Playing the field Bachelor bank VP has options if reality show

SPRINGFIELD, Mo. -- More than tongues are wagging in The Bachelor's hometown.

While Aaron Buerge works his way through the 25 beautiful women wanting to marry him on ABC's dating reality show, eager paramours in southwest Missouri are making it clear that he has options.

The 28-year-old senior bank vice president is sworn to secrecy about the show's Nov. 20 finale, but he isn't discouraging anyone.

"All I can say is that I'm not married yet," said Buerge, holding up his left hand for inspection. "Regardless of the outcome of the show, marriage is a long ways off."

The town hasn't been in such a tizzy since native Brad Pitt ascended to stardom.

Faxes, resumes and letters with pictures from wannabe wives have been coming in from across the country since Buerge began appearing on the weekly show that is sapping youthful viewers from NBC's Emmy-winning political drama "The West Wing."

Buerge is frequently greeted at local restaurants and bars by that squeal that young women save for hunky men and chocolate. The more reserved swing their hips and flit past as if they haven't a care, while glancing to see if Buerge is watching.

Spike in customers

First National Bank employees also have noticed more women milling about. Some ask about loans or accounts, others sip from the water fountain and leave, bank president Eric Piel says.

The bank even added, "Yes, Aaron Is The Bachelor" to its street front sign that pictures Buerge and Piel to help satisfy the curious.

The family-owned bank hasn't tabulated the numbers since the show began airing in September, but Piel says there's definitely been a spike in new female customers.

"We don't have a special bachelorette account or anything," he said. "You know, open a new account and get an autograph."

Teller Tina Albert, who instigated Buerge's participation in the show, also has noticed more cars coming through the drive-through and outdoor ATM in anticipation of getting a glimpse of Buerge in his office.

"I've had them come through the drive-through and stop and gawk at his window," Albert said. "But we haven't had any real bad ones yet."

Buerge began thinking about settling down in January after suffering a ruptured spleen. Albert figured the show would be a fun way for her boss to meet a mate.

With Buerge's consent, she downloaded a show application off the Internet. ABC crews hit Springfield a few weeks later and the game was afoot.

"He's good-looking and would make some girl a good catch," Albert said. "He's got money. He's stable. You know, what most women are looking for."

Buerge is adding restauranteur to his resume. His Trolley's Downtown Bar & Grille opens in December. He's also a pilot, pianist and philanthropist.

Opened 'pad' to public

Buerge opened his real "bachelor pad" to the public as part of a loft walk to benefit Springfield's Mid-America Singers. Females flocked to see the kitchen counter that the buff, shirtless banker is seen wiping down in show clips.

He also appeared at a show watch party that friends Susan Sommer and Candy Coburn held to raise money for the Alzheimer's Association.

"He's one of my best friends," said Sommer, who briefly dated Buerge. "I'm pretty proud of him, actually. He's having fun with it."

Still, critics poke fun at the show that is down to four bachelorettes: Helene, a 27-year-old New Jersey elementary school psychologist; Gwen, a 31-year-old Pennsylvania pharmaceutical industry consultant; Angela, a 27-year-old Kansas City, Mo., registered nurse; and Brooke, a 22-year-old University of Alabama student.

They're holed up at a California villa, agonizing over which woman will get a rose and a chance at a diamond ring -- causing some to cast the show as a glorified escort service.

Show watchers agree it's a mindless way to waste an hour -- but everyone involved is a consenting adult.

Even Buerge's fourth-grade teacher is a fan.

"It's bothered me to watch a couple of the episodes where Aaron is kissing different girls," said Susan Elkins, who teaches in Clinton, Mo. "I think to myself, 'Oh, that's little Aaron.'"

Buerge insists -- and his close friends verify -- he hasn't changed since the show.

"I've known all along that I'm a big dork," he said. "Unfortunately, now all of America knows what a big dork I am. It's been very humbling."