'Bachelor Pad': An open letter to ABC
Dear Sir or Madam,
Why do you hate me? Nay, why do you hate the more than 4 million fans who willingly spent two full hours of their lives (or an hour and 15 minutes if you FF through commercials) every Monday night last summer watching the
reality show equivalent of herpes searing indictment of our fame-obsessed culture known as Bachelor Pad? You must loathe our very existence; I can think of no other reason that you would choose not to put the Pad on your schedule this summer.
Surely it can’t be an issue of cost. Have you forgotten that when Bachelor Pad premiered in 2010, the budget was so low that the challenges included pie-eating contests and a game of Twister? I’m willing to wager a guess that you spent more on crafting custom swim gear for Louie Anderson, star of your upcoming reality competition Splash, than you did on all of season 1 combined. And if money really is the problem, just do what every other reality show does: embrace product integration! Just think of all of the sponsorship opportunities — the K-Y Intense Effects Pleasure for Her Massage Gel Fantasy Suite, the Trojan Bareskin Hot Tub, or the Planned Parenthood Poolside Lounge…
Or perhaps you feel that Bachelor Pad simply can’t top last season’s shockingly awesome finale, in which outlier Nick chose to keep all the cash and shut out his reluctant partner Rachel? Hey, I get it. That was fantastic television, and Nick’s d— move does mean you’ll have to reinvent the game in order to keep viewers on their toes. But I truly believe ABC’s team of reality TV executives can tackle this problem head-on and come up with the most shocking twist… ever! Don’t doubt yourselves, people. Are you not the network who brought us Conveyor Belt of Love, a show that simultaneously slaked our thirst for televised romance while also indulging our love of paddle signs?
Maybe — and I pray this is not the case — Bachelor Pad is not being allowed to return this summer because the executives at ABC feel that it’s too “crass” or “sleazy” or “the kind of show you need to shower before, during, and after watching.” To those executives I say, you people are missing the point! Bachelor Pad is a cautionary tale, one that paints a vivid picture of the degrading horrors waiting for those who seek to fill the void in their soul by appearing on a reality TV show. It’s like Scared Straight!, only with fewer convicts, more drinking, and about the same amount of screaming. Surely you don’t mean to deprive viewers 18-49 of such a valuable public service?
Well, ABC, I’ve said my piece. And while I will not be googling the mailing address of your headquarters in order to deluge your offices with “Save Bachelor Pad!” care packages filled with roses and Valtrex pills, I would be truly surprised if mine is the only voice you hear raised in protest against this terrible injustice.
Kristen Baldwin, loyal Bachelor/Bachelorette/Bachelor Pad viewer