Before the water had finished dripping from US swimmer Ryan Lochte's itty bitty Speedos, the gold medalist was angling for post-Olympics acting and reality TV show gigs. (Can you blame him? Jewel encrusted flag grills are expensive, swimming doesn't pay like TV, and he's saving up for a Union Jack.) While his inability to act like anything but his lazy bro self means that he's probably not the next Meryl Streep, lately, rumors have been swirling that he may be the next Bachelor. This must happen. Don't think he's up for the task?
Allow me debunk your objections to the televising of the quest for Mrs. Ryan Lochte, one by one.
Lochte and his publicity team have launched a mini-campaign of sorts to get their champion on the ABC show, and in the last few days, even show host Chris Harrison called the possibility "awesome," as long as Lochte doesn't pee in the hot tub. For his part, Lochte has says that he'd "definitely" consider taking the title role for a season, after consulting his family, and in recent interviews, he's gone hilariously out of his way to say something incongruous about how he's finally ready to settle down, or how he doesn't like to "do anything" with girls until he gets to know them, which to me seems like a thing Ryan Lochte would do if he was coached by a publicist to project a "CAST ME ON THE BACHELOR" vibe. But what about the show's viewers, who are, from what I can tell, mostly white ladies with sponge painted stencils that say LIVE, LIFE, LOVE on their kitchen walls or other white ladies who ironically livetweet the show while GChatting reaction gif files to their friends? To oppose a Lochte Bachelor is futile.
He's too famous.
Lochte would be an unconventional choice for the starring role in the ABC institution — so far, the closest thing the show has had to a celebrity was Charlie O'Connell, D-List actor Jerry O'Connell's Z-List brother. But the world is overdue for a celebrity version of The Bachelor. We've already laughed, cried, and recoiled at Flavor of Love and it's squirming children — I Love New York, Rock of Love, A Real Chance At Love, Rock of Love: Bus, and the ill-fated Megan Wants a Millionaire. Why not give a celebrity dating show a real network budget and see what happens?
He's too dumb
Have you ever seen The Bachelor? That show is a Mardi Gras of stupidity. It has made me racist against white people with porcelain veneers. Sure, Lochte would have a lot of camera time, and producers would probably have to hire someone whose only job is to insert the sound of crickets into awkward silences. But the franchise has featured plenty of dolts whose mouths birth inanity more prolifically than a pair of horny hamsters births edible babies.
The show once featured a foot fetishist named Tanner who said, with a completely straight face,
I can tell everything about a girl with her feet. I think I could find a girl that I could marry within 10 seconds just by looking at her feet.
Another contestant once said,
People are mean to me, you know, sometimes, when, because of the way I look. You know and I mean it sounds, like, so stupid, but like, like people hate me because I'm beautiful. I mean like, no matter what, like, there is a huge prejudice and racist.
Ben's my Prince Charming because ... he just is a Prince Charming.
The show's overflowing with sort of person that makes last night's interview on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno sound like a TED talk with Neil deGrasse Tyson.
The timing is wrong.
Shamewatchers of The Bachelor know that the franchise alternates between airing seasons of The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, and, once in a glorious while, Bachelor Pad. Since a season of The Bachelorette finished airing earlier this summer and a season of Bachelor Pad is currently airing, up next is The Bachelor. If the show had already started filming, we'd have to wait until at least next year to see Ryan Jeah! his way into the heart of some dental hygienist from the Dallas/Ft. Worth area, and by then, the iron may no longer be hot.
I reached out to the show's publicist with my incredibly urgent concern. She explained to me that they don't comment on casting rumors and speculation before it's announced to the public (Lame! They should! It would make it so much more interesting.), the next season of the show hasn't yet gone into production yet and will premiere in January, which my hopeful heart has taken to mean that there is totally a chance that Ryan Lochte could be the next Bachelor, which means there is totally a chance that our collective pro-Lochte-as-Bachelor voices can maybe, possibly tip the scales. Her last message to me read, cryptically (and [sic]),
Your welcome. I think you'll know when we make the announcement about who will be the next Bachelor. :) Thanks.
OMG it's totally going to be Ryan Lochte.
Lochte is too much of a tool.
This is a good point, actually — Ryan Lochte is a gigantic, prescription strength d-bag. Since we first fell out of love with him, he's trademarked his signature JEAH! exclamation, which, let me remind you, is a phrase that he did not invent. He designs star-crotched swimwear. He's selling custom sunglasses on his website that contain the word JEAH, which you can get autographed for $100 (no word on how much it costs to get the sunglasses teabagged). According to the Daily News, Lochte plans to festoon other products with his made up, copied-off-a-rapper catch phrase, including jeans, workout videos, keychains, and, I don't know, tampons. Jeah, heavy flow today.
But all of these traits should be attributes in the quest for reality stardom. The Bachelor is basically like watching a rich, sadistic little girl with a ton of imagination play Barbies with actual humans instead of dolls, but the star of The Bachelor is invariably a bland Ken Doll of a human being. Watching the show with a Ryan Lochte rather than a Ben Flajnik would be like replacing a glass of lukewarm tap water with a can of Four Loko. Sure, it might leave you with a Tuesday morning hangover, but your Monday will be a night you'll never forget. Plus: abs. No season of The Bachelor would be complete without a guy willing to run shirtless down a beach.