Phew. There is a lot of work to do around the old Real Housewives Institute today. First, I have to get maintenance to go to the Hall of Taglines and take down the “Best Tagline of All Time” plaque next to Sonja Tremont Morgan of the Trophy dot com Morgan’s classic, “People call me over the top, but lately I prefer being a bottom.” Yes, we are officially moving the plaque to its new home next to Emily Simpson’s season 17 tagline, “If you’re going to waste my time, at least hand me a taco.”
Seriously, it has everything that a great Real Housewives tagline needs: it makes absolutely no sense, it has nothing to do with her character, and it involves tacos. Now, if she said to hand her a sandwich, that would make sense because last season, she was eating a sandwich in a sauna, so it’s at least self-referential. I don’t know that Emily has anything to do with tacos, though I bet one drunken night, she and Emily came up with a whole business plan for a Tex-Mex restaurant called Gina’s Casita. Also, when does anyone waste Emily’s time? Also, if your time is being wasted, when has anyone ever handed that person a taco? Does it make your wasted time more enjoyable? Sure. But does it stop your time from being wasted? Well, maybe a little because now you’re eating, so it’s like multitasking.
Emily’s lowbrow-brilliant tagline (yes, this is a pitch for the back of the magazine) was honestly the best thing about this snooze of an episode. Do we care about the Shannon and Tamra fight? Not really, mostly because I don’t understand it. Ugh, can we ignore it for a little bit longer?
Great, it looks like we can. Which brings me to the next errand I have to run for the Institute, which is launching a full investigation of Heather Dubrow’s staging for her two eldest children to leave the nest. By “leave the nest,” I do not mean leaving Heather’s airport hanger that she calls a home, I mean that they will be leaving the nest that has been frosted onto a window in their home, the same nest that holds two eggs, a symbol for the frozen embryos that she and Terry had never implanted. I wish I was a good enough comedy writer that anything I just put down wasn’t absolutely true.
Heather calls in Max and Nicky (which is short for Nickle Back Dubrow), the twins, to talk about sending them to college. What, exactly, is this room? Is it their garage? Do they just have like a staging room in their house? We know Heather has a room for her luggage. Did she also invent a Getting the Kids Ready for College Room? Has this been its sole and entire purpose its entire existence? Anyway, she’s sending them with all of this furniture, monogrammed sheets, multiple hampers, and microwaves that turn into fridges like some kind of Whirlpool transformer. This is all too much. Nicky is only going to a school in L.A. He’s not even going that far! And they’re not going to use any of this shit. College kids are absolutely feral and you should give them nothing. You should roll up to their dormitory door, say a prayer, and then throw an extra-large box of condoms (or an enormous bottle of PrEP if they’re gay men) at them as you drive away to freedom.
Heather gets calls from both Tamra and Shannon, who are on their way to meet each other for a kind of détente lunch. (Ugh, we’re back here already. That’s cause there is nothing in this episode other than Gina getting COVID and Shane Simpson being on our screens for an entire scene and somehow not being the absolute worst.) Tamra is mad that Shannon “ghosted” her after she left the show, and Shannon is mad that Tamra talked mad shit about her on every podcast that bothered to DM her and ask her to record. Both think that they’re absolutely correct, and Heather doesn’t think they’ll find any resolution.
They do not find any, even though they are at the same restaurant where I once met Kelly Dodd for brunch. (She was amazing, duh.) A lot of the conversation surrounds how much Shannon drinks, and in the middle of that, the server comes over to ask Shannon if she wants something and you can hear the well-lubricated gears in her head turning, and you can see the thoughts flickering across the insides of her eyelids like old Spuds MacKenzie ads. Then, after pause more pregnant than the Octomom, Shannon orders a vodka soda. Good job, Shan.
Yeah, there is no resolution, so you know it’s going to come roaring back at the party on Gina’s friend’s boat. It is a Flam-ingle party, and everyone has to wear pink? I don’t know. I don’t make up these themes. Heather says she looked it up on Urban Dictionary, but she gave some fake-ass meaning. Everyone knows that a Flam-ingle is when you are having sex with a twink in a Chromatica jockstrap, and right before you climax, you stomp on one of his feet so that he hops up and down on one foot and that is what gets him nice and bred. I mean, come on, Heather. It’s simple. It’s right there in the name.
While Gina can’t make the party because she has COVID, instead, we get Eddie, the hot bartender who the ladies try to force to take his shirt off like Me Too never happened, and we also get Taylor Armstrong, hot off of her semi-triumphant turn on Ultimate Girls Trip 2: Return to the Berkshires. I feel like a lot of people are really excited about the Widow Armstrong’s return, but I don’t see the appeal. I think she’ll give us nothing.
Anyway, Jenn, the new girl, is trying to tell the women the touching story of how she fostered many children and finally tried to adopt one, and Shannon interrupts the story to see if the cute boys on the next boat are somehow related to her boyfriend. Tamra then tries to use this as an illustration about how Shannon only cares about herself.
That’s the thing, Shannon does only care about herself. This fight is so weird because it’s just Tamra and Shannon acknowledging that the other is an awful person. Tamra says Shannon drinks too much, only cares about herself and her needs, and doesn’t support people around her when they need her. Yes, this is all true. Of course, Shannon is the needy friend who takes all of your energy and calls at all hours so that your family is like, “Please don’t talk to that crazy lady anymore.” That’s who Shannon is. You have to accept that. Also, Tamra can set a clear boundary and be her friend but tell her, “Um, maybe call a little bit less,” or maybe, I don’t know, don’t answer the phone so much.
Shannon is right about Tamra, who starts yelling and screaming at dinner, telling Shannon that she’s a liar and a drunk. (She appeared slightly overserved.) Shannon says, “I don’t miss this,” swirling her hand between them in the universal sign for uncontained bottomless-brunch energy. Yeah, Tamra is unhinged. She’s angry, she flies off the handle, she says mean things about friends and enemies alike. She’s always been like that and always will. That’s why this fight is insane; it’s like they just got fed up with ignoring how awful the other one can truly be.
But there has to be something nice in there too. Can’t they get back to that part where they’re having fun together, admiring each other’s brazenness, falling naked out of hot tubs, and being rushed to the hospital? That is the kind of fun that this show needs right now, not more warmed-over fights about who is an awful friend. Right now, I feel like the OC is wasting my time, and seriously, why has no one offered me a damn taco.
