There's a special kind of sick, gleeful anticipation you get whenever a reality show is set to have an episode featuring your hometown. For people who live in big national hubs like Atlanta, New York, or Chicago, it's probably a little less special, but for those of us not originally from an enormous city, it's a treat! How will your town be represented?? Will they go anywhere you recognize??? Will you get to relive any embarrassing memories from your teens through special locations they visit??
On Monday night, for Peter Weber's final hometown date, The Bachelor visited contestant Victoria Fuller's sunny, sandy hometown of Virginia Beach, Virginia, home of the East Coast Surfing Championships, the hottest statue of the mythical King Neptune this side of the Atlantic, Pharrell Williams, and me. I love to hate The Bachelor in much the same way most people love to hate their hometown, but I have considerably more affection for Virginia Beach than I have for ABC's most manipulative, reverse-engineered, unrealistic reality show -- even though I spend two hours every week with my eyes glued to whatever awkward group dates and hellish skydiving adventures has to offer in terms of real, tangible romance, so who's the real clown here?
The show saved Victoria's date for last, so I had to spend the rest of the episode vibrating in anticipation, taking out my energy by posting a string of tweets about the other three dates that have been called "insane," "unhinged," and "very funny" by my loved ones. Thank you. Nearly 90 minutes in, I finally heard the soft, seductive call of ocean waves crashing against imported sand. Yes. YES. Here it comes. The "Virginia Beach, VA" chyron appeared at the bottom of the screen with a trill of reality show chimes. Victoria leapt into Peter's arms and he held her there like a large frog, while Victoria's very cute black lab Buxton made a last-ditch attempt to escape the whole sordid affair by launching himself into the sea. Sorry, buddy. We're stuck here.