Let me begin with this reality: if you’re a contestant on the third or fourth season of a reality show, dammit, you should know better.

How is it that no one on Bravo’s “Top Chef” knows how to compose a soufflé? As a new contestant, you’ve seen earlier seasons and know quite well what led to the downfall of those who’ve come and packed their knives before you. Given this, why haven’t any of them committed several unbearably decadent dessert recipes to memory before signing all their paperwork and racing off (along with their kick-ass secret ingredients) to the test kitchens?

Now unless you’re on “American Idol,” there is not a single occasion where singing would be viewed as a favorable means of impressing a man. Pull off your shirt, give him a lapdance, or gurney up and take an ambulance ride for the team, but for the love of reality television, there should be no yodeling, no songwriting, and certainly no flashy bel canto techniques–no matter how dire the circumstances. Have the contestants of “The Bachelor” learned nothing from those who’ve come (and humiliated themselves) before them? Drama and catfights might make for ratings (and even real life dating) but not for publidating. If you hope to woo him by reciting poetry, you might as well soil yourself.

Now, onto drama-dearest: the idea is, you’re not supposed to like her. Shayne Lamas (daughter of Are You Hot Or Not Lorenzo) is one of the contestants on this season’s "The Bachelor"—the uncircumcised London edition. In response to what makes her high-maintenance, the air-bronzed 22-year-old listed the five things she believed mattered most when it came to her appearance: cars, shoes, (ohmigod) handbags, sunglasses, and watches. "With those things covered, no one cares what you’re wearing on your body." I’ve paraphrased, but I can say with certainty that if it’s the producers’ job to make us roll our eyes when she speaks, they should start updating their resumes.

By design, these reality shows set you up to root for (and against) someone, and even if you begin watching only to mock the show (and the girls who somehow think it’s a brilliant idea to bust into song when getting to know a man), you inevitably find yourself having preferences. Shayne is the girl America should hate. Well, count this American girl out. Shayne might just be a spoiled scapegrace with a penchant for shoes and theatrics (and not merely because she’s an actress for a dying), but I like her, really like her. As much as they try to emphasize the importance of her suitcase chockablock of shoes, she’s still real, as real as we can tell from our sofas, of a person we don’t really know. When Matt, this season’s Bach, implied she was too young for anything serious, she agreed as it pertained to marriage and then called him out, arguing most men, even at 30, aren’t really ready to be married. At the end of the day, I think we all like people who are comfortable enough in who they are that they don’t apologize for it. It makes them endearing. I love seeing people get unglued, going a little crazy, because really those who are too tempered and neat with their emotions seems to lack passion and depth. "Mature," they might say. I say, "yawn." We all need people in our lives who need, who tell you when they’re scared even if they know it makes them look weak… and we can only hope they share our size in shoes.