COVID has taken so many of our favorite hobbies away: working out in gyms, sporting events, concerts – basically, our entire social lives.
But beyond that, the worst thing that is has taken away is Monday nights. Monday is when your heart fills with joy, Twitter comes together to discuss, and wine flushes your cheeks.
Monday night is The Bachelor night.
The Bachelor used to be one of my most time-consuming hobbies. Not only would I watch a two-hour episode, but I’d fill out brackets, fix special dinners, analyze preview breakdown videos, read several articles, and binge Roses and Rosé.
Man, how I miss the glory days filled with fence jumps, salmon jackets, and – well; no, I don’t miss Barb’s all that much.
The only way for me to be more involved in The Bachelor than I already am is actually to be on the show. Which will never happen! Some of you may dream of being on Broadway, attending an NFL game, or earning your Doctorate; this is my never-happening fantasy.
However, I do not dream about being on The Bachelor fighting for anyone other than Dawson. So, like, how would I win his first impression rose? (Something only an amateur would desire – no impression rose winner has won The Bachelor!)
Well, the most dramatic journey would start when I strut out of the limo, and here are 5 ways I’d do it.
Throw It Back
Dawson cracks up at comedian Tom Segura, who has appeared on Comedy Central, Netflix, and hosts the podcast, “Your Mom’s House,” with his comedic wife. In August of 2019, Tom’s best friend, Bert Kreischer, released a video of him dancing to announce his stand-up tour dates. Shortly after, Tom Segura created a video of himself dancing to poke fun at Bert.
For my first entrance, a black beard would be doodled on my face; a dark wig would be tied in a nasty, low ponytail; dumb, yellow sunglasses would rest on my nose; black clothes would unflatteringly sag down my entire body; and, a gold chain would be hugging my neck.
The song “Throw It Back” would start blaring, and my body would break out into dance. The moves would be the parody moves displayed in Tom Segura’s dance; however, I’d pay someone thousands of dollars to learn the steps.
Dawson would not see Chloe Hinkle, but Tom Segura – his future wife.
T-Shirt
The first time that I ever spoke to Dawson, it took me a week to muster the courage. I knew what time of day I passed him in the hallway, and I always considered speaking to him.
One Tuesday, I woke up, threw on my cross necklace, and reasoned with myself, “Chloe, you could die today! Do you want to die without saying anything to him?”
All morning, my hands were sweating rockets – holding a pencil felt like trying to control an ice cube.
When the bell rang, I knew what I needed to do. I scurried over to Dawson, who was mindlessly staring at the tile, and I squealed, “I like your shirt!”
Quickly, my eyes darted down to his semi-dingy, burgundy v-neck.
Yikes. This was not the nicest shirt I’d seen him wear. It was kind of like that commercial where the girl says, “…and you look amazingly comfortable.”
Why would I compliment him on something I didn’t even look at? Damn my fourteen-year-old self!
Skepticism crawled over his face, and he wearingly thanked me.
But now, here I am! So, like, it worked!
After seeing the obvious success that my school-girl-crush method had, I have no choice but to follow in my own, wise footsteps!
I would parade out of the limo wearing a fabulous gown, look everywhere but Dawson’s eyes, and whisper, “I like your shirt.”
Clearly, I would be the one to take home The Bachelor, Dawson Furnish.
Balloon Goth
Some things in life bring us pure joy. Most of those things were snatched away by COVID.
A happiness that wasn’t destroyed by the minor inconveniences of the virus – because we are all lucky to be healthy – was the delight of Jan Hakon. Otherwise referred to as “the balloon man.”
In 2019, videos of Jan began trending on Twitter. In these clips, he would pop balloons in the most ludicrous ways.
He’d stab them with knives attached to his shoulders, snap them with chairs, and pop them with spikes while blindfolded. When the balloons were no longer satisfying, he would break spaghetti noodles on his face.
All of it was a bit strange, but it never failed to bring smiles to faces.
My third idea would be to have the producers line the sidewalk with balloons.
When the driver opened the limo door, balloons would pour out of the backseat.
My shoe would hit the pavement, revealing hundreds of mini spikes.
Theatrically I would push my hand through the flood of balloons. Covering my skin would be a black, satin glove that went to my elbow. Several spikes would be covering the glove.
I would help myself out of the limo, and the camera would zoom in on the spikes plastering my outfit as if it were a costume.
My dress would be belted with spikes. Spike earrings would dangle toward my shoulders. My dress would be followed by a spike train, and my hair would be pinned up in a bun.
Suddenly, I’d start pulling spaghetti noodles out of my hair. As I would do this, my hair would begin falling, showing that the pasta had kept it together.
My eyes would begin searching for balloons as I aimed the spaghetti noodles at them. As I would chuck the pasta, the balloons would burst.
After exploding the balloons leading to Dawson, I’d humorously ask,
“Have you heard of Jan Hakon? He pops balloons way better than me, but I’m sure you’d pop a question way better than him!”
Any other Bachelor would send me packing that night, but for Dawson, that just might work.
Ezekiel 25:17
A terrible, confusing, drawn-out film from the 1990s, Pulp Fiction, is one of Dawson’s favorites.
Near the beginning of the story, Samuel Jackson, who plays Jules Winnfield, acts out an iconic scene.
He eats a burger, heaves a table, and howls, “SAY WHAT AGAIN!”
Next, he does something unexpected and quotes Ezekiel 25:17.
To mimic this scene that Dawson enjoys far too much, I’d have the limo door swing open and unveil me smacking on a burger. Without wavering my eye’s from Dawson, I would gnaw on the sandwich while standing from the car.
When I finally faced him while fully-standing, I’d gulp down the food and throw the remainder on the ground.
I’d holler, “SAY WHAT AGAIN!”
Then, I’d make crazy eyes, raise my eyebrows, and exclaim, “Ezekiel 25:17!”
As I crept toward him, I’d recite the verse more aggressively as each word passed.
When I finally finished reciting the verse, I’d be standing before him. My eyes still locked with his. Sweat would be rolling down my body as this would be the most intense thing I’d done since high school pitching.
To fans who’d never seen the movie, I’d seem insane. To Dawson, I’d seem uber cool for being into a movie that I so passionately despise – but that information would be saved for the second date I totally scored.
Monday Night
When I started this blog post, I mentioned slaving over special meals for Bachelor nights.
Do not be fooled – these meals are actually chocolate-covered strawberries or buffalo chicken dip.
The Bachelor is not the same when it isn’t paired with high-calories, comfy pants, and a wine glass.
This is the fifth idea that I’d pitch to the producers for exiting the limo while staying true to myself.
I’d be wearing a jumpsuit, as that is the closest thing to classy sweatpants, with a wine glass in one hand, and buffalo chicken dip in the other.
I’d make my way to Dawson, hand him the crockpot, and say,
“Life with me will be filled with wine, Monday night Bachelor episodes, and buffalo chicken dip. Life with you will be filled with beer, comedy-filled media, and buffalo chicken dip. It sounds to me like we could be a perfect pair chilling on the sofa, “cheers”-ing our drinks, and getting sick from too much buffalo chicken dip!”
That statement would be entirely too long for a first impression. Whatever I said would be way shorter and more awkward than that whole spiel.
But that is the truth. I am thankful that COVID didn’t take away one of my favorite hobbies: hanging out with Dawson.
You may not be at concerts or the NFL, but at least you have other things. Sit on the couch with your family, eat an abundance of unhealthy food, and make-up answers to questions like, “how would you exit The Bachelor limo?”
Once everything opens and COVID is cured, you’ll have plenty of time to plan for,
“So, Like, Now What?”
So, Like, Now What? 