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Every Wednesday, Senior Writer Allison Hoffman recaps the previous night’s episode of the glory that is Millionaire Matchmaker. For previous Matchmaker coverage, click here.

As we recently noted, Patti Stanger—La Matchmaker herself—is moving the show to New York. After watching last night’s episode, we think we know why: She’s worked her way to the top of L.A.’s douchebag totem pole, and now it’s time to go.

This week’s d-bag is Will Ratner, a reasonably good-looking 27-year-old who is spinning his wheels—Mercedes rims, if you must know—while he waits to inherit $40 million from the family business. (Is he related to the San Diego Ratners, Jewish garmentos who a made a fortune manufacturing Navy uniforms during World War II? Or maybe the Cleveland Ratners? Or none of the above?) Unlike Patti’s last dauphin, oil heir Jason Davis, Ratner comes across as more or less functional—he neither has a monkey nor talks about farting, for example. Will had a girlfriend, whom he really loved, and who stood by him while he explored the full range of L.A. careers: sports agent, investment adviser, restaurateur. But, you know, as he grew more successful, hotter women started hitting on him, and eventually, well, he had to start sleeping with them. But now he tells Patti he does not want to be at 35 the man he is at 27. Though it is hard. “Women want to get with me all the time, but I usually turn them down,” he says. “I can sacrifice a 10 bimbo for an 8 with a brain.” “Does the term a-hole mean anything to you?” Patti inquires.

Patti goes out and finds him a lovely, engaging date: Nequisha Risser, a sensible travel and meeting coordinator for an aerospace company. A little Googling reveals that, like all the other girls so far this season, Nequisha harbors model/actress/whatever aspirations. So, in her spare time, she appears on custom car calendars, works fights as a ring girl, and also models for something called Hollywood Poker Girls. This despite the fact that, as Will helpfully informs her, she isn’t as hot as some of the other girls Patti introduced him to.

Off they go to Vegas—accompanied, awkwardly, by Will’s personal assistant, a sneering girl named Ariel. Nequisha is smart enough to know what’s what, which is that Will and Ariel are having some kind of a thing. “Why would he come to me for help if he’s sleeping with his assistant?” Patti wails when she finds out. “I have got to get to the bottom of this!” Alas, all that lives at the bottom of that well is slime. Bye-bye, Will!

It would all be just terrible if Patti hadn’t managed to unearth Ayinde Alakoye, a man with a smile like Tiger Woods’s and, apparently, none of the baggage. At 37, Alakoye is a confirmed commitment-phobe—something to do with his parents’ divorce and his father’s subsequent murder, so for once we can cut someone on this show some slack—and desperately wants to find happiness. He’s normal, because he grew up in Washington, D.C., and after a false start as a professional beach volleyball player he got into advertising sales, and now has some kind of radio start-up. Also, he volunteered for Obama! So, basically, if Patti can’t help this one, she doesn’t deserve to call herself a shadchan!

Patti introduces Ayinde to Joslyn Pennywell, a nice girl who hails from Lucky, Louisiana. (Look it up! Yes, on Wikipedia!) Joslyn also wants to model—she made it to the seventh round on America’s Next Top Model a couple of years ago—but we can forgive that, because, like Ayinde, she just seems so nice! They go on a helicopter ride over downtown L.A. together, holding hands the whole time. Afterward, they go to a Moroccan restaurant in Hollywood and watch a belly dancer shake her booty. Now they are officially dating! So, that’s it: The last nice guy in L.A. is taken. Eastward, ho!





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