what i did for love

Dating Naked: There’s No Crying in Naked Dating

A wise woman once said, “People show you who they really are.” That wise woman was Oprah, and I’m really sorry to bring her into this. But I feel like last night’s Dating Naked dater Moenay needs the wisdom of Oprah, all the mothers in the world, and that one brutally honest friend nobody likes to talk to rolled up into a ball and thrown at her repeatedly until the message gets through.

She’s a beautiful cruise-ship dancer who does not understand why she’s so unlucky in love. I’m confused, too! She’s gorgeous and travels the seven seas delighting people with her dance moves. How can she be single? She asks herself this same question every day, I guess, because it only takes her about three seconds to start crying, wondering if she’s really going to end up all alone. Moenay is just too sweet for the twisted world of nude-dating competitions.

Still, I bring up Oprah to say: When a man physically resembles a walking human penis (veins and all), there’s a good chance he’s going to turn out to be walking, talking dick. Like Mike, Moenay’s fellow dater. He’s a greasy-seeming cool DJ/radio host/band member who thinks his crazy schedule is what keeps him from building a serious relationship. It has nothing to do with that hair-gel usage, no sir, no way. Or those earrings. Nope. Ladies can’t handle his schedule.

Let’s see what happens when sad Moenay meets DJ Human Phallus. Maybe love? To the dates!

Date 1:

Moenay and Mike strip down and prepare for their magical Jet Ski date. Moenay’s assessment of Mike: “Penis looked fine. It’s doable.” Mike is all: “DAMN. Moenay is perfect.” They hop on the Jet Skis and zoom around the lagoon. VH1 introduces us to the Jet Ski crotch-cam, which is the stuff of nightmares.

While Mike says really romantic things like, “I wish I could motorboat her, but I won’t!” And this:

And to think, Moenay almost wrote him off as a classless jerk! For shame. After the second half of their date, where Moenay demonstrates she can assemble some mean ceviche while also looking great naked, she decides that Mike is really a nice guy. Even if he compares her cooking to tangy gummy bears, she’ll know he choked down that bite just for her. I’m beginning to worry. If you were out with Moenay at the bar, now’s the time you’d pull her aside and say, Are you sure you want to go home with this dude? He’s awful and has floral patterns shaved into his dumb head. Unfortunately, on the island nobody can help you. So the two of them go back to the pool and discuss their favorite sexual positions. He gives her the sweet kiss of the greasy, thereby entrapping her forever. For Moenay, there is no man but Mike. For Mike, there is no name but Moenay.

Date 2:

Until Stephanie, that is. 

Upon seeing Stephanie and her “enormous titties” (seriously, men: They are just breasts), Mike actually utters the phrase “Moenay, who?” It seems like even though Moenay is lovely and could be a long-term partner, she’s no match for Stephanie. Stephanie puts a lot of effort into her appearance, so she’s the perfect girlfriend. She has breasts and a voice that both seem to have been altered by helium, so at the very least she is a uniform chemical composition.

He asks her about her goals (“I have many interests I’m looking into”) and her dreams for the future (“I love to have fun and party!”), and then Mike is certain she’s the one. Does that mean the “one” or the “one-night stand” for the evening? Only time will tell.

Moenay is so hopeful. Hopeful that her second date will her one and only. Hopeful that she will not have to go back to her cruise-ship berth alone, night after night. When Dan walks across the sand, she is determined just to let him be the one, because really at this point she’ll take anyone — even this guy, who has an unnaturally white butt. They go paddleboarding, kind of.

Like I said, Moenay is pretty willing to date anyone, but even she cannot get down with Dan. Besides the crazy hippie stuff he spouts about vibrating on a different frequency, he has the craziest eyes of anybody in this world. Like beyond Charles Manson. His stare is the kind of stare that steals the souls right out of children’s bodies.

Cyborg Dan knows his skin husk will expire in 24 hours unless he feeds again, so he feigns interest in Moenay.  He will inhabit her body by the end of the episode.

Back at the evening skinny-dipping session, Moenay really tries to lay claim to Mike by getting naked immediately. Sadly, Stephanie is here to win, and win she does. She wins admission to Mike’s bedroom, specifically, while Moenay excuses herself early, holding back tears. Finally, in the privacy of her Jungle Villa twin bed, she falls asleep to the sound of Stephanie’s helium pleasure moans.

Date 3:

I will give Moenay some credit: Nothing, not an alien named Dan nor a walking phallus who prefers the company of balloons, is going to keep her from facing each day with a delusional optimism. She is sure Date 3 will be the date. So she wakes up, does her hair, puts on her body chain — I mean, c’mon, the girl dating-naked accessorizes — and waits for her Prince Charming.

And waits.

And waits.

And then gets stood up! The dude was too nervous to go on-camera naked! He mentions something about “shaming his mother.” Moenay, somehow, takes that personally, and has another breakdown. She feels like a failure and is certain this means she’ll die alone.

Real talk, Moenay: Do you want some kind of man who thinks about consequences and his mother before going naked on reality TV? Absolutely not! He’s a mama’s boy. You can do better.   

Meanwhile, Mike has a fantastic date with a really cool girl that he does not deserve. Shealyn is spunky, has a cute short haircut, and doesn’t buy into Mike’s bullshit about being in a cool band. Unfortunately, this world is just Mike’s damn smorgasbord and he rejects her because she has “short hair” and isn’t good at limbo. Mike is the worst.

Sad Moenay has to walk back to the villa to hang out with Dan, who is doing his best human-man impression:


Jesus, hasn’t this girl been through enough?

Somehow, back at the pool, Mike is the king of the jungle. Dan’s skin husk is beginning to decompose and Shealyn is wondering when the producers will set her free. But Mike, Mike is living large. He feels like he’s back at the boardwalk on Jersey Shore. He’s got two babes about to catfight over him like he’s the last éclair on the office dessert tray. So what if he’s still telling people he’s 28 years old (even beyond the hair gel, it’s evident he is at least 45)? So what if he only DJs at high-school dances now? He has two ladies. “It’s all up to me,” he says. Feeling the weight of his decision on his shoulders, he chooses to have sex with Stephanie in the shower and save the thinking for tomorrow. There really is no justice in the world.

Moenay, realizing she’s been rejected, makes one last attempt to win her prize. Just to remind you, her prize is this guy:

She sits Mike down and gives him a John Hughes/Cameron Crowe/high-school PSA-inspired speech. “I care about you,”she says. “Don’t choose the party girl. What’s going to happen when the tequila is gone?” she asks in total earnest. And then kisses him, and struts away certain she has taught him to think with the right head.

Mike sits alone for a moment, watching “dat ass” depart. “Choices,” he thinks, “are heavy. Heavier than Stephanie’s boobs. Did someone say boobs? BOOBS!” And his choice was made.

I’m going to go ahead and skip the final ceremony just to send a little message to Moenay. I’ve been on your team for like 50 minutes here. But now you’re like that friend who keeps asking why she’s single while crying into her Pinot and I have to console you over dinner instead of eating my pasta. And then you ditch me with the bill to go meet up with that greasy DJ you met the other night, the one who is not deserving of your wonderful inner self. I can’t help you. Even Oprah can’t help you. Only you can help you. Also, stop crying so much. It’s called Dating Naked, not Crying Naked. There’s no crying in naked naked, okay? Read this Dear Polly column and make better choices. But good work on that body chain. You looked great.

Most-awkward naked activity of the episode: Using your breast as a drink holder.

GIF Reporting by Dianna McDougall.

Dating Naked: There’s No Crying in Naked Dating