This is a story about a guy losing a bet and having to watch an entire episode of “The Bachelor.”

After losing two straight games of bowling, I threw my fish-encrusted bowling ball down the lane on a pivotal shot; it veered hard left on a slow arch toward the gutter or one far left pin.

In a grand display of showmanship, I crumbled to floor and buried my head in my hands.

Yes, dear reader, the aforementioned guy would be yours truly.

When I started trying to write this week’s column this week, I was tensed up with a barrage of thoughts and opinions on current events, but I had few words to offer on any of them. If you can’t do something right …

So I decided to give the readers of my columns this confession: I watched an entire episode of “The Bachelor” … and it didn’t end with my slowly and repeatedly pounding my cranium against the nearest wall. In fact, I found it strangely fascinating. Like a car crash, I just couldn’t look away.

Now first, the backstory: I lost a bowling bet to my girlfriend after dropping two games of bowling. I then did what all smooth men do in that situation: I upped the stakes — double or nothing.

I bet that if I lost the game, I’d watch an entire episode of “The Bachelor” with her.

Needless to say: I’m stupid. And if you haven’t caught on, we’re both uncompetitive people, and did this — even my over-dramatic crumbling to the floor — in good fun.

(Sidenote: If you’re wondering about the whole fish bowling ball business: Yes, I found a bowling ball at the alley decorated with a scene of fish in the ocean. It was awesome, but it did little in the way of giving me good luck.)

So like a good gentleman, with his tail between his legs, I braced myself for a few weeks until it was the chosen time to pay up. First off, who knew that show was an hour and a half long?

Key No. 1 to surviving a full episode: Get judgmental in a fun, lighthearted way. While I usually aim to be an empathetic person, I threw that to the curb and assumed the worst of everyone on that show. An attorney and a neonatal nurse could be doing far better things with their time and talents.

And it turns out a good dose of criticism and sarcasm toward reality TV characters is fairly therapeutic. Believe me, it wasn’t difficult. It’s easy to dislike and grumble about a grown, rich woman bragging about her nanny.

Just you wait: Corrine will get her own reality show or something very soon. It pays to be crazy and rich on reality TV these days.

Key No. 2 to surviving a full episode: Keep a sense of humor.

Key No. 3: Try not to think too much about what shows like this mean for humanity.

So what’s the moral from this experience: 1. Never bet double or nothing … ever. 2. Make the best of this crazy world … aka: reality television. 3. I don’t have to clear time out my Monday nights to become a regular viewer.