‘The Bachelor’s’ choice? Nobody!

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But no! Wait! Brad needs a moment! Brad actually put a finger under his collar and loosened his tie before taking a mini-tour of the lawn as DeAnna hilariously pulled up her dress in the background. It was at this moment we began to suspect what was to come. It was perhaps the most pitiful scene on American television since Jessi Spano collapsed in the arms of Zach Morris after ODing on caffeine pills.

“I can’t give you any promises that I can’t keep,” said Brad before slinging the mighty “I have to say goodbye.” Fair enough. Until the lady demands an explanation. An excuse. A gift card to the Olive Garden. Something. Because before limoing off into the world of E-list celebrity, DeAnna first wished to show off her BS detector.

“Do you look at me like I’m a friend?” she said.

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No. Well — what then?

Brad’s got nothin’ but a “Do you know how much I care about you?” Which he underscored by telling DeAnna he pretty much never wanted to see her again. And stay away from his identical twin, too.

It was clear that Brad was desperate for DeAnna to be on good terms with the dumption, as evidenced by his jaw-clench of self-rightousness: “You’re closing me out here, aren’t you?” he said as she stepped in the limo. Oh, go open another “Cocktails & Dreams,” Brad.

DeAnna bleeped off into the afternoon. The show ended with Brad gazing mournfully upon his sparkly Rock of Not the Least Bit of Love and a promo for Tuesday’s broadcast of “After the Final Rose,” at which a goth-clad DeAnna seems to be sporting the traditional black nail polish of mourning.

Now, all three of these people can go take a seat at the end of a very, very long line of people for whom I weep, especially since none of them seem to have any concept of how to properly use singular pronouns (“When a person tells you that they love you, they…”). But, oh, we do love our happy endings.

For the time, however, we carry with us at least one shred of honesty from this show: That really was the most dramatic rose ceremony ever.

Mary Beth Ellis, author of Drink to the Lasses, runs BlondeChampagne.com from the Washington D.C. area, and sincerely hopes that you accept this rose.

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