Whoa. If I weren't going through life with such a cynical snicker, I'd think the intelligence level of the women on these shows might just have risen a tad.
But, I did watch one episode of "Joe Millionaire" a few years ago, and that one episode was all that was necessary to confirm my belief that some women will sink to irretrievable depths to hook a guy.
Then again, remember the woman who ran over her husband -- like four times -- when she found out he was having an affair? (She said it was an accident. Oops!) This would evidently indicate that some women will sink to even more irretrievable depths to get rid of a guy. And, what have we learned, class? Marry in haste, repent behind the wheel of a Mercedes!
I did get a pretty good chuckle out of one of those "Joe Millionaire" conversations, though. I can't remember it perfectly at this point, because to be honest, I can't remember much of anything before, like, right now. But here's the gist:
Girl (beautiful, buxom, breathy and blonde; repeatedly running her tongue over her lips to achieve maximum glisten): I wrote a poem for you ... well, for us ... Evan (Apparently, they not only lied about this guy having a million bucks, but also about his name being Joe.)
Evan: Oh, yeah? Cool. (But, it's obvious he's thinking, "Gag ... chick stuff.")
Girl: OK, here goes ... (giggle, deep breath, look down shyly) I want a husband, you want a wife, I could be with you the rest of your life ... yada, yada, blah-de-blah blah.
(It went on for a while, but he plainly couldn't hear it. I'd actually watched his face freeze and his eyes glaze over -- that first sentence had temporarily stopped all communication from the outside world.)
Me: Oh, girl, stop! Please stop! Save yourself!
Evan: Wow. That was ... uh ... beautiful (and by that he meant terrifying) so ... uh ... how about we go home now, and I never set eyes on you again? (Sure, he didn't really say that last part out loud, but his eyes were clearly screaming it.)
Girl: (inhale, giggle, toss the hair): Wait! Wait! I also have a gift for you. (Thrusts gift and cleavage in his direction.)
Me: No, no, hide it! Sit on it! Swallow it!
Evan: Oh, yeah? (thinking maybe a gift could be cool) Cool. (Takes the package a bit gingerly, as if he's afraid a minister will jump out of it with two rings, a marriage certificate and a bag of rice; opens the package to find five puzzle pieces.) Wow. (Looks confused.)
Girl (breathe, wrinkle nose, simper cutely): It's a puzzle. You have to put it together, and it'll make a picture of me. (Giggles at her obvious genius.)
Me: Mayday! Mayday!
Evan: Wow, that is so great. (Perplexed, he tries but honestly cannot put FIVE PUZZLE PIECES together ... I'm no psychiatrist, but isn't there a diagnosis for that?)
Girl (cute little frown and impatient toss of the hair after his THIRD TRY): Here. (She does it herself.)
Evan: Cool. (His face says this was SO not as cool as he'd hoped it would be.)
At this point, I was so embarrassed for this poor, desperate girl, and felt such an enormous sense of shared female mortification, that I think my uterus actually tiptoed over and hid behind my spleen. But, I watched to the bitter end, when Joe/Evan gave a necklace to each girl he wanted to stay on the show. This girl didn't get a necklace -- huge surprise -- and when asked about it later, she carefully wiped tears from her Maybelline-made-up eyes, and said she simply could not understand it because she'd "felt such a connection with Joe/Evan."
Please. She'd known him for nine days. My parents have been married for 60 years, and they JUST "felt a connection" last Thursday!
And so, let me say to all of you girls out there (because you know, these pouty perfect Barbies aren't really women yet) just this: Get a clue. Get some pride. Get a life ... or get a Mercedes!
Vicki Wentz is a local writer and speaker, and a Chapel Hill teacher. Readers may contact her at chh@heraldsun.com, or c/o The Chapel Hill Herald, 2828 Pickett Road, Durham, NC, 27705.
