I Didn't Come Here to Make Friends (18 page)

When informed that Samantha left, the Pink Ladies started crying and carrying on. I wanted to lighten the mood, so I joked, “Another one bites the dust!” That went over like a turd in a punchbowl. I just couldn’t understand what they were so upset about. Didn’t they want the number of women to go
down
? I wished he’d have sent
five
girls home. They were treating this experience like an Outward Bound retreat, not a dating competition. Only nobody would catch each other in a trust fall.

Ben seemed to think the same thing. When he finally pulled me away for a little one-on-one time, he started nagging me that I should get along with the girls. I told him I couldn’t really fake it—that I wouldn’t be friends with any of these girls in the real world. They had such widely varying and polarizing personalities. He didn’t see my side at all. I pressed him about what Samantha had said, that he was only here to promote his winery. Ben seemed shocked and offended. He denied even having mutual friends with her.

The bottom line is that this conversation happened when we were lying in each other’s arms, him shirtless and me practically naked in my skimpy bikini. So outweighing our negative conversation was the fact that our bare skin was touching for the first time and it was pretty hot. At the end of our little talk, he went back to the pool, grabbed the only up-for-grabs rose in front of the girls, walked back, and gave it to me. I was safe for the week.

Winning!

Yeah, I know. I stole that from Charlie Sheen. The
Two and a Half Men
star had his breakdown in the months before I left for the show. So his favorite catchphrase was fresh in my brain during my ITMs, when I was trying to think of witty quips to say. Here’s the other thing about my “controversial” interviews: by the time we got to Utah the producers knew I was a loose cannon, especially after a glass of red wine. As time went on, and as it became clear that Ben liked me and I’d be sticking around for a while, I got pulled into confessionals and found myself trying to be a comedian on-camera, doling out increasingly outrageous insults.

After the group date was over, I thought about my conversation with Ben. I was falling for him hard; we clearly had an intense connection. I decided I didn’t want to lose him and would try to make a better effort with the girls, even though I felt like a bomb was about to go off.

At the cocktail party before the Rose Ceremony, I complimented Emily on her silvery dress and congratulated Jennifer on the rose she’d received on the other one-on-one date, even though she’d been pissy in general for the last few days. I felt like maybe we could have a breakthrough if I just turned on the charm. Ben walked in, looking so handsome, and made another amazing speech about how it was a difficult situation, but that he was so glad that we were all being open to the process. He made me smile.

During my one-on-one time with Ben, which never made it on-air, I didn’t know that Emily was in a stairwell just outside the room we were in. She overheard Ben and I whispering sweet nothings to each other and kissing.

During
her
one-on-one time, which
did
make it on-air, she then slammed me to Ben, saying I was different with him than them (she also said in an ITM that I was like a statue made of marble, beautiful but cold and hard on the inside). He was annoyed and totally shut her down. Few straight guys want to be pulled into a catfight between girls. Just ask any of the
Real Housewives
’ husbands. Emily knew she’d messed up, yet when she came back to the living room she picked the totally wrong person—Casey, my BFF—to commiserate with.

“I hate that I jeopardized my time with him to talk about Courtney,” Emily whined.

“She’s not a fake person,” Casey said, standing up for me.

“Are you serious?” Emily shot back.

“I think she’s one of the most genuine people here,” Casey insisted. “I love her. She’s awesome around me.”

“She has no friends.”

“Obviously that’s not true.”

“All I’ve seen is a bitchy, cold, callous, rude demeanor,” Emily continued. “And then she’s sweet to Ben. She’s not sweet. She’s actually kind of mean.”

“She’s sweet to people who are sweet to her,” Casey retorted. “Obviously we’re not going to see eye to eye on this.” Then she got up, walked away, and, of course, told me the whole conversation. I had steam coming out of my ears like Yosemite Sam I was so mad.

It’s one thing for the girls to hate on me in the house, but another for Emily to assassinate my character directly to Ben. I could only take so much before I boiled over. Her biggest mistake was assuming I was a doormat, but I had a strong backbone, courtesy of my mother. “I want to rip her head off and verbally assault her,” I said in my ITM. I threw the show a bone on this one. Later I regretfully told Casey I wanted to shave Emily’s eyebrows off in the middle of the night. I was just kidding but I do wonder what Chris Harrison’s promo would say: “The most violent episode in
Bachelor
history!”

KEEPING IT REAL

Reality vs. Realistic

by Ashlee Frazier

The one question that always comes up about
The Bachelor
is: “Is it real?” The truth is … yes. Are we asked the same question by producers in five million versions? Yes. Is it staged? No. Here are some key tips for future contestants:

1.
Say “hello” and “good morning.”

2.
Take a quick moment and review your seventh-grade English book. You’ll want to know when to properly use your prepositions, pronouns, and verbs.

3.
Do be aware of what you say. If you don’t say it, it can’t be used against you. I’d say by week three and four you’ve been in the house long enough to get comfortable and people’s true characters start to come out.

Tips for future Bachelors and Bachelorettes:

1.
If you sleep with the contestant, you will be found out.

2.
In key moments, make sure to say the right person’s name.

3.
Refrain from making any contestant feel they are the One when you still aren’t sure yourself.

Knowing World War III was about to start, the producers gathered a bunch of us on the U-shaped couch, which was Kacie B’s cue to ask one of her silly Scruple questions.

“How many of you have learned more about yourself in the past two weeks than in the past two years?” she said, raising her own hand first.

A handful of girls raised their hands, too. I did not. Emily was first, which set me off. Should I have raised my hand like a good girl? Probably. But I was so furious about Emily’s gossiping I was itching for a fight. Kacie B was offended that I thought she asked a stupid question.

“I think most people who have gone through this process would agree with
you
,” Emily said to Kacie B.

I laughed at Emily.

“What are you laughing at?” she sneered.

“You,” I said calmly. “You know why. My guard’s up with you. You talked bad about me to Ben tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” she lied.

“I’m up on it.”

“Courtney, we’re not in fifth grade. C’mon, let’s be adults.”

After I told her that she was the one acting like a child, she again told me I had a personality disorder. Our fight was getting so ugly several of the other girls got up and walked away.

DURING THE ROSE CEREMONY,
Ben picked Emily last to teach her a lesson, I guess, and dumped Monica. I was relieved that one of the Pink Ladies was sent packing. She was a huge troublemaker and started a lot of drama behind the scenes. At the same time I was hurt that Ben chose to keep Emily after she insulted me directly to him and said I had a personality disorder.

In the champagne toast right after, Ben announced that we were going to Puerto Rico. He asked all of us if we’d ever been there before and I said that I’d just been there. We all had a normal conversation about it. But here’s how it looked on-air:

Ben: “We are headed to the exotic island of Vieques, Puerto Rico!”

Courtney: “I was just there two months ago.”

Silent angry stares from the girls, taken out of context.

After the cameras were gone, I was walking down the hallway back to my room when Emily snuck up right behind me.

“You’re such a fake bitch, with your fake hair and fake boobs,” she whispered menacingly.

Emily had fake boobs, too.

I thought about turning around and smacking her. Instead, I yelled, “You better check yourself, bitch!” suddenly as O.G. as 2 Chainz. “No wonder your boyfriend dumped you!”

It was the meanest thing I’d ever said to anyone in my life.

7

DOODY & DIPPING

W
hen we landed in Vieques, there were still eleven girls left, but only five (me, Nicki, Lindzi, Kacie B, and Jennifer) who I took seriously as a future wife for Ben. I refused to acknowledge that Emily was a contender. My BFF, Casey, was clearly not into Ben, but I had a hunch he was keeping her around just to keep me happy. Rachel was so nervous in front of Ben that they didn’t have any real chemistry. Jamie and Elyse had basically morphed into Snooki and Deena. Blakeley was an unknown wild card. And drunk a lot, too.

Honestly, I was getting kind of bored with Ben. Because we hadn’t had a real date in weeks, the short bursts of time we’d had together were really just subdued, earnest talks about our relationship, which weren’t really that deep. We had ten-minute Hallmark card conversations with weird girls peeping around the corner at us. We were still the Pecking Pirates and his excruciatingly slow, closed-mouth kisses were getting old. I might as well have been kissing Brittney’s grandmother.

I was dying to have a little fun and wanted to see if Ben had a spontaneous side. But first, I created a little excitement of my own. On that first afternoon in PR, my Duralax arrived. Hallelujah! At about 3:00
P.M.
, Casey and I met in my room to take the laxatives. The directions said it’d take about eight hours to kick in.

Later that night producers gathered us on a U-shaper to announce the next day’s group date card. Oh
crap
. Literally. I forgot about the group date! If it was something active, and I was on that card, I was in serious trouble. Jennifer read it out loud:

“Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”

In the episode, you can see Casey and I look at each other and giggle nervously when our names were called. We prayed that the date would have something to do with jewelry but were mortified to find out we’d be taking a long bus ride, then a little puddle jumper plane to San Juan to play baseball in hundred-degree humidity. This was not good for my hair or my intestines.

That night while we were sleeping, exactly eight hours after we took the laxatives, Casey and I each had our own private nightmares. How can I put this politely? Okay, combine the toilet scene in
Dumb and Dumber
with the wedding dress shop scene in
Bridesmaids
and multiply it by infinity. I was sharing a bed with Rachel when all of a sudden I broke out in a cold sweat and my stomach started gurgling uncontrollably—like a geyser about to blow. I didn’t want to gross out Rachel by going in the loo in our room, so I ran like a maniac across the hotel suite with my butt cheeks squeezed to find the most private bathroom. My rear end was making such crazy loud noises I was dying laughing and crying out in pain at the same time. I went back and forth to the bathroom so many times during the night I kept apologizing to my poor bedmate, Rachel. At least now she knew what it felt like to be kept up all night.

The next morning, when I saw Casey, she just shook her head slowly. No words.

“I think I know what childbirth is like now,” I mumbled like a zombie.

As we got ready to play baseball in the sticky, blazing Caribbean sun, I kept dashing off to the bathroom. Every time I went I thought,
There
cannot
be anything else left in there!
But there was. I was terrified that I was going to have an accident in front of Ben diving for a fly ball or running to first base. Once, in junior high, my old boyfriend Ryan was so sick during a baseball game he pooped his
white
pants in center field. He didn’t show up to school for three days after that. What if I pooped my shorts on
The Bachelor
in front of 8 million viewers? I’d have to move to Antarctica and live with the penguins.

The long commute turned out to be a godsend because by the time we arrived at the baseball stadium, home of the Carolina Gigantes, everything seemed to be out of my system. Chris Harrison chose Blakeley and me to be team captains, and then we had to pick players schoolyard style. Since we had an odd number, it made sense that Swiss cheeseball Lindzi would play for both teams. I chose Kacie B—she walked like a football player so I assumed she’d be athletic—Casey, and Jamie. Blakeley got Emily, Jennifer, and, last but not least, Rachel. Unfortunately, she just didn’t strike me as Sporty Spice. I’m pretty sure if you asked her to haul ass it would take two trips. I felt bad that I didn’t pick my friend but I
really
wanted to win. The reward was a team group date with Ben. It may have contributed to the demise of our friendship, which was already on shaky ground. Rachel had been very grouchy from PMS and was starting to pull away from all the girls in the house.