After initial introductions, the competition takes off with a series of contests in which the ladies can earn individual dates and increasing amounts of one-on-one time with the cowboy. Cameras roll as the couples head off for secluded romantic escapades, chatting it up and, often, kissing (sometimes quite passionately). The contestants are also expected to pitch in on chores around the ranch, and the cowboy often wanders by to check on their progress -- and to comment on how the manual labor suits their city-dwelling style. After a few days, the cowboy narrows the field from four to two women, sending the losers home with canned words of comfort ("I love that you're outgoing and fun," for example). The remaining hopefuls are given one last chance to impress him on a date before he makes his final selection.

More than just another reality copycat, Girl Meets Cowboy actually steps up some of the iffy stuff viewers are already familiar with from other shows. It narrows the contestant field, promoting the idea that any man can find love among four drop-dead gorgeous (and shapely) women. It also shortens the length of the contest, assuming that the same man can adequately judge a woman's character based on a few brief encounters. Like its dating-competition cousins, the show puts the man in the driver's seat, giving him the power to end relationships on a whim and send contestants home brokenhearted (or as brokenhearted as you can be after knowing someone just a day or two). The set up breeds plenty of resentment and hurt feelings among the women, who resort to sabotaging one another's dates and talking trash behind their opponents' backs -- all of which just fuels the controversial fire that sells reality TV.