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Previously on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, Erika Jayne’s vagina came out at a party and started eating guests like the giant plant in Little Shop of Horrors.
Feed me, Seymore!
We open in Erika’s closet, the only closet her gayployee Mikey has been in. This guy is so gay he probably held his breath 90 percent of the time he was forced to incubate in a woman’s womb.
They’re choosing between the most whorish of Erika’s outfits for her new video, and Erika tells us that collaborating on a project and seeing it come to life is one of the most amazing things one can experience. OK Mozart. If someone told her Rome wasn’t built in a day, she’d ask why the fuck not? Did Rome marry a poor person?
She shows off her Chanel Cuban Link chain as Mikey “YAASSSS”es and “EVERYTHANG”s and circle snaps around the world. The camera is sure to get a closeup of the price tag to impress us with, but we know that there’s only a price tag on it so she can return it before her grumpy old man husband finds out she went over her weekly allowance.
Erika pulls out the see through undies Dorit gifted her. Disgusted, Mikey asks “Why do those have a full back?” The only feeling Erika’s ever had up against her ass was either dress fabric or prickly old man nut hair. What kind of friend would try to confuse a friend’s ass? And just in case you’re not on board the Dorit’s A Fucking Moron Train yet, ask yourself this. If you don’t want your fat sweaty husband staring at a woman’s crab cave, why would you buy her see through underwear? Not very well thought out.
Erika tells Mikey about PK’s drive by viewing of her prosciutto palace. Mikey’s heard this story fifty times already, so he knows the proper questions to ask. “Who would wear underwear with a fine dress? Why wouldn’t he tell you he saw your vag? And why was he staring at it? Did it have peanut butter on it?” A. Because you don’t wanna ruin an expensive dress with skidmarks. B. Because she would have closed her legs and C. No it was denture paste left over from Don Rickles’ breakfast.
Having no sense of humor, Erika angrily assures us that “I don’t give a fuck!” Then why are you still on about it ho? The only real offense here was not having a twenty in your twiddle by the time you left that dinner.
She tells Mikey that Dorit is the kind of woman who makes hanging out with women a chore. He hisses that she should only be friends with queens she pays from now on. They pretend to care, and they wear so much makeup that her face looks subtle. This guy looks like he just blew a bus full of sad clowns.
They ugh and girrrrl about how tacky PK is before going back to plan how many times Erika’s gonna grab her labia and say fuck you while she lip synchs to a Gwen Stefani rip off song on the internet.
Dorit is at her rented Jennifer Lopez shame palace getting ready to host a dinner party. PK is behind her shouting “Sensational dahling!” and shaking his jowls sweatily. She asks if her dress is too short, and he says next to Erika Jayne she looks like the pissy nun from Sound of Music that tried to make Maria climb a mountain.
Dorit giggles as he tries to get what is most likely peanut butter off the roof of his mouth. “At least I’m wearing underwear!” I’ve never met someone so obsessed with underwear. It makes me wonder what horrible thing happened to her ass.
Baby Jagger is on the bed pretending to talk on Dorit’s iPhone. She tells him to learn to text until his embarrassing speech impediment is cured and orders one of the nannies to put a pillow over his head if he opens his mouth in front of her guests.
Pwease send me a mommy that tawks Engwish, opoowatoh!
Dorit greets her guests and tells us in four accents that she comes from a long line of women who take pride hosting (men with money at their brothels) and servic(ing sailors)e. She takes party throwing to another level. I mean, she puts flowers on the table! WOWEEEE! Her backyard is tiny and sad and the table is where a pool should be. This house is far from impressive. I have a feeling it was J-Lo’s “Can I Really Stay Married to a Man That Looks Like a Frog?” trial house.
Still, you gotta credit Dorit for trying to hypnotize us with really bad phonics and an overly rubberized face that she’s got money and is the toast of the town with her WILD parties. Her husband is being sued by Barclays for five million bucks at the moment, after filing a ten million dollar bankruptcy a few years ago. This party is definitely on another level. Parking Level Two. Get a job.
The guests arrive and pretend it’s totally normal to have hardly any furniture in your house. Rinna is the only Housewife in attendance, and she came armed with a bottle of wine. It’s kinda rude to bring wine to a rich person’s catered party, but this is Dorit and PK. It’s not bad manners, it’s charity. I expect Rinna to claim that shit on her tax returns this year.
Outside, PK is shaking his second chin and smarming about how the have nots should see how the haves live every once in awhile. “It’s good for them!” Is that why you invite rich people to your house? By the way, you might wanna stop yapping and answer the phone. The lady from Barclays sounds furious.
The doorbell rings and PK runs to it, grabs five pizzas from the Dominos guy and slams the door before paying. The sounds of PK’s growling stomach acts as the dinner bell and everyone sits down to eat. Dorit tells Rinna that she only wants fun at her parties, no fighting. Rinna laughs in her suffocating monkey way and says that’s good because she’s been to some dinner parties with some serious fighting and old ladies refusing to apologize for stuff in between courses.
Now that Dorit has good copped her, PK swoops in, pepperoni dangling from his face. He asks “Are you an analytical person, Lisa Rinna?” Rinna stares at him blankly and wonders to herself if this is the right time to get him to buy his wife a duster. “The kind of person who thinks ‘maybe I shouldn’t have said that?’”
Rinna knows that Dorit was given this chance to pay tiny house rent for a year in return for being Vanderpump’s attack dog, so she nods wildly and assures PK that she’s already apologized for being hard on the other Lisa. He swallows a slice whole, staring at her. “And why? Why were you hard on her?” Why does your fat face shake like it’s got it’s own subwoofer in it blaring Missy Elliot on a loop? It’s a night of questions.
Rinna, like she’s talking to a baby, explains that she needed something from Vanderpump that she wasn’t capable of giving: an apology for something she most likely didn’t do so that Rinna could avoid being the only jackass on the Lymehausen Train.
PK explains that you can’t put your head on someone else’s shoulders. You can, howver, put someone’s ass on your face in return for a garage apartment. Has he mentioned he knows the celebrity Boy celebrity George?
Rinna is just blinking at him. It’s not bad enough she has to chew fast food on camera? She has to sit here and listen to some fat fuck with a fake accent give her the business? PK loves Vanderpump, dammit, and Rinna better watch her step. PK’s friend Elliot Spitz, publicist to the CELEBRITIES, pipes up. “I love Lisa Vanderpump as well. What a lovely spirit,” he coos gently.
It was obvious this queen was full of shit before he even opened his mouth. Even his name is a lie. Elliot is a Swallower if I’ve ever seen one.
He continues: “Life is subjective. We see everyone from where we are. There are times to talk and times to think. One bird in hand is worth more than every bush in Beverly Hills. Our insides are our outsides with less makeup. Waste not want not and the postman always rings twice even though he just wants to run away and become a fireman. You see?”
Rinna sees just fine. This homo is off his damn meds. She imitates his bs whispery voice and does hand ballet, naming him the word dancer. She gives him a good Yelp review anyway. “You’re amazing. So gentle. So kind! So whispery. Does your throat hurt? Do you need a Ricola? Riiiiicolllaaaaa! I love that commercial. I was up for that part. I didn’t get it, but I’m fine with it. I could have been on a mountain somewhere in the Swiss Alps working instead of being here to meet you and YOU’RE AMAZING YOU SOOTHE ME MORE THAN A RICOLA! Where do you get your skin tinted? Is that sienna? I LOVE ALL SHADES OF ORANGE. Also oranges. Not grapefruits though. Most fruits I like. You’re a fruit I like. No a fruit I LOVE! I WOULD JUICE YOU ELLIOT SWALLOWER!”
He shushes her like she’s a flat headed baby. “Hang on tightly, let go lightly.” She blinks a few times and tries to think of the song lyrics he’s reciting so she can join in on the fun. Rinna loves karaoke. “When the moment is bleeding, toss it to the wind.” She’s not sure if he’s yammering about Vanderpump or her own impending menopause chapter, but she chooses the first path.
“I did let that bleeding moment go, Swallower! I did! It felt amazing! I’M FREEEEEEE! I’m bleeding right now? WHO CARES?” PK sucks oregano out of his teeth as he starts on his neighbor’s slice. “But you didn’t let it go, did you? A year later??” Dude, you’re too fat to be a housewife. Also, you have a dick (allegedly). Stay in your lane. You’ve got enough drama with FICO.
He’s not letting up on her, so she whips out the big guns. “My dad died and I held his hands while he flew to Heaven. It was the best flight ever. The attendants had the sense of humor of Southwest workers, but you didn’t have to remember to call in twenty four hours before the flight to get into a decent boarding group. IT WAS AMAZING!”
PK nods, as if the dead dad answer was sufficient. He can’t really top that, so he whips out his phone and orders Papa John’s online while Rinna talks about how being there through someone’s death makes everything seem small. Well, except for PK. He’s still really big.
Before Swallower can tell her the night is always darkest before the dawn is tough on grease, she blocks him. “I had a moment and I’m staying true to my truth. Dusters. Dusters are my truth. Now call me next time on QVC and buy your sister one she’ll LOOK AMAAAAAZING BABY!”
As PK burps up the last gasps of his ninth piece of pizza, Rinna tells us that this dick is telling her how to think and how to act and “It’s shutting me down.” She will sit with this feeling and nod and smile through the next ten episodes before losing it and accusing PK of forcing her to tell everyone that Yolanda has Bitchhausen.
He compliments her on her dead dad move. “That’s massive. That’s a game changea!” He would stand and applaud but his knees are weak. Rinna tells us that this ass can think whatever he wants about her process of bereavement or his “friend” Lisa Vanderpump, but her dad’s death had nothing to do with the LVP fight. I agree. So why did you bring it up to get PK off your ass? While we’re on the subject of not using dead parents to win an argument…
Rinna brings up Eileen losing her mom two days before the reunion and appearing anyway to speak her truth. Swallower is about to jump in with a “Death is in the eye of the beholder of beauty which is the air we breathe and the bile we expel” crap, but PK beats him.
“That’s not fair.” LOL. He says it’s wrong for Eileen to hide her mother’s death until after after the reunion, presumably so that everyone will feel like shit for attacking her bitchery and terrible attempts at mind control throughout the season. Rinna disagrees with him and says that they have a right to grieve their way. He chomps and says it’s all very unfair. Dorit exclaims “I agree with you!” Shocker. Shut up Dorit, you’re garbage.
PK chews and looks at Rinna through his wine glass, disapprovingly. To make sure he doesn’t think she’s using parental deaths as a defense, she says “Eileen lost six family members in a year!” OK reel it in. You’re winning.
PK is about to argue, but the doorbell rings again. Rinna sighs. She’s worked her entire life to stay away from carbs. She never thought Papa John’s would save her life.
Does this glass make me look fat?
Anyone wonder what’s going on with Kyle? Me neither. The show insists on showing us anyway. Mauri is home from work and tells the family he got a speeding ticket in the mail from when he took his kid driving in a Ferrari at 112 miles per hour. Kyle is mortified. Her mother would have never allowed that. If you’re driving in a car that expensive and that fast, it better be in the car of some rich stranger and your head better be in his lap. Time is money. You don’t risk your own kid’s life, for crying out loud. Hire out.
Kyle wants to spend more time with Mauri, but they’re just so BUSY you guys. He has a humongous company built from the customers he stole off Rick Hilton and she’s got a sitcom based on the scraps of fame she stole from Kim.
She wishes he could work less, we wish she would buy a bra in her own size. Until then, he’ll get richer and she’ll hang out of her tops like a rising souffle.
Eileen’s at home in her kitchen and…it’s really pretty. Eileen’s also dressed…really tastefully. I’m immediately confused. Who swapped out Eileen? A decent kitchen and a cute outfit? Maybe she’s changed.
She got a text from Rinna. “Apparently, my losing six family members last year was brought up at a dinner party somehow…” Somehow? Did you mean somecow? Cuz this isn’t a very deep mystery. It was brought up by the Rinnstagator. That’s not her point, though.
She tells Vince about PK and Dorit judging her for not telling people at the reunion her mom died. He nods and smiles and pretends to listen while he plays with his new strengthening ball so he can get strong enough to play tennis again and get some twenty year old poon on the circuit.
Eileen obsesses over stuff, and she’s off and running. Who are PK and Dorit to judge her? It must be because Vanderpump was so obviously in the wrong last season that they’re trying to use Eileen’s Ten Little Indians storyline to excuse her shitty behavior instead of putting the blame where it really belongs. On Vanderpump. For manipulating…stuff. That’s quite a stretch, but Eileen freaking out over nothing is becoming tradition.
“They’re trying to rewrite history. I was there. I know what happened.” Guess who else was there? Camera men. They got the thirty apologies you insist never happened on film for a comment about your stolen husband being stolen. Give it up, Eileen. You’re making so much progress!
The main problem with the whole “Vanderpump is a manipulator” storyline is that Vanderpump was too smart to get caught. Dorit won’t have that advantage. If you wanna win in the ring, you punch down. And Eileen’s about to. Somehow, the producers have found a way to achieve the impossible: they’re getting me to root for Eileen.
Eileen is going to have a walk on the beach with Dorit to confront her, which is great because she’s forcing Dorit to drive forty five minutes to get trounced. It’s a classic move of a Malibu beeyatch.
Kyle picks Lisa up for a day at the plastic surgeon and says she feels super ugly. To make her feel better, Lisa starts a convo about the ugliest men in Los Angeles: the rich old dudes everyone marries for money. “Whose husband would you bonk if you had to?” she asks.
Kyle refuses to play this game, because fucking anyone else’s husband would be a step down. When the dude who looks like John Turturro is the hottest guy in your friend circle, it’s time to change cities.
Lisa plays alone. PK would suffocate her and she’d have to call a search team to find his dick in his mangina folds every night, Vinny is cute but probably has VD from the skanks he bangs at Indian Casinos, Mauricio is mouthbreather and has been inside the soul sucking vortex that is Kyle, and Harry Hamlin doesn’t trim his afro bush.
That leaves Erika’s husband, Don Rickles. He’s the richest, and also the oldest which means Lisa won’t have to really do much but feed him and hose him down before bedtime.
Erika and Rinna go to Eden Sassoon Pilates to meet…wait for it…Eden Sassoon! I know. Crazy, right? We know this is one crazy betch because she’s already all over twitter claiming to be a star and text shouting “THERE IS NO SHOW WITHOUT ME!” Even without knowing all that, it’s clear she’s gonna be a great Housewife because of her eyes.
The best, most evil women on these shows have things in common with rodents. Take a look at the OC. Tamra Judge has possum face, Heather Dubrow has gerbil eyes, Vicki has a rabbit mouth. They’re all horrid human beings and super fun to watch. Eden has squinty little hamster eyes. I have high hopes.
For us baldies, Rinna explains that Eden’s dad Vidal is one of the most famous hairstylists in the world. “If you don’t look good, we don’t look good.” But what if we do look good and you have hamster face? You start a pilates studio. Ah, the riddle of entrepreneurship.
Rinna compliments the ceilings and the rowers and the little scanner that reads membership cards. “ARE YOU KIDDING WITH THIS PLACE? IT’S A PALACE!” Erika is very serious today and refuses to smile as Eden compliments her french braid and general prettiness. “Thank you. Thank you very much. Here’s card. It’s shaped like a vagina because I have another personality. This personality prefers you don’t discuss my vagina. Do you have machines that work out my vagina? It’s has a YouTube shoot coming up.”
“Your vagina does?”
“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY VAGINA, MA’AM?”
Over at the plastic factory, Kyle is telling us that she lives in a town of unbelievably gorgeous people so it’s important to make yourself look good with things like caulk, rubber and staples. She tries to convince us that she’s never had a face lift. LOL! Anyone with a TV knows she’s a damn lie. Your hairline doesn’t move to the center of your scalp alone.
Vanderpump asks if they have a vagina tightener for Kyle so the eraser faced doctor has one brought in, and then we cut to the pilates class, where Rinna asks if there’s a machine to tighten her own vagina. Erika is pissed that these bitches are trying to dilute her brand.
Eden tells her that she’ll need lasers, a hacksaw and a turkey baster if she wants to tighten it properly, and Rinna laughs and says she doesn’t need that. “How many kids do you have? Two? You need it.” Rinna laughs and laughs and compliments Eden on how pretty she looks sideways.
The dog at a hydrant pose.
After class, the girls walk to lunch. Rinna stops at a store where her love story took place. Oh hi Dwayne! The clerk is outside kissing cheeks and getting free PR as Rinna launches into her own version of The Notebook. She was working at the glasses store, and Harry picked up glasses one day and she was like omg he’s Harry Hamlin and he has pretty arms and he’s like Jesus but with a bigger bush and more fuckability.
The girls ask if he got her number, and she says no. Just like now, in 2017, he squinted at her, told her to make him eggs and then left a list of shit he wanted cleaned before he got back from work, presumably in The Notebook. AW! HUGS!
Erika doesn’t understand why Rinna would tell a love story that didn’t end with an ass crack stuffed with a folded up IOU for a giant tacky dog crate in Pasadena to live out the rest of her life, but to each her own.
Dorit makes the drive to Malibu to get told off by the always offended Eileen. She’s brought her rented tiny penis car to brag, but softened her arrogance with mom jeans from the 80’s to make Eileen feel better.
The wind is blowing, and Eileen stops her skirt from flying up. Dorit thanks her ten times in twelve accents for not showing her another vagina. I’m honestly worried now about what horrible things vaginas have done to Dorit. She fears that the wind will blow her into the ocean, and I find myself praying that it will happen. Look at that. I haven’t prayed in years. Dorit has brought me back to God. He really does work in mysterious ways. The original manipulator, if you will.
After Dorit jokes about needing a passport to drive to Malibu (which she probably had taken away for accruing massive debt in every country on Earth), Eileen invites her to a party at Camille’s house. Dorit pretends that she doesn’t know who Camille is, and Eileen explains that she’s one of the legit rich fish faces in town. Say what you want about Camille, and I have a feeling Dorit will, but at least she knew how to fuck an ugly dude with a savings account.
Dorit not knowing who Camille is is laughable, especially when she’s modeled her face after Cam’s. Same giant fish lips, etc. If Camille is a facial life jacket on a luxury liner, Dorit is floaties on a dingy.
Eileen stops laughing and brings up last week’s trip to the Escape Room. She says she and Vanderpump get along now because they could conquer stuff together. Now see, if you had that attitude from the beginning you’d have more twitter followers. Better late than never!
Dorit brings up Erika’s vagina again, and Eileen stops her. “I felt for her. She was blindsided and embarrassed.” Dorit is confused by the change in the air. “Wayhl, eet wass just a faux puhss! Little mistakes like thaht strayngthan a relationsheep!” Eileen shakes her head. No. It was mean. And for the record, there is nothing faux about Erika’s puss.
Dorit looks around for some kind of escape, but she’s in a faraway land she doesn’t understand and the rented nannies are all off for the day since there are no cameras around. Eileen says it’s funny that Dorit brought up faux pas, because Rinna mentioned that PK and Dorit commented on Eileen’s life cast members rotating like a Scream movie the past couple of years at the dinner party.
Questioning look. “Dinner pahteh?”
Eileen: Yes. Your dinner party.
Dorit: In the South of France?
Eileen: No. Your house. Last week.
Dorit: My house in Germany? Boca? Such a busy week last week. Have I told you about Boy George? He’s a celebrity!
Eileen: No last week. At your house in Beverly Hills. You had Lisa Rinna…
Dorit: Who would have miso for dinnah?
Eileen: NO. Lisa. Rinna.
Dorit: Is that one of the nannies? Because my son can’t speak and I suspect it’s one of their faults. Or he’s just pretending to be Daniel Day Lewis in My Left Foot. He’s brilliant. My son I mean. Not Daniel Day. What a moody man.
Eileen squints at her and looks her up and down. Is this bitch pretending she doesn’t remember anything? Why yes. Yes she is. She’s also pretending she doesn’t have to have that horrid douchemobile back to Hertz by five.
Dorit tells us that this crazy woman with dry hair is accosting her about something she has no recollection of. “It’s not importehntz to uz!” Eileen tries explaining it again and again, but Dorit just says “celebrity” and “Boy George” and “South of France” a lot while shrugging. Eileen, as stubborn as ever, keeps re-explaining it until Dorit stops her to clarify:
“So you’re saying your problems with Lisa Vanderpump have nothing to do with the death of the clock lady.”
Eileen throws up her hands. “YES!”
Pause. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
Eileen: I DID!
Dorit: Did you? Was it in English? Do you know any other languages? I can say toilet in seven. Boy taught me. George.
Eileen looks around to see if anyone is catching this dodo bird shitting the bed in public.
Dorit: Am I still invited to lunch?
In one scene, I have found God and Eileen has found a new purpose. Take down this Rosetta Stone debacle. You go, sister!
Back at the post pilates lunch, Rinna is Yelping Vidal Sassoon. What an icon! What a genius! The Einstein of follicles! The Tesla of the tussle! THE AQUA OF THE NET OMG I LOVE THAT MAN PLEASE COME BACK TO LIFE AND GUIDE US OUT OF THIS JUSTIN BEIBER HAIRCUT HELLHOLE VIDAL SASSOOOON!
Eden pats her on the wig and says that daddy would have loved Rinna because she’s had the same hair since the Flinstones were on the air and he use to fantasize about Barney Rubble. Rinna will take that one. She’ll believe Vidal’s daughter over that nameless squeaky voiced tramp who tried to diss her coiff a couple seasons back. Interesting that she would bring up Brandi right now, because she and Eden look a lot alike. They’re both hamster faced overly worked on wrecks. Hopefully they both have the same desperate, black souls. This season could use some non vagina related fights.
Eden talks about her family and mentions that her sister was an actress and died of a drug overdose. Before Rinna could ask her if that was the reason she was so hard on Lisa Vanderpump, Eden launches into a story about knowing Kim Twitchards because she did her first movie with Eden’s sister. And Robert Downey Junior. And James Spader. Jesus. Who did the catering on that set? Pablo Escobar?
She’s sure that the film began the drug addictions for all those people, and I can’t wait for her to bring that shit up with Kim. You know poor Twitch still talks back to the screen while she watches Iron Man and wonders sadly why the red robot won’t share a line with her. “WE COULDA HAD ID ALLLZ ROBERT DOWNEY JUNIORZ! HEY! I didn’t knowz yoo good flyz! Dake me with youuuus!”
Rinna invites Eden to Game Night. Oh shit speaking of Twitch. Game night is a classic celebration of her awfulness. Can’t wait!
Kyle goes to Mauri’s office to visit and blabber on about how busy they both are. Literally could not give fewer shits than I do right now. FF.
Camille is back, and this time she’s totally down to Earth, you guys. She’s in a much smaller mall house than the last time we saw her, “and it’s all mine!” I mean, Kelsey still bought it, but at least she doesn’t have to deal with the hairs that ape dropped all over the place every time he took off his clothes. Speaking of Frasier, she won’t. Mostly because she can’t. “Once he closes that door, it stays closed.”
Well, at least he bought you a new door to knock on. Frasier hugs! Her assistant DeDe is nowhere to be seen after embarrassing herself on camera a while back, and her other bigger friendployee Hagrid is off filming a Harry Potter Prequel. There’s a new friendployee named Kimber, and she reminds me of why I love Camille: the power of creative visualization. There’s not a man in the house currently, but Camille makes sure that the new nannysistant is still older than her and slightly less pretty in the event that there will be a man of the house again. She’s stopping his eye from wandering before she’s even met him.
That’s how to plan a life.
Kimber can’t get a bottle of wine open, so Camille sucks the cork right out. In a different time, she could have mentored Erika.
Eileen and Dorit show up and ooh and ahh over the smaller mall. Dorit asks where the Things Remembered is so she can have a keychain inscribed with BOY GEORGE CUZ SHE KNOWS HIM OK? Camille smiles in her pouty, wonky eyed way and mentally pats Dorit’s head. Was Boy George on two number one sitcoms? No? Ok, enjoy the takeout I had Kimber lug in from the Ralph’s in Zuma Beach.
Camille was named most hated housewife ever on her first season, and she’s been trying to make people believe she’s a good person ever since. Which is why she got fired. She still hasn’t learned her lesson, though. She’s already got money, she’s already got fame. All she really wants now is for people to stop spitting proverbial wads at her on Twitter. Is that so much to ask?
She wears a Laura Ashley flower printed poor person dress in her diary room sessions and it’s just sad. She’s really going all out with this “I’m poor, but not as poor as you” thing. Point is, as she puts it, “Fresh house, fresh start.” And you didn’t even have to get a job. That’s called winning.
Erika arrives, and she’s sure to wear a semi transparent white suit to show that she is sporting underwear. She probably won’t speak much the rest of the episode, so letting her ass communicate for her is a good idea. At least a part of her can communicate well.
Over lunch, Eileen congratulates Erika on her ninth number one on iTunes. Dorit looks unhappy. “I don’t gayt why no one listensah to cassetta teeps eenymore. What is this ITUNE?” Erika pretends not to fume inside and insists it’s all kind of ridiculous. “Why?” asks Dorit.
“Because you’re supposed to be twenty and then the shut the door on you at twenty five,” Erika coos, as if she just became a concert pianist/brain surgeon at 97. At the mention of doors shutting, Camille sadly clings at her polyester dress.
Dorit’s MO is to give a compliment before she twists the knife, so she tells Erika that she is still young. Erika laughs, knowing what’s coming. “Well, I’m in my mid forties so…”
Dorit stops her. “But don’t you think that what comes in your forties is a sense of confidence?” Erika shrugs and laughs. “You’ve been forty for a week.” There’s an awkward pause, because Erika’s too mad for this situation and everyone knows to back the fuck away. She laughs and they follow.
Dorit looks confused. She tells us she doesn’t know anything about this Erika person’s music career even though she should. She’s got Boy George living in her garage you guys, and he sure as shit doesn’t share a bathroom with anyone named Erika. How could she be a real celebrity? Plus, Boy George doesn’t feel the need to take baths or brush his teeth or stick to a diet because he’s such a big star. Erika tries really hard and doesn’t exude any kind of star quality so she must be a nobody. “I guess it’s…her hobby?” LOL this bitch is walking on the train tracks right now and I love it.
Erika smooths it over by telling Dorit she’s just giving her shit and that yes, she feels more confident in her own skin at this age. Eileen, not one to miss an opportunity to turn a lunch into a diatribe about how she’s been wronged, takes the cue.
She says that when you’re older you care less and less what people think. Oh Lord, Eileen. Hopefully you’ll get a chance to not care about how Dorit said something you didn’t like at a dinner party you weren’t at for the next five seasons. Eileen continues: “You feel emancipated.” Totally what Abraham Lincoln had in mind.
Dorit is a dodo bird, but she knows where this is going. She says that she didn’t mean to seem dismissive to Eileen the other day on the beach when she couldn’t remember for the life of her who Eileen’s dead mom was or where she ate her miso dinnah.
Eileen squints and says she never said Dorit was dismissive. Then she explains for the twentieth time this hour about Dorit saying blahblahblah dead mom clocks split ends etc etc etc. Then she assures everyone that she wasn’t being confrontational and Dorit snaps “I didn’t say you were!”
Eileen is dumbfounded. “She’s trying to make me a problem when I’m not a problem.” Erika tries to re-explain the situation again and it’s exhausting. Camille, as she does, tries to guess the end of everyone’s sentences, babbling non words with a very serious face to look intelligent. I’ve really missed her.
Now Dorit is mad and Erika is mad and Eileen is mad and Camille is poor and babbling into a takeout salad. Dorit, forgetting what this fight is about or where she is or who these women are, blinks really hard and snaps some random “YOU ARE!” out. Eileen puts her fingers through her brittle hair and rolls her eyes through a squint. “Oh, snap.”
Not sure if she’s referring to Dorit or if part of her hair just broke off. We’ll find out next week!