The buzz at work this week has been all about ABC’s upcoming season of the Bachelor, featuring Sean Lowe – the runner up of last season of the Bachelorette. He’s blonde, hot, charming, hot, and often shirtless and hot, which made me fall in love with him last season. He will now have 25 ladies fighting for his love and I am excited to announce that I will be blogging weekly on his season as will my internet buddy Scott Muska (he’s a lot funnier than I am and blogged last season’s Bachelorette – check his work out here).
Anyway, with all this hype I couldn’t help but wonder how I’d handle being the Bachelorette and having 25 guys buying for my attention. At first I thought, “Um, awesome. Who wouldn’t want that?” But after much internal debate I concluded I would be the worst Bachelorette in the history of the 11 years the show has been airing. Here’s why:
1. I am not very adventurous
Every season of this show involves some sort of private jet, helicopter ride, hot air balloon, or friggen jet pack excursion. Without proper medication, I would have a severe panic attack, cry, possibly puke, and my date would then voluntarily leave the show after seeing me in this crazy state of anxiety. One season they propelled down a sky scraper to their dinner date. On another they bungee jumped off a bridge. PASS. THANKS. I would make the producers sign a contract of my hard and soft limits – 50 Shades of Grey style, substituting no anal beads for no free fall airplane jumping. The producers would hate me. The audience would hate me. My season would be boring.
2. I am not a classy drunk
They serve a lot of booze on these sort of reality shows. People have passed out drunk during the first cocktail party – I would not put myself past doing that. Between late night filming, starving myself to look great on camera, and the excessive amount of champagne they serve, no doubt in my mind I would be bombed 98% of the time we filmed. This is not good for anyone. I am your typical obnoxious drunk Brooklyn girl who slurs words, confesses her love for everyone and anyone in the room, dances against walls, and trips in anything that’s a higher heel than a sneaker. While my men will get a kick out of making fun of me behind my back, none of them will fall in love with drunk Shari. It’s pretty much impossible.
3. I can’t make a decision
I hate making everyday decisions. I can’t even count how many times I’ve spent 30 minutes walking around midtown trying to decide what I want to eat for lunch, only to get frustrated since I couldn’t decide and went back to my desk hungry sans food. How would I be able to cut down guys every week? Especially if they’re hot. How can I get rid of a nice piece of ass to look at? I wouldn’t be able to do it. My special camera time would show me making pro/con lists and asking Chris Harrison who his favorite is. But I’d totally have “THE MOST SHOCKING FINALE EVER” as I ask both men to continue dating me post-show so I can have more time to make a better decision. They’d both oblige (obviously) but then I’d come back to After the Final Rose as single as ever revealing that neither men were on the show “for the right reasons” and I would pull a Brad Womack and come back FOR A SECOND SEASON for another chance at finding love.