How Twitter Convinced Me, A 23-Year-Old Dude, To Watch 'The Bachelor'

by Daniel Markowitz
"The Bachelor" is a show for those who buy into the sappy idea of true love. "The Bachelor" is a show for those addicted to drama and heartbreak. “The Bachelor" is a show just for girls.

If these statements are supposed to be true, then why have I found myself, for the first time, extremely invested in this season of "The Bachelor?"

I'm none of these people. In fact, I'm quite the opposite. I'm a man's man, a guy's guy and even a dude's dude (but definitely not a bro's bro. No one wants to be a bro anymore, let alone the best friend of a bro).

So then, how do I justify this new interest?

My scapegoat: Twitter.

As humans, we have a need to be a part of the conversation. We want to be in the know at all times. This is, of course, a result of the social pressure to fit in. No one wants to be the guy at the water cooler dishing lukewarm takes on last night's pop culture event.

But here's the thing, water cooler talk is no longer confined to the water cooler.

This is partly because your bougie roommates got a Brita, and because the eager-to-please HR department at your job converted to bottles years ago. But this is mainly the case because “the conversation” happens immediately online and primarily on Twitter.

Where does this leave me? Well, for a while, it left me on the outside. For years I heard people talking about "rose ceremonies" and "island getaways," and I never really cared. But it has become impossible to go on Twitter during the airing of "The Bachelor" and not feeling like you are missing out. So I bit.

I'm part of the conversation. Due to the wonderful world of Twitter, I too can scream my insignificant beliefs about vain people into the void and await the rush of gratification that comes via like or retweet.

This experience has taught me it truly doesn't matter what topic we are talking about or what commentary we are providing as long as we've thrown our two cents in. Saying anything, and I mean anything (#OMGDidThatJustHappen), simply feels better than not saying anything at all.

Cue the non-conformists. Go ahead and call me a follower. Say my generation is more obsessed with people's opinions of us than with trying to be individuals. But before you start throwing your accusations down from your pedestal, I dare you to walk up to a stranger and tell them you've never seen any of the “Star Wars” movies.

Even if you've never had the slightest interest in the "Star Wars" series, I guarantee you'll leave that interaction feeling like you're missing out. I am aware there is a huge difference between “Star Wars” and “The Bachelor,” but I think an outsider will feel a similar degree of FOMO when confronted by either series' hardcore fans.

When everyone is always talking about something, it becomes hard to stand outside in the cold of ignorance for too long. Also, I'll be over at 8 pm sharp for the “Star Wars” marathon.

The idea of wanting to feel included isn't a new one. We've all been trying to be included our entire lives.

Being a part of something that is highly sought after or discussed makes us feel special and like we matter. It's the reason why we go to crazy extents in order to get into exclusive clubs -- such as buying fake IDs or writing Pen15 on our arms.

All I'm trying to say is: I believe half the time we watch things it's solely to make sure we stay in the loop and that's totally okay.

Everybody and their mother is watching “Making A Murderer” so they aren't the only ones who haven't. I'm sure it is good but I'm also sure many of the watchers just wanted to say they watched it.

It comes down to the fact we all want to be there when “the moment everyone is talking about” occurs. It's like everybody is saying “Hey, look at me, I'm here too and this is what I have to say.”

So, do I care about “The Bachelor?” No -- not yet, at least. But am I going to be watching “The Bachelor” and commenting in real-time via Snapchat? You betcha.

This 23-year-old male is about to embark on this emotional rollercoaster to see if dreamy-eyes, chiseled-chin Ben can find his soul mate (AKA the girl he dates until the reunion show) because, “Hey, look at me. I'm here too, and this is what I have to say.”