Bachelor Behavior - Pt. 02

Bachelor Behavior - Part 2

by Simon Underfoot

Copyright 2022, All Rights Reserved

Day 0

In the morning, I managed a piece of toast and a cup of tea. At lunch, another cup of tea, but that was all. Keep in mind that I'm around three bills and you'll get a sense for how churned up my stomach was. That first day in front of the camera on the twentieth floor at JJC was nothing compared to how I felt sitting on my bed. I don't remember dressing, but I do remember seeing Stephanie as I walked out. She appeared almost as nervous as I felt, but looked fantastic anyway in a black pant suit that hugged her curves wonderfully, accentuating what she usually seemed to downplay. She gave me a once over, then pointed out that I'd missed a loop with my belt and wasn't wearing socks.

As nervous as I was when the limo pulled away from the curb, I felt almost calm by the time we rolled up in front of the hotel. Part of it was having lived through pressure situations on and off for the past half dozen years, but the bigger piece was Stephanie. The entire drive she was asking me questions about my childhood, or college, or anything else that came to her mind. I knew at the time she was just distracting me, but it worked, and the more I talked, the better I felt -- I actually had the driver circle the block twice to give us a little more time. Of course, everything on the ride was captured by night William, who was sitting opposite us.

As we stepped out, the excitement was back. I looked down at Steph and pulled her into a quick hug while whispering my gratitude. She smiled up at me while wiping at her eye, then grabbed my hand and led me to the front doors.

The ballroom was elegant, if fairly typical of high end hotels, but the view of the cityscape out the windows was wonderful. The women would begin arriving in about an hour, so I had time to wander around. Oddly, at least for me, I spent the last thirty minutes looking out at Chicago, enjoying the building sense of anticipation and the adrenalin coming with it.

At five minutes til, I left the ballroom and went to the adjacent meeting room Gloria had set up as the control center. I would stay there, watching the live feed on a large format TV until all the women had arrived, then make my grand entrance. We had toyed with the idea of meeting the women individually as they entered, but I couldn't think of a better way to make a terrible first impression than trying to come up with a one-liner nobody had ever heard before -- no thanks.

I honestly don't remember saying it, but as the women entered I whispered, "My God, they're beautiful." I only saw it later when the gif started circulating, courtesy of some nice up-close work from Toby, who was helping out for the Big Night. I was right, though.

It's hard to describe the scene when the doors were pulled back and the women stepped through. I had been adamant that the process would set aside physical appearance as much as possible, and I didn't care at all about money, so I was insistent that the women come dressed however they were most comfortable. The result was fantastic.

I saw a woman in a beautiful backless gown talking with a girl in tight jeans and a flannel shirt who was also wearing Chuck Taylors and a baseball cap. There were several summer dresses, and one woman wearing a leather skirt and knee high boots, but my favorite might have been the cutie dressed in yoga pants and a tank top.

Even better than the outfits was the variety of women -- it seemed I really didn't have a type. On the screen I saw a wonderful spectrum of skin tones, hair colors, heights, and weights. I was so excited that my leg was going extra fast and Gloria actually had to smack my arm to get my attention. She shook her head indulgently, then smiled. "Show time, Kai."

I grinned back and almost ran out of the room, barely sidestepping one of the technicians just entering.

I found Stephanie next to the back entrance as planned. She saw me and broke out in a smile, amused at the energy I was radiating. "I guess you're ready then?" she asked.

"If those doors don't open in the next ten seconds, I won't be responsible for my actions," I quipped. I might have been serious.

She reached up and squeezed my hand once, which I thought was wonderful, then led me into the hall.

Ever feel like you were the main course on the menu? Me neither, that would be weird. This was like being in the center ring of a circus, just before doing some death defying feat of heroic athleticism.

Every eye in the room was focused on me, or at least it felt like it, and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. No nervousness, just a wonderful smugness paired with boundless optimism.

Stephanie handed me a mic and I realized it was my turn to speak. "Did you already go?" I asked, holding the mic away. She laughed incredulously and nodded. "I am so sorry. I don't even remember the last five minutes." She shook her head and smiled, as if I was the biggest goof in the world -- I figured that was good enough.

Turning back to the women, I raised the mic. "Thank you so much for being here. I can't tell you what it means to me that each of you is willing to put yourself through this kind of ordeal. I don't know what the road will look like, but I hope it will end with my wife.

"For tonight, there are a lot of you and only one of me..." This got some laughs and one really loud wolf whistle from the girl in the ball cap, to which I tipped my own imaginary brim before continuing. "So please try to have fun and be patient with me."

There was some clapping, a cat call, and lots of smiles.

I handed the mic back to Steph and gave her an eager smile -- she just shook her head again -- then I jumped off the stage. It was only two steps high, but I landed right next to a group of girls who shrieked, then laughed. Freakin' awesome.

The next two hours absolutely flew by as I did my best to circulate, meeting the women as quickly as possible. Stephanie played chaperone, prodding me when I had been talking with a group too long, which happened a lot.

When the top of the second hour sounded, Gloria entered and walked quickly to me, as we'd arranged. "Excuse me, Kai, I need a moment." The woman I was talking to was none-too-pleased to be interrupted, especially by such a striking individual, but thankfully didn't make a big issue out of it. "Having fun?" Gloria asked quietly. I nodded, then made my way up onto the stage, where Stephanie once again handed me the mic.

"Ladies, if I could have your attention please," I said seriously. The room became remarkably silent in less than a minute. "Unfortunately, there is an issue that requires my attention. I'm very sorry about the interruption in tonight's activities. Please enjoy yourselves and I will return as soon as the situation allows."

With a wave and a solemn look on my face, I walked quickly off stage and through the back doors with Gloria. Stephanie remained behind in the ballroom.

The idea came from Sam, and I thought it brilliant as soon as he first started describing the concept. The issue under consideration was that first impressions are notoriously unreliable, and I don't believe in love at first sight, so why would we go through all the effort of narrowing down applicants to throw that work away based on momentary urges. On the other hand, trying to have conversations with forty-five women was just too much. Sam's solution: The Plan.

Gloria and I walked quickly back to the control room, where I once again took a seat in front of the live feed. On my right was John from Aristotle, ready with his laptop.

The first hour shut in that room was pretty dry and I found myself yawning as the adrenalin drained away; somebody was nice enough to bring me a cup of chai. Moving into the second hour, however, was altogether different.

The women in the ballroom had also settled in, their eagerness wearing off, and they were getting bored. Some were getting drunk at the open bar. Conflict -- no, let's call it drama -- was in the offing, especially with Stephanie circulating and asking doubt-inducing personal questions. Harsh, but helpful for The Plan.

It wasn't fifteen minutes later that the first argument broke out. It was obvious that the two main parties were both intoxicated, so I turned my attention to the women watching the verbal altercation from nearby. Making up my mind, I spoke directly to John. "The two girls yelling at each other need to go, and I don't like the way the one in the blue dress is smirking -- it makes me think she likes this kind of thing. Put the curvy brunette in the back on the 'Tentative List.' I like that she rolled her eyes at the other two. Oh, look --" I paused as a pretty woman with dark curly hair stepped between the two arguing women and quickly guided one of them away. "Put her on the 'Yes List.'"

So it went.

I haven't mentioned it yet, but I grew up around a lot of alcohol. If my Pop isn't an alcoholic, he's pretty close. He used to take me into his favorite bar when I was little and set me up with two bucks in quarters to play the old arcade games they had around. I got to be pretty good at Dig Dug and PacMan; I also learned to shoot pool before I was nine. Anyway, there were too many times spent watching grown men fight or waiting after baseball practice because Pop forgot to pick me up.

While I don't foist my beliefs on anyone, I don't enjoy being around drunk people, and I think turning to alcohol for solace is never a good choice. This meant that all of the ladies that over imbibed had to go. So did the sad, weepy ones sitting alone and staring into space. And the women who seemed to contribute to the nonsense.

I hope you understand that these were all wonderful women as far as I was concerned. I'd read their biographies and was deeply impressed by each of them on various levels, but we knew some things would only show up in-person. Consequently, the rest of my time in that room really sucked. They say "Kindness begets kindness," and sadly, drama works the same way. By the end of the hour, the list of names for the next set of cuts was ready.

I made my way back into the ballroom, and this time it wasn't nearly so fun. I'm no good at hiding emotion, and the fact that I was letting just over half the women go was weighing on my mind. So was having to explain why I left for so long, but I was fully committed to being honest, and all of them would have the opportunity to learn the truth anyway when they got back to their rooms and looked online.

Day 1

I definitely felt like a heel for having started the in-person process with a deception, so I felt relieved when I entered the ballroom again. Twenty-one women had chosen to remain, meaning just one on my 'Yes List' had decided it was too much.

The women didn't know I would be joining them for breakfast, and several were quite put out to not be dressed in their finest, but I found the entire situation more genuine than the previous night. Besides, I like a girl in jeans.

I spent the entire morning there, talking with the ladies without discussing details. Before starting, we had decided that I wouldn't try to learn anything specifically personal about the women until I did the final cuts to try to counteract my personal biases as much as possible. It would also let me focus on things like personality and physical attraction. The problem is that we hadn't really considered how difficult it would be to narrow the field down without knowing much about them; after all, every single woman in the room was theoretically compatible with me. Even so, I had to somehow keep them straight, so I started giving them monikers in my head.

Classy was just as her nickname implied, and sexy to boot. Dark hair and dark mascara paired with a tight bun gave her an intense look, but she was soft spoken and smiled a lot.

Freckles might have been the cutest of the bunch, very tall and very fair, with strawberry blonde hair pulled back in matching pony tails, which I thought was awesome as an everyday look.

Yoga Girl was, unsurprisingly, wearing similar attire to the previous night, this time with navy pants instead of gray; her camisole left very little to the imagination. She seemed -- in a word -- playful.

Lunch came and I continued to circulate, trying to cram as much information into my overtaxed brain as possible.

Around two in the afternoon I finally begged off, thanking the group repeatedly, then retreated to the control room where I sat with my head in my hands for a solid five minutes.

"You okay?" I looked up to find Stephanie with a concerned expression.

"Impossible. It's absolutely impossible to choose."

She gave me a reassuring smile. "How do you eat an elephant?"

I rolled my eyes in response, but knew she was right. "One bite at a time." Deep breath. "Thanks, Steph." Turning to the table at which I was sitting, I started sorting the pictures that had been left there by Gloria's team, two for each of the remaining women, showing them the previous night and that morning.

Babe was stunning -- absolutely jaw droppingly gorgeous -- but conversation with her was anything but easy. She moved to the 'No Pile.'

Smiley was super sweet and very genuine, yet I didn't feel a connection. I wish I had.

Rebecca -- the only woman that had broken protocol and told me her name -- was a little too brash. She had been the one in the ball cap, and while I loved that she did what she wanted, I couldn't get past the selfish vibe she gave off.

I narrated the whole process for Day William, hoping that the women watching later would be able to see how serious I was taking the process, and that my decisions weren't arbitrary. I guess I was hoping that anyone not chosen would at least have a little closure.

The more I looked at the pictures, I realized there were a few to which I kept returning, so I moved them to the 'Yes Pile.'

After a couple hours I was down to three Maybes, and it was eating me up. I wanted so badly to keep them with me, especially the dark skinned beauty I had dubbed Tiger for the way she kept looking at me -- in the end, I trusted my subconscious to do what was best for me.

Day 2

I made my way into the ballroom.

Stephanie was waiting by the door with a smile and a hug. "They're lovely women." I nodded in agreement and looked across the room to where the six of them were sitting around a large-ish circular table, looking anywhere from hopeful to nervous, except for one that seemed a bit smug; to be honest, I found that quite hot.

I sat in the gap they had left, feeling a bit unsettled myself. I put on a smile, but I'm sure it looked forced. "I really can't tell you how humbled I feel that such special ladies wanted to be here, and I am including all thirty-nine of the women that are headed back to their normal lives." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making eye contact with each of the women. "I was -- I am deeply impressed with how each of you handled such a stressful situation, and if you're still interested, I would love for you to continue with me in this process."

There was a tremendously awkward pause, during which I'm sure I wasn't breathing, then the woman on my right ventured, "Do we just say 'Yes' or would you rather have an 'I do?'" It took a moment for my brain to process her words, then I leaned my head back and laughed -- very loudly -- I couldn't help it. When I stopped the mood was much more relaxed and the ladies were all smiling.

"A nod would be fine." She pouted cutely, then nodded with a bright smile.

The other women also gave me nods and I leaned back with a heavy sigh of relief, which earned more chuckles.

After I had taken a moment for myself, I sat forward and put my elbows on the too low table. "We've talked, and I've read each of your biographies a dozen times, but I don't know who you are, so please tell me your name and give me a clue on your background so I can match you to what I already know." I turned back to the woman on my right. "Would you mind going first, Darling?"

She sighed theatrically, then gave me that lovely smile again. "Mary Williams, from Des Moines. I work for Iowa CPS as a social worker --"

I held up my hand and closed my eyes, visualizing her biography. "You grew up on a farm in Eastern Nebraska next to the Missouri River. You love animals, especially horses, even though you haven't had one since you were in high school. You completed a Masters in Social Work, and simultaneously love and hate your job. You work long hours, so there's no time for dating, and you haven't had a boyfriend since college." I opened my eyes back up. "Right girl?" She nodded vigorously, blue eyes wide.

Mary was a bit of a stereotype -- she even looked like the typical Midwestern farm girl, having dirty blonde hair to pair with those blue eyes. Her smile was gentle and sincere, although she was obviously still nervous, evident by the blush that had spread across her cheeks. She was wearing a tan department store dress that didn't really match her fair complexion, but she still looked lovely and I told her so. She was beaming when I finished.

"You're next, Trouble," I said, turning to look at my smirker across the table. She smiled broadly and it seemed to brighten the entire room. When I had first seen her almond colored skin and curly coal-colored hair the night before, I had thought she was from Central or South America. Not even close.

"My name is Ekaterina Irena Popescu," she said with a moderate Eastern European accent, "and I am originally from Romania."

I closed my eyes. "Say your name again, please." She laughed and did as I requested, drawing it out this time, sending shivers down my spine. "You may have the sultriest voice I've ever heard." Another laugh and I had to shift in my seat to avoid embarrassing myself by drawing unwanted attention downward. "So, Ekaterina?"

"Kat, please." Her smile continued to dazzle, but I managed to convey that she should tell me about herself. "I am thirty-one years old, and am a flight attendant. When I cannot fly, I work as a translator in Paris, where I live."

"How many languages do you speak?" asked the group's lone redhead. Her head snapped back to me and she covered her mouth. "My bad. I..."

I waved off her apology and grinned. "No problem. The idea of me interviewing each of you in front of the others is pretty cringe worthy, so anything we can do to make it less awkward would be great. By all means, ask away." The curious little redhead looked back to Kat and repeated her question.

"Five, if I count Spanish. I am very comfortable in French and English, and conversational in Italian."

"That is so cool," our questioner stated, and I nodded my agreement.

"And you're the oldest of five sisters, if I remember correctly?" I asked.

"Yes," Kat replied, "and the only one not married with children." Understanding smiles all around.

I paused for a moment, then asked a question I already knew part of the answer to: "So you figured out what was going on in the ballroom?" She nodded. "Out of curiosity, how long did it take?"

She shrugged and her smirk returned. "About sixty minutes after you left, when the women started getting a little crazy." She paused, then continued, "So much money was spent to bring us here that I assumed some trick."

"Smart and beautiful," I replied, and she clearly was. She was dressed in a deep blue pant suit that covered her entirely, but accentuated her beautifully. "Thank you for being here, Kat." It was almost physically difficult to pull my eyes away from her, but after I did, looking at the inquisitive redhead was certainly no chore.

"What's your name, Red?"

It's not always a good idea to point out a feature about which a woman might feel self conscious -- even I know that -- but in this case it wasn't much of a risk, because her dark hair was obviously died to its deep burgundy color. "Oh, you can keep calling me Red," she said salaciously, challenging my only-moments-old assessment of Kat's voice. Together with the look she gave me, it's no wonder my heart skipped a beat.