It’s really not Nichole's night.
It’s really not Nichole's night. Channel 10

Hysterical walkout after kiss rejection

One woman desperate to be pashed has been rejected and offered a humiliating consolation prize that pushes her to storm out in a hysterical rage on Wednesday night's instalment of The Bachelor.

"She's just a blonde f***ing bitch with a tan!" she wails about another innocent girl who becomes collateral damage in the broken heart. This statement is also our first spectacular insult of the series, so take it in and use it as your own. Perhaps yell it at a colleague as you pass them at the photocopier tomorrow.

The tantrum is a slow-build and it all comes to a head after Nichole tells Matt she wants to start a Coffee Club franchise with him in a suburban Westfield and then he refuses to kiss her and she storms out. If that hasn't happened to you then you're not living.

The only thing more embarrassing than the scene Nichole causes is the choice she makes after it.

It's a night of humiliation in The Bachelor mansion and we're also given several examples of incredibly lame first date conversations to avoid in the outside world.

But first, we bring you an update. After going missing for 24 hours in the last episode, this dame has decided to come back from the dead.

Greetings, Vakoo.
Greetings, Vakoo.

Matt makes good on that golden ticket he gave Elly and takes her for a date to his hometown of Melbourne where she proves that she is Steve Irwin reincarnated as a Bachelor contestant.

"Holy shit! There's a bloody horse and carriage!" she yells, and that's exactly what the Queen says every time she sees one rolling around Windsor.

‘Bloody oath!’
‘Bloody oath!’

First dates are all about the sexual tension - the crackling conversation and feeling the buzz of attraction. For Elly and Matt, their conversation is electric.

"It's bloody beautiful, the grass! I really appreciate a good lawn!" she exclaims.

After whirling around Flemington Racecourse, they're then greeted by … Matt's grandma? Ita Buttrose? Who knows.

Relax guys, I’m not an idiot, I know it’s Maggie Beer, jeez.
Relax guys, I’m not an idiot, I know it’s Maggie Beer, jeez.

Elly continues to serve up her sizzling conversation which also happens to support the show's main goal of perpetuating gender stereotypes.

"You ever want to be a cowboy, Matt?" she giggles.

"Yeah, what boy didn't want to be a cowboy?" he laughs.

Me. I didn't want to be a cowboy. I wanted to be Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich or Endora from Bewitched.

Anyway, he gives her a rose and they pash and Maggie Beer cheers them on.

While this mess unfolds, the girls back at the mansion find a date card. It elicits an appropriate response.

ERMAGHERD DERT KERD!
ERMAGHERD DERT KERD!

Everyone's super excited.

Me in my regular meetings with HR.
Me in my regular meetings with HR.

As we know, these group dates are just a trick. We spend far too long doing an advertorial for the sponsorship vehicles and then we get made play a weird game Osher invented.

Since the intruders rolled into the mansion, there's an aggressive, toxic energy building and producers know they probably shouldn't make the girls do anything that encourages this negative behaviour. So they take them to a football field and instruct them to fight to the death.

Sidenote, these ladies can have Matt. We'll take the hot AFL player who doesn't say anything.

I licked it, it’s mine.
I licked it, it’s mine.

Anyway, this date is about as interesting as a football match, so we'll skip ahead. Nichole gets pretty messy on the field, so she scores some time with Matt and this brings us to tonight's second example of lame first date conversation that should be avoided if you don't want to get laughed off Tinder.

What does she talk about? Oh, the yoush. To show just how fun and carefree she is, she decides to rattle off an in-depth list of all the activities she has ever participated in since birth.

"I played a bit of volleyball and footy, I did netball, I get on the boxing pads too, I skateboard, I did ice skating in school, a bit of rollerblading," she powers on.

I literally didn’t ask.
I literally didn’t ask.

"I did more sports - should I go through the rest of them?" she asks.

"LOL DO IT," we whisper to her.

She then decides to take the reins and tells Matt how she sees their futures merging. It basically involves both of them running a Coffee Club in the outskirts of Melbourne.

"I have thought in the past couple of years I do need a scenic change. We can run our own cafe together one day," she informs him.

Matt's not interested in running a Coffee Club franchise, Nichole. He's a highly esteemed astrophysicist who moonlights as a bank teller at NAB. He's not giving up that kind of career to operate a cappuccino machine in a suburban shopping centre.

He decides he needs to split the scene before it gets messy. So far, every girl he has gone on a date with has landed a kiss. Nichole is expecting a pash but she's got a better chance of getting a decent latte at the Coffee Club than rubbing faces with Matt.

"Hmmm, Nichole, I've had a … good day? I've enjoyed your … enthusiasm?" he stumbles.

He's scared. He doesn't want to kiss Nichole. So he whips out a rose to ward her off. But it's not even a proper rose. It's a faulty, broken rose and he probably bought it from the Coles cigarette counter than from an actual florist.

He's so frantic to avoid this kiss that he pulls the rose out a little too fast and now it's all bent. He holds it up and, almost in slow motion, the head of the rose topples off the stem, lands with a dense thud on the concrete patio and rolls under the coffee table.

We do love our romance with a side of slapstick.
We do love our romance with a side of slapstick.

What an insult. Nichole is rejected from a pash and then gets a rubbish Coles rose.

Matt fishes out the massacred rose head from under the couch and places it in Nichole's cupped palms.

"Um, you just need a really shallow vase," he suggests.

It's humiliating. But it has only made Nichole more determined to secure a kiss.

"Well that was awkward but I still want to kiss him," she informs us.

"Yeah he seems totally keen, you should just go for it," we tell Nicole while rummaging through their cheese platter.

Matt knows the dangers a situation like this can bring. The terrifying scenes of Romy force-pashing the Honey Badger last year play on a loop in his head. He doesn't want to repeat the horror.

"Um, we didn't get stuck into the cheese at all. Are you a cheese eater?" he asks her. Deflecting an unwanted kiss with a wedge of parmesan. Classic move.

In life, we tell ourselves stories to avoid hearing the truth and to numb the pain. Nichole has told herself a very unique story to try and wash away the humiliation that came with being rejected. And she has no problem loudly telling the other girls this story.

"Yeah the date was so good! No kiss because I definitely wasn't giving him the vibe that I was gonna give a kiss out," she asserts.

Um, sure. That's exactly what happened.

"Do you think he would've kissed you if you were putting out the vibe?" some random girl inquires.

"Yeah, definitely," Nichole states.

Oh. That's an interesting takeaway, Nichole. We remember it slightly differently. Either way, you have admirable perspective on such an embarrassing situation and we applaud your confidence.

Just as we all shuffle out to the patio for this evening's cocktail party, someone finds another date card informing everyone that Matt will pick his next date by night's end. It sends the mansion into meltdown and the girls go feral as soon as he enters. Except for Elly. She doesn't go feral and that's why Matt pulls her away for a chat. They talk about how fun it was hanging out in Melbourne with his nan Ita Buttrose and then they pash again.

The date card clue hints that it'll involve cars and Nichole petitions with all the reasons why she should be chosen.

"I drive a manual!" she screams. "I don't wanna worry you guys but I did a V8 supercar experience for a birthday." We roll our eyes and tell her we're not worried about her Red Balloon gift voucher and walk away.

Just as she's about to brag about how good her hill starts are, she sees Monique drag Matt away.

"That's bullsh*t! Now I'm definitely pissed off!" she spits to Rachael while watching Matt and Monique over the fence like Wilson from Home Improvement.

Oh hey Tim, how’s Jill?
Oh hey Tim, how’s Jill?

"It's f***ing bullshit. I'm f***ing over it," she fumes. "If Mon gets the single date I'll f***ing lose it."

And with that promise, producers force Matt to give Monique the date card just to see Nichole make good on the pledge.

"It's not like I actually care, I honestly don't. F**k it," she spits as soon as Monique scores the date. Oh no. When will people learn that scream-crying about how they don't care just makes it uncomfortably obvious how much they really do care?

The final kick to the guts for Nichole is when Matt gives Monique a proper rose that isn't broken - unlike her wilted and snapped Coles rose.

"I'm f***ing over it," she spits, standing up from the daybed and delivering the first A+ insult of the series. "I don't give a f**k. She's just a blonde f***ing bitch with a tan. I'm over it!"

Yeah! People with tans are bitches.

"You know the cameraman's literally there," Rachael says in her dull monotone, alerting Nichole that we all just witnessed her tantrum.

"F**k off! I'm f**king done with it!" she warns.

She would walk off the show entirely, but then she's reminded that she secured a rose on her date - albeit a faulty Coles rose - and that it makes her safe in tonight's elimination. So she trudges back and stands alongside Elly and Monique. Nothing's more embarrassing than storming off and vowing never to return only to, you know, return.

She proudly holds her stubby snapped off rose.
She proudly holds her stubby snapped off rose.

Three girls are safe. Heaps more ladies receive roses. And then we say goodbye to three other girls. Who are they? We don't know.

They all look like that crying influencer.

For more observations on hot AFL players and the Coles cigarette counter, follow me on Twitter and Facebook: @hellojamesweir



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