If for any reason my beloved and I ever became unbeloved, I would do the following things:
1. Apply to go on the Bachelor
2. Demand to be treated like a princess.
3. Insist that absolutely nothing in the whole world terrified me more than horses, and my worst nightmare would be a date where I rode horses on a beach in Spain.
4. Promptly be set up by the producers to go on a one-on-one date in Spain on the beach with horses.
5. Enjoy every minute of it.
6. Insist that the Bachelor "buy" me the horse, which somehow the producers will absolutely arrange if I agree to name him "NEIL LANE JEWELERS", which absolutely I will do.
7. Reject the Bachelor's rose and live happily ever after with NEIL LANE JEWELERS the horse.
8. Gain millions of twitter followers, as all bachelor/ette alumni do.
I suspect as much from Selma. She climbed that mountain much too fast to actually be afraid of heights, hate the desert, or wear nothing but 6 inch heels. (aside: SIX INCH HEELS. I would rather be a foot binding woman in 1930's China.)
But if Selma wasn't faking it, can you IMAGINE how angry she was not to go on the "Pretty Woman" Prostitute date? So. Angry.