favourite animal!” she gushes to Locky. “I have penguin pens, I have penguin stuffed toys, I have penguin pyjamas. I have literally a cup that’s in the shape of the penguin from Madagascar and it has a little straw in it and whenever I go out and have alcohol I need to have it – it’s my party cup.”
Well, we hope she brought that penguin cup with her to the mansion because it sounds much classier than the tacky red champaign flutes.
The rap beats start again and a slinky electric guitar riff plays. Bad girl alert! Bad girl alert!
“I’m a loud, blunt and fiery redhead,” Zoe Claire cuts straight to the point.
She meets Locky and immediately articulates her feelings with the poetic nuance of a John Keats poem.
“I got fanny flutters,” she declares.
We then meet Laura – a self-described snob – and it appears producers have recruited my long lost twin.
“Bali’s gross,” she spits when she finds out Locky runs an extreme sports business in the bogan capital.
Putting aside all jokes about Bali and extreme sports, they’re clearly Locky’s passions and it’s a really beautiful thing. It’s special when you find your passion. Locky loves the outdoors and living life to the fullest. And Charley can relate.
“I love my eyebrows,” she beams.
Inside the mansion, Osher has invented a new rule this year and pulls out what he calls a triple threat rose. The person who secures it will get triple the time with Locky and some other crap. Just once, I’d love if the weird new surprise rose offered a decent prize – like those Danoz Direct steak knives that can cut through a Coke can.
The self-described ranga drags Locky away for a chat and then the self-described boss lady goes and interrupts. What unfolds is a fight to the death that not even David Attenborough has the vocabulary to narrate.
“You’re a moll. You’re a f**king moll!” the redhead fumes after being shoved off. “It was disrespectful to me as a woman.”
Of course, this is all said privately to us in a piece-to-camera. She’s doing that thing you do where you act out an argument by yourself, usually in the car or the shower.
A minute passes and she’s still outraged. The risk with acting out arguments by yourself is it’s hard to differentiate between what’s actually happened in real life and what you’ve just imagined in your head.
Exhibit A:
“I’m a redhead and she targeted me because of the colour of my hair,” she spits. “It’s not appropriate. I can’t win. I’m not blonde or brunette. I’m not anything other than what I am. And I can’t pretend to be. I’m me. And if he likes me, than f**king awesome.”
Acting out an argument by yourself is truly a rollercoaster. One minute you’re on top and victorious and, the next, you’re sobbing on the floor of your shower because of an insult that you imagined.
“I don’t wanna go through this experience feeling different, all because of the colour of my god damn hair! It sucks! It’s just the colour of my complexion. I don’t wanna talk about it!” she sobs and pushes the camera away.
Thirty seconds passes and she’s ready to talk again.
“No one has my hair, no one has my bone structure,” she asserts, her emotional rollercoaster now creeping back up to a high point. “No one has my body. That’s not a lie – they don’t. But you’re still different. You’re still a f**king ranga at the end of the day and it sucks. Did Areeba do it to any of the blonde girls? Any of the brunette girls? No.”
The cameraman is honestly just in shock. He wants to leave and film other people but he’s afraid that, if he does, she’ll accuse him of hating redheads. So he stays and the perplexing meltdown continues.
“You know what? I’m proud of being a ranga. I will be a ranga until the day I die. We are more striking than any other human that walks the earth. The way people treat girls and men with red hair needs to end right now.”
She’s on a crusade. And she’s right! Out of everything going on in the world right now, why isn’t the discrimination against redheads being addressed? Waleed Aly should do a searing editorial on this.
“There’s nothing wrong with being a redhead,” she chants as she charges across the living room to pick a fight with Areeba.
“I just wanna say, what you did … was really not appropriate. And really not OK,” she points her finger.
Like a true boss, Areeba laughs in the redhead’s face. And she does it while eating a service station sandwich out of one of those plastic triangle containers.
It gets better. We look around the room and notice they’re all eating service station sandwiches!
Proving yet again just how good she is at articulating her thoughts and feelings, the redhead presents a compelling point.
“We had a vibe. So thank you so much for vibing whatever you thought you were vibing. But you interrupted whatever I was vibing,” she spits. “You look kinda like a moll. I called you out on your bullshit. You acted like a moll, and I called you out for being a moll.”
The moment is vicious but Areeba is totally fine. She just giggles to herself and goes back to eating her service station sandwich in peace because she’s a boss.
In the chaos, we forgot all about the triple threat rose. Locky gives it to the chick who stole my outfit.
We go to the rose ceremony and the angry redhead refuses to show up because her temper is as fiery as her hair. Producers force Locky to give her a rose regardless because they assume she has got, like, nine more paranoia spirals left in the tank.
It unfolds the same way all rose ceremonies do in a premiere. The crazies are kept because producers want us to keep watching. And two meek and polite ladies who we don’t even recognise are booted out.
Why? Because they’re as bland as a service station sandwich.
https://news.google.com/__i/rss/rd/articles/CBMipAFodHRwczovL3d3dy5uZXdzLmNvbS5hdS9lbnRlcnRhaW5tZW50L3R2L3JlYWxpdHktdHYvdGhlLWJhY2hlbG9yL2phbWVzLXdlaXItcmVjYXBzLXRoZS1iYWNoZWxvci1hdXN0cmFsaWEtMjAyMC1lcGlzb2RlLTEvbmV3cy1zdG9yeS9kNzEwY2QyODhmYmUzYjE5NTA4OGY1MTBmZDg3YmRmMdIBpAFodHRwczovL2FtcC5uZXdzLmNvbS5hdS9lbnRlcnRhaW5tZW50L3R2L3JlYWxpdHktdHYvdGhlLWJhY2hlbG9yL2phbWVzLXdlaXItcmVjYXBzLXRoZS1iYWNoZWxvci1hdXN0cmFsaWEtMjAyMC1lcGlzb2RlLTEvbmV3cy1zdG9yeS9kNzEwY2QyODhmYmUzYjE5NTA4OGY1MTBmZDg3YmRmMQ?oc=5
2020-08-12 11:16:15Z
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