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Why No One Would Watch Me As The Bachelorette

I like wearing a bra, a preference which would seriously limit my options for the weekly cocktail party dresses. And let's face it, the bedazzled cocktail party dresses are a weekly highlight.
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Would I ever pull a Sam Frost?
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Would I ever pull a Sam Frost?

It's that time of the year again -- we are near the end of the 2016 Australian version of 'The Bachelor', and 'The Bachelorette'is about to start screening. People who know me are often surprised that I enjoy the shows; simply put, it's fun voyeurism into a world that I've never, and would never, belong in.

The shows are pretty much the exact opposite of my life. Everything from what the women wear to how they compete, and indeed, even many of the adventurous dates they go on (sumo soccer, champagne on a glass swing suspended from a cliff, anything that necessitates a bikini) are completely alien, and thus intriguing, to me.

Of course, it's a television show that is designed to attract viewers, so I can't help but wonder if I would ever do what they do on the shows. Would I ever pull a Sam Frost (last year's Bachelorette) in the quest for love on national television? But as I watch each season unfold, I know it wouldn't matter even if I did want to. I'd never be cast, because no one would want to watch me on 'The Bachelorette'.

Here's a non-exhaustive list of why:

1. I like wearing a bra, a preference which would seriously limit my options for the weekly cocktail party dresses. And let's face it, the bedazzled cocktail party dresses are a weekly highlight.

2. I definitely am too old. I just turned 40 -- blurgh -- nobody wants to see that. It would be like watching your grandma flirting and boozing on 'Big Brother'.

Plus, I Googled the definitions of "bachelor" (a man who is not and has never been married) and "bachelorette" (a young unmarried woman). So, an unmarried 50-year-old man is a bachelor, but a 40-year-old, previously married woman (aka moi), is not a bachelorette. Got it. But unfortunately, the term is in the name of the show, and misleading the public as to my eligibility would surely result in massive social media meltdown. And rightly so. We certainly can't rock the Definition Boat of Archaic Nouns.

3. I'm a mother, but I'm no drop-dead gorgeous, Angelina Jolie-esque, Snezana Markoski (last year's 'The Bachelor' winner). So, without any hotness to speak of, we really would just have my sole parenting to define me. Granted, my child is really, really good-looking, but apart from there being more to life than that, I'm fairly sure that his appearance wouldn't add anything to my sex appeal.

Furthermore, my son and I have an unhealthy, co-dependent relationship that would be awkward for everyone to watch. Yep, I could never leave him at home while I pursued a husband. He'd have to live in the Bachelorette Pad with me, tag along in a life jacket to various water-based venues for my burkini activities, and set up his PS4 on a television set covered in candles and roses to keep entertained during the cocktail parties.

4. I am too tanned. No, I didn't overdo the Dove Summer Glow -- I mean my skin is literally covered in this weird brown pigmentation. It has to do with my excessive production of melanin, or something science-y like that. It's too risky a look for the (severely under-estimated) audience who did not sign up to watch any hardcore United Colours of Benetton shenanigans. Well, at least that's the impression Channel 10 has given us with their predominantly white casting in all seasons of the shows (although, this year was slightly more diverse).

5. My daily routine will not inspire anyone to emotionally invest in me and give a shit about my love life. At the start of the season, when introducing me and showing footage of how I spend my days, viewers would see a lot of me parenting like a boss (i.e. they would feel sorry for my son), swearing at my laptop, softly crying while making an interminable supply of vegemite sandwiches (the kid has like 27 a day), and eating pasta while watching Ellen in my (pasta-covered) activewear. Yep, most people would probably agree that there is no hope for my future and that I deserve to be alone.

6. The manliness tests for the bachelors would not be remotely sexy. Forget about jumping off cliffs; things like the ability to do your own Business Activity Statement and submit it when it's actually due turn me on. Hot stuff. And you would probably see a challenge where I hand out my grocery list and the guy who buys exactly what I wrote including the brand and quantity would win extra time with me.

Ultra sexy to me, but possibly not the adrenaline and fantasy-filled escapades the viewer expects to see.

7. I swear a lot. This would result in lots of music playing over my conversations. People will stop tuning in if they can't hear the intellectual and witty banter between the cast members that is their main motivation for watching.

So, no 'Bachelorette' happy ending for me. I'd be much more entertaining in 'Rad Moms Parenting Like Bleepsh*t Bosses', anyway. And who wouldn't want to watch that?

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