Good news! I have found the absolute lowest-common-denominator television program.
I thought I’d seen the worst of the worst, having cut my reality TV dating teeth on shows like Flavor of Love and Temptation Island. Dating show trash has recently made a comeback with offerings like Love Island, Too Hot to Handle and Perfect Match. Honestly, I rarely watch The Bachelor because it’s too high-brow, too wholesome, too family-friendly. It’s the Masterpiece Theater of banging-it-out-on-TV.
Turns out, this one is the worst.
Give me trash or give me death.
(Please don’t give me death.)
Now, I’m not mocking these shows because I love them so much. They are pure entertainment. For me, there’s no better escape than watching pretty/drunk people make the kind of mistakes I can laugh at from the safety of my couch/middle age.
Just when I feared the bottom of the barrel had been good and scraped, Peacock rolled out the delightful Couple to Throuple.
I swear I am not making this up.
Per the series’ description:
Four couples new to non-monogamy spend a month at a tropical resort, where they freely experiment with bringing a third love into their relationship. Cameras follow the couples 24/7 as they meet, mingle and date a whole host of singles, all of whom are experienced in polyamory. At the end of their time in paradise, the couples must make the ultimate decision — whether they will commit to life as a "three," go home as they arrived or even decide they were never meant to be together and leave separately.
Let me get this out of the way first—who you love (literally and figuratively) is none of my business. Whatever you do and whoever you do it with is your call, not mine. Further, if your right to love whomever you want comes into question, I will fight for you.
Years ago, in the early days of the internet, I had a friend who was polyamorous. I never met him in person, but we were part of an online discussion group and we all used to read each other’s blogs. He had two female partners and they had a family, pets, a mortgage, etc. They were happy and they made it work. They were a bunch of sweet hippies and there wasn’t anything salacious about it. I don’t know where they are now, but I have no reason to believe they didn’t keep on keepin’ on. I also know some guys who are married to each other but in an open relationship, which has worked for them for a number of years.
That said, would I be polyamorous? Absolutely not. The idea of polyamory isn’t my jam, likely because I am so territorial that I won’t even share a bathroom on a girls’ trip. And Fletch is a handful enough on his own. If I had to go around turning off stove burners from two people, I’m not sure how I’d deal.
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