“My name is Emily.” Thus begins my next descent into madness, as Emily Maynard and her boob job talk about how she cannot be-lieve that she’s the Bachelorette, as though she has no control over such things and they don’t involve agents and contracts and the selling of one’s soul for a fistful of dollars.
She is grateful, however and she hopes to meet someone to marry and have children with and who can be a father figure for her current moppet, who is the most important thing in her life. She tells us about how her baby daddy was in a plane crash, and it was the worst thing that ever happened to her, right before she found out she was pregnant.
She makes pancakes for her daughter and drives a van full of girls and enforces rules like “No potty talk!” which makes everyone giggle. She wants a family and wants to be a wife and wants a husband and other things that require no accomplishment of her own to achieve. She’s lonely and misses getting boned on the reg (and also love, which is how she puts it).
We watch her meeting Brad Womack, and reflect again on the sad subtext of Emily, which is that we all assume that, when someone looks the way Emily looks and is still single, then there must be something seriously wrong with Emily. Which is unfair, especially since we all know that next to “douchebag” in the dictionary is a picture of Brad Womack, but there it is. We watch her tear up as Chris Harrison forces her to reveal that they’re not engaged anymore, despite her high expectations.