Will you accept this ruse?

Last winter, when it was too cold to do anything outside of the house, and when I had a free trial of YouTube TV, my friend Kera and I decided it would be fun to distract ourselves from the negative temperatures outside and watch ABC’s “The Bachelor.”

For those who don’t watch the show, “The Bachelor” features a cast of 20 women who compete to win over the Bachelor through a series of dates, parties, and trendy locale vacations. There is one winner at the end, narrowed down through a series of rose ceremonies that eliminate contestants each week. “Will you accept this rose?” the Bachelor asks the contestants each week. The show started in 2012, and it’s picked up a large following ever since. It dominates social media. It’s mentioned at every turn on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

I don’t have a TV, so in order to watch, I propped up my computer on a small marble table I bought from Hobby Lobby, the electrical cord glamorously winding across the floor to the outlet. I had to plug in my little pink external speakers in order to hear the sound. Kera made the popcorn. I provided the rose wine. We were just playing the stereotypical demographic for the show, of course. We weren’t really like this.

“We’re watching ironically,” we said to comfort ourselves. We weren’t the type of people that actually wanted to watch the show. We were the ones watching solely for the purpose of mocking it.

Three Bachelor seasons of watching later, are the lines blurred? When does being an “ironic” spectator cross over the line into true fandom?

To answer this, let me explain that there are two types of fans who watch the show. Those who think that the contestants are all speaking and acting candidly, with the cameras merely there to capture honest drama, and those who think it’s scripted.

I’m a part of the second camp. Sure, Kera and I will gasp when the Bachelor makes certain decisions or when one of the contestants does something wild (“I can’t believe Demi interrupted him like that!”). We almost hope some of the show’s drama and romance is real. But in the end, we know it’s all scripted. (Right?)

I think we are fans. But I think we’re fans of our own way of watching. We know it’s all a pre-planned screenplay under the guise of a reality show, yet here we are. We still sit on my living room floor, gazing into my computer screen, guac and chips and sparkling water by our side, waiting to see what the cast will say and which few words weren’t listed on ABC’s script.

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