El Piloto Part 5: Great Is Thy Faithfulness

TenArial has overloaded on the lip gloss again, babies. She is greased up like a watermelon in some twisted Camp game as we head into El Piloto Part 5, tinkling on and on about how it's so exciting to be at the point of meeting families, almost and maybe if she doesn't get cut. We are still on the ginormous RVs, but are going to be stopping in . . . San Francisco!! "It's so romantic," says Le Sausage, "I've never been in a big city before." WHAT?

El Piloto meets the RV at The Intercontinental, wearing his horrible leather jacket. "Have some Madiera, M'dear," we mutter to ourselves, and then realize that he is no Continental, Inter- or otherwise, and that these ladies have nothing to fear. He awkwardly presents the ladies' new digs as if he made them himself in Naked Carpentry class, and dumps a date card on the table before he leaves. It's for TenAriel!!! "Let's get our Love on Track in San Francisco." TenAriel is so excited to have a date that she has eclipsed the pitch of dog whistles. Her heart is pounding, gentle readers, and she would be devastated if she were sent home.

"I am prejudiced against people who wear eyeliner all the way around," says ABe, wholly unsympathetic to TenAriel's anguish. ABe, it seems, is into the Sutter Home Chardonnay again. But now we ALL are. "The introduction of mini-bottles may have been a miscalculation," says KMu.

Moments and a hard edit later, The Flying J is picking up TenAriel for their date in. . . . a liturgical dance turtleneck. This is our thing (all of us). We don't like liturgical dance. We realize that some people find it Deeply Meaningful, Etc., but we are convinced that it is mostly done by people who didn't move enough as children, and who consequently feel the need to leap around in pinafores and turtlenecks frantically waving banners of bright colored cloth. In that way, we suppose liturgical dance fits San Francisco, but it does not fit El Piloto.

Anyhow, El Piloto kumbayas TenAriel onto a streetcar, while she tinkles on and on like a 5 year old. She has so much love to give, my dears. Oh, and here we are in China Town, which is "amazing, like a foreign country," to Jake. Well THAT explains why the Flying J tries on a hat with a little braid out the back while TenAriel tries on the traditional chinese rice-picker-in-a-photograph hat. We bet these people would buy bandanas with fake dreads glued on it in Jamaica.

Somehow, we find ourselves at a fortune cookie factory. Okay, we used to buy boxes and boxes of fortune cookies for ourselves in college. Which is why a date here would be a total disaster for this viewer, as we would instantly abandon El Piloto for a room full of said cookies, where we would be found 10 days later with a fistfull of fortunes and a belly full of that sweet cardboardy goodness. In the face of so much temptation, TenArial and El Piloto show remarked restraint. He feels "chemistry growing." (ABe: "I'm growin now, just lookin' at you girrrl."). They make out in the fortune cookie factory gift shop, later to be found listening to a Chinese bagpiper in a backalley.

TenArial searches for the right words, so overcome is she: "Finding love in San Francisco would be . . . . . " Like millions of gays everwhere.

While TenAriel and El Piloto are getting ready for dinner, we flash back to the ladies in the hotel room, where the next date card has arrived. We did not realize a person could wear so much spandex as Corrie Rivers leaps for the card. And then we realize she is 22 years old. 22 = spandex. 32 = fleece with an expandable waist. Trust me, babies. "Come be the Queen of My Castle." the card reads. And it's for . . "Ali and Vienna," says Corrie Rivers. . . followed by a heartstopping moment of silence, followed by "just kidding." The card is really for GPow and Le Sausage, but now Ali is totally lacking in what JShro calls "Good Home Training." The GHT deficient is full on display as Ali, in front of Le Sausage, tells everyone how her heart was beating "so fast" at that, and then tells Le Sausage that her over-reaction is not personal and has nothing to do with Le Sausage, which is so clearly a lie that we have just lost all patience. Le Sausage is pissed and storms off, as she has good reason to be, even though she will Not Age Well.

So back we go to TenAriel and dinner at Coit Tower. Just as the Washington Monument is the starchy no frills Peoples Penis of the righthanded states, Coit Tower is the brilliantly lit, bejeweled Peoples Penis of the Left. Once again, leave it to the gays to make everything pretty.

TenAriel and El Piloto are having dinner on Coit Tower's. . . um, tip. And talking about her marriage: "So, what mistakes did you make in your marriage that you would be conscious of again," El Piloto asks. Well, THAT's presumptive. And she responds: "Oh, I took some things for granted. And I will never take those moments for granted again, no matter what they are . . . jumping up off the couch or out of the kitchen when he comes home to greet him." WTF. There is something not connecting here because generally, these comments would come from someone who had a good 1950s marriage. And also, who bit off her eyebrow? We admonish TenArial's over-aggressive waxer. Next question: "So, what does marriage look like to you?" To which she says, "People have so many unrealistic expectations."
Sayeth KMu: "Like monogamy?"
What does marriage look like to him, dear readers? "Love, honor, respect. Marriage is never going to be perfect, but love can be." Barf.

And then TenArial asks Our Favorite Question In the History of the Bachelor:
"So, pilots and faithfulness?"
Ahahahahhahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaa. "Yes," says KMu, "Death. Taxes. Unfaithful Pilots." But El Piloto has it all figured out: "Cheating is a choice," he earnestly vows, "and the woman I marry will be the last woman I look at." Looks like there's gonna be a lot of groping in the dark going on in his future.

They open their fortune cookies, both of which say "kiss me," and she ends the evening in tinkly kisses as On The Wings Of Love, the oboe and synthesizer rendition, swells in the background. Abe, KMu, and I are going to bring our recorders next week.

Back at the hotel, the next date box has arrived . . . and it's a coffin. It is at this point that ABe informs me that we are, in fact, related through the Hostetler Massacre. That's right, babies, ABe is the Person of Color cousin to my white self, linked by our blue eyed ancestors who were spared in the massacre of 1757. But for said sparing, we would not be here to bring you the BNU every week. We are not making this up. At any rate (and we could write volumes here, trust us), we will leave you with that, and also with KMu's thoughts on the issue: "In keeping with the San Francisco theme, it looks like you and ABe can never marry."

So we open the coffin to find sequins. Piles and Piles of Sequins. "I thought I would give you all some options to get decked out for our date. I'll pick you up shortly," the card reads. Either Estelle Getty has bequeathed all her dresses to The Bachelor or El Piloto has no taste. We flash to our own days playing dress up, and the red polyester dress with fringies that we loved so dearly, the panythose cut and braided so that we could wear them on our heads and pretend they were long hair, and the sweaters we *might* have pulled out of the Dress Up Box years later to wear in Real Life. Somehow, all of these things are still better than the fuschia solid sequin tank top that Le Sausage winds up squeezing herself into, and the royal blue lace dicky with sequins that GPow finds. Ew ew ew.

We have not recovered from these horrible, horrible outfits when we arrive at . . . another vineyard stretching out in front of a ginormous castle. "I am the Dread Pirate Roberts. There can be No Survivors! The Dread Pirate Roberts is here for your sooooouuuuuuuuuls," announces ABe as El Piloto appears on the stairs. Our favorite part of this shot is the camera man in the red ball cap hovering behind him.

The Flying J, it seems, is "nervous to go on a 2:1 date because I can't figure out how to split the time." No shizz, given the *awesome* Ella/Kathryn date last week. As for Le Sausage, she is just excited: "I'm my dad's princess. I'm Jake's Queen, and he is my Prince Charming." Poor GPow is shrinking into the woodwork behind her. But, they are both incredibly excited to discover that they are staying in the castle overnight!!! As they settle in for dinner, Le Sausage tells Jake: "You had me shaking in my pants at the rose ceremony. " We are pretty sure she is not talking about pants pants, and then get confused because we are pretty sure she does not wear lady pants either. And then, she starts to CRY. "When you came back in and saw Ali crying . . . it was ME that was holding back because of what SHE said. It was hard to hold on. And so after the rose ceremony, I couldn't anymore." Okay, these are the biggest, fattest crocodile tears. And also, GPow is sitting right there. Awkward.

So El Piloto reacts to Le Sausage as any man would: "Gia, let's go for some 1:1 time." After, of course, reassuring Le Sausage that she is there because he wants her to be.

GPow and The Flying J wander off into the bowels of the winery for some alone time, during which GPow confesses that she is insecure, made even more so by the fact that the girls previously were discussing how El Pilot liked each and every one of them to put their legs on his lap, and how she didn't realize that was the case because she thought it was just "their thing." Again, we are not making this up. El Piloto reassures her that she's "cute, sweet," that he's really into her, and that he is "falling" for her.
Query: "Is it okay to fall?" GPow whispers.
Answer: "It's okay to fall."
RAGE. BURNING RAGE. We are on a plane to write dialogue for ABC, stat.

But by now, Le Sausage's meat has gone cold (badabing), and so she is now wandering the winery, carrying a lantern and bleating "Jake? JAKE???" She's lost, babies. Lost, and cold, and hungry (because she didn't eat her salmon, stupid girl), and just wants to find El Piloto. Which she does, eventually, and gets her 1:1 time:
"I am keeping my eye on the prize," she tells him. We really hate that phrase. But we hate her thoughts on marriage even more: "I want to feel like a 6 year old kid every single day." (We are pretty sure this is illegal in all 50 states). "I want to have fun with my husband, to travel. (Well, the bar is low on that one considering she has NEVER BEEN TO A CITY.). But, El Piloto keeps it original by telling her that he's falling for her too, adn then we are done with dinner.

Le Sausage and GPow are sharing a room that night in the castle, but Le Sausage really wants to sneak down to see El Piloto, so once again she takes her lantern, wine glasses, vino, and wanders down. Ahahahaa, he has a giant knight in shining armor painted on his walls. As he lays there awkwardly, she attempts a toast: "To new beginnings. Finding love. Not having to go back to my own bed." He eventually kicks her out, but we still must deal with this: "I was laying there. Not quite nekkid. She was close. Very sexy. Two glasses of wine. I assure you, I had dirty thoughts." GAH.

Meanwhile, the next date card has come for Corrie Rivers. (Suck it up, babies, because we have two more dates to go). "Love is a walk in the Park." it says. Since, apparently, we are done with GPow and Le Sausage, we jump right into this date. Corrie Rivers is, hands down, wearing the ugliest and most impractical outfit on El Piloto Part 5. Despite the fact that they are WALKING in the PARK, Corrie Rivers selects 1) a 3/4 length tight dress, 2) leggings, and 3) patent leather high heels. "That is one fugly outfit," says ABe. We secretly laugh when El Piloto drags her into a boat in that getup.

This date is mostly tragic, and so we will be relatively quick:
There you see her.
Sitting there across the way.
She don't got a lot to say.
But there's something about her.
And you don't know why.
But you're dying to try.
You wanna kiss de girl (la la la la la).

Needless to say, he doesn't. He'll go 80 if she'll go 20. She's only willing to go 10 if he'll go 90. She's saving herself for marriage. He approves of this, but you know it means she's toast. At last, they manage to kiss in front of a ginormous fish tank after dinner. "FINALLY." says KMu. "Even I was getting blue balls over here."

As Corrie Rivers' date grinds to a halt, Ali has gotten the last date card: "I want to leave my heart in San Francisco. Show me your city," it says. Oh! Ali is excited because this is her very living quarters. WE are excited to see some nice clothes, even if her boots are a World of No. Le Sausage thinks it "sucks" that Ali gets to show El Piloto around town. We try to care.

So let's see. Date Ali starts with an introduction to the San Francisco skyline, where she points out the apartment complex in which she lives, followed by a random walk around the neighborhood. He buys her flowers ("You're my flower," she says. NOOOOOOO), and they talk about how it would be fun to have a place in Dallas and a place in "SF," which sounds totally awkward coming from El Piloto's lips. They have a drink at a little cafe, where El Piloto takes a big swig of a foamy latte and goes in for a kiss with all that frothy nastiness around his mouth. We know that this date would end a Firey Death right here if it were with This Bachelorette, as we would likely vomit on the Bachelor. They talk about her work (ooo, looks like this date is going for a firey death anyway) and she reassures him that she only works 5 days a week, but that she checks her email every day.

Ali and El Piloto wind up at the Golden Gate Bridge, or some park associated therewith, where Ali tells El Piloto that she runs (not anymore. Smart choice announcing that on national television, Ali.). And, they see a Pelican eating a crab. "SEBASTIAN!!!" gasps KMu. Somebody tell TenArial, for she will be sad. Blah blah Ali straddles El Piloto and they kiss on a blanket. Blah blah champagne in the sunset. Blah blah she completely sidesteps all questions about Le Sausage, and claims all she really cares about is his happiness as she mutters *diebitchdie* under her breath. Aaaand, they run into the water in her big tall leather boots. Bet those were fun on the walk home.

So here we are at the rose ceremony. One time, we made the mistake of watching Hoarders, in which the clean up crew discovered not one, but three dead cats flattened under the junk in this woman's house. Those cats have been turned into a hairpiece, and that hairpiece is on Le Sausage's head. We CanNot Look Away from the dead cat hairpiece nest. Okay, but we do look away long enough to secretly long for Ali's outfit, a la black and white saucy barrister. And also, to watch TenAriel confess to El Bachelor that she is nervous he is falling for a bunch of women at the same time and (nonsequitor) "when are we going to dance?" So of course, they do.

Meanwhile, Corrie Rivers has gone all transparent on us. She looks lovely, but homey needs a steak. It's okay, honey, you'll be going home soon and can comfort yourself with some Chubby Hubby. GPow is not much better, though she has covered her skinniness with a satin sheet fringed with fake peacock feathers. But we actually like GPow, and so we will abstain from all further commentary.

And then: why Why WHY is El Piloto so captivated by Le Sausage? We know he is from Texas, and we know they love their meat, but seriously. He wants to do something "special," for her, so he actually hauls her down to the room he's been sleeping in to look out at the city skyline through the balcony, and vows to us all that he will stop holding back with her. Apparently, gentle readers, he pulled away so as to be fair to the other women by not shutting them entirely out, but that is At An End. Proving, once again, that you cannot stop a man from running with scizzors if he wants to. I mean, really.

Ding ding ding Chris Harrison announces that it is time for deliberation, and we have these last thoughts. El Piloto and TenArial are looking for the same things in life. "But would you say she's a Ten out of Tenley?" ABe wants to know. GPow "may be the most insecure." Corrie Rivers is a "good, sweet girl" and total toast. He "loves Ali's temperament" (uh oh, more toast). But Le Sausage, well SHE is exciting, and you "never know what she's going to say."

Predictably, he picks:
1. TenArial
2. Ali
3. GPow
4. Le Sausage.

Corrie Rivers goes home! Clearly drunk in her exit interview, Corrie Rivers cries to the camera about not opening up. We feel bad for her, but she is 22 and we promise, in another decade, she will not even remember it.

Stay tuned for next week, in which we learn that GPow's mom is A Broad.

KLo