There is something exceptional about being from Maine. I don’t mean to brag; I’m just simply stating a fact. Frankly, I’m not the only person who notices this. I’ve lived many places in my 28 years, and regardless of where I go, people seem downright infatuated with my home state. Sure, I got questions about whether or not my parents’ home had indoor plumbing (it does) and if my dad is a lobsterman (he isn’t). But overall, most of the reactions went along the lines of, “You’re from Maine? Oh Maine. How I love Maine.” One boyfriend even listed “place to visit in Maine” as one of the reasons he dated me. (He had other reasons too. I’m actually quite awesome.)

I think part of the reason we’re able to keep up this rather mystical reputation is that we’re careful about who we let out into the wild. Over the last few years we’re sure only to send out actors we know will be Oscar nominees (Anna Kendrick), politicians who’ll serve as non-crazy alternatives to the norm (Snowe and Collins) and entrepreneurs who really give something back to the world at large (like you don’t actively thank the inventor of the ear muff each and every winter day).

Yes, historically we’ve excelled at reputation management. But recently we’ve fallen behind. We’ve slipped. We’ve let a few unexceptional people take on a national role. And no good can come from this.

By all of this I mean that starting Monday, on ABC primetime, the newest Bachelorette is a lady from Maine.

Don’t get me wrong. I love watching the Bachelorette. I’m not one of those people who doesn’t have a TV, pooh-poohs reality shows and only listens to NPR. Sure, I listen to NPR, but I also spend a lot of time catching up with Pregnant in Heels (that show is amazing) and Braxton Family Values. While I will watch just about anything that comes in front of me, my real love is the Bachelor franchise.

It’s not because I just want two crazy kids to find love in this mixed up crazy world. I mean, I do want that. I just don’t want to spend my precious TV time watching that. I go to reality TV for one reason and one reason only: to watch a train wreck.

From slutty dresses that actually defy gravity to boob jobs that also actively defy gravity, The Bachelor and The Bachelorette never fail me. Each season brings new bartenders, administrative assistants, hair stylists and nannies into the mix that are overly eager to air their dirty laundry, their fake tans and their quests for fame for my delight and schadenfreude each and every Monday night.

And this season it’s a girl from Maine. The deep sense of pride I feel for my state compels me to support this woman. I feel the need to take to the Internets and write in ALL CAPS that everyone should just leave her alone. Because that’s what you do for fellow Mainers. But my true love is really getting enjoyment at the expense of others. And for that, I will turn in on Monday night, with high hopes of drunken screaming matching, hot tub escapades and love gone wrong.

More from Joy:
When One Date Would Be Too Many
Turns Out, ‘I Have Mono’ Isn’t A Great Pickup Line
The Truth About Weddings As a Pick-Up Spot

Joy Engel lives and works in Portland, Maine where she tweets far too much and solves the occasional murder-mystery while riding around on a bicycle. Everything she writes is her personal opinion and does not necessarily represent the views of her employer or its clients.