Of all the horrors, of all the indignities, of all the messiness of this episode there is one thing that I need to say right off the bat: Carl is not that hard of a name to pronounce! Yes, I am speaking from the privilege of being a native English speaker, but it’s not like there aren’t a ton of Carls in the world that Alexia might have come across at some point. There’s even one on her own network, and you know that Lindsay Hubbard is probably activated enough to throw a bikini in a bag, book a room at Soho Beach House in Miami, and go down there to kick Alexia’s ass for making fun of her man’s name.
But there were a lot of horrors and indignities. The first is the Russian dish Svekolnik which Julia prepares when her daughter Emma returns home from visiting Paris, where she is completely unqualified for her job in PR, is in love with her neighbor, wears stupid clothes, and hasn’t learned a word of French. Oh wait, this is Emma in Paris. My bad. She speaks French fluently and just wants to ride a scooter without a helmet in peace. So Svekolnik is like a cold borscht. When Julia prepares it for her daughter and wife, it looks like she is just pouring beet juice over a Panera chopped salad. It’s like watery iceberg lettuce. That’s going to get a no from me, dawg. I’m sure there are delicious Russian dishes, but I have never been a fan of a cold soup.
As the women start a conversation about Emma’s life abroad, she mentions that she is getting a scooter and there is nothing her mom can do to stop her. Finally, Martina gets Emma to promise to wear a helmet. “But how are we going to check?” Julia asks. You’re not. That’s the problem with kids. They’re going to grow up; they’re going to do stupid shit. They’re going to get their medical marijuana card from some website called Dr. Nug and they’re going to legally smoke pot in your house right under your nose. They’re going to have sex and go on dates and wear slutty outfits and go to raves. They’re going to ride around without helmets and fuck without condoms and dance like no one is watching. (As long as they don’t live, laugh, or love. That is where we draw the line.) The process of being a parent is about not being able to check that they’re safe, not being able to tell them what to do, and hoping that you did a good enough job that they’ll make the right decisions or at least quickly recover when they inevitably make the wrong ones.
Speaking of horrors, what was up with Larsa’s date with that guy Ari, who was cute enough but looked more like an extra from the Entourage movie than someone who Larsa would actually date? They make sushi and flirt, but Larsa says he’s a friend. Why did this scene seem like she recruited him just to have a date scene to throw us off the scent of Marcus Jordan? Why did they have less chemistry than the history department at Brown? Why did they ruin perfectly good sushi rice making those roll abominations? I have no answers, just questions.
We are now back to indignities when Dr. Nicole takes everyone out on her boat. She introduces them to Captain Anthony, who is a hot dude with a big chest and an even bigger beard. He looks like someone who would break your back and then serve you Domino’s in bed, which is my perfect man. Adriana is on the boat, and she’s pretending like she is going to get on this float with him. She gets him to take off his shirt, so he doesn’t get wet and then refuses to get on. “I just wanted you to take your shirt off,” she says. She was not disappointed. Neither were fans at home who might have spent several hours looking for his OnlyFans page — or maybe that was just Larsa and me.
Having a captain like Anthony seems to be a mistake, though. I always tell my female friends that they’re stupid if they get a hot nanny because you don’t need your husband going all Ben Affleck and screwing her and then getting an ugly back tattoo and then marrying his girlfriend from 20 years ago. I need to tell all my dude friends not to have sexy boat captains that will take their tops off in front of a bunch of married women. It’s just like Lisa should have told Lenny not to have parties at their house where it’s just women in their 20s in lingerie trying to find someone to buy them a Lambo.
Now it’s time to vacation in the Florida Keys, which is either a 15-minute plane ride or a three-hour drive away. Julia drives her truck down because her dog has an injury. This is the most lesbionic thing I have ever seen on television, and I watched Xena: Warrior Princess, The L Word, The Real L Word, The New L Word, L Word: The Next Generation, and Batgirl. Larsa is scared by tiny planes, so she takes a car with Marysol, Kiki, and a deck of cards that teach them about things like Dirty Sanchezes and Hot Carls. (Do you know what a Hot Carl is? It’s when you’re lying on a pool deck in the sun, and Alexia can’t pronounce your name.)
Dr. Nicole’s husband, Attorney Anthony, says he will fly all the women down in his plane, which he will pilot. Did you clock that his plane has the logo for his business, Your Insurance Attorney dot com? Wait, they have an $80 million house, a boat, a plane, and her husband is Your Insurance Attorney? Do I need better insurance or to be an attorney because this all seems very unlikely? Anyway, Lisa, who is always late, makes everyone wait 90 minutes for her to arrive. So, if it’s a three-hour drive, but you waste half of that waiting for your friend to show up, is it even worth flying at this point?
Lisa finally arrives, doesn’t apologize, and tells everyone she has a lot going on. Yeah, sis, we all have a lot going on, but if you make me wait on the tarmac longer than Jet Blue, your ass is getting capped. When they arrive at the Isla Bella resort, which looks lovely but strangely empty (you can book their Travel Like a Real Housewife package here), Lisa gets on the phone with Lenny and tells her that the replacement nanny she got for the broken-armed nanny called in sick. She tells Lenny that he may take care of the kids, and he’s all pissed because he doesn’t want to cancel his tennis lessons to take care of the kids.
Here is the thing about Lenny, a case of throat chlamydia that won’t go away: he never wanted to have kids. Well, he did. He wanted kids to make his parents happy and prove he could. He ushered his wife through years of IVF treatment, heartbreak, and all the attendant stress on her body and their relationship. Now that he has the kids, he wants nothing to do with them. In fact, he wants Lisa to raise them far away from him while he sleeps with every woman who moves to Miami with the hope of getting in a Mariah Carey video. Now that the kids are here, Lenny, a bottle of gross tequila that is $80 because the stopper is a crystal skull, is stuck in a life he doesn’t want.
How do we know? Cause he’s already told Lisa that he has a new girlfriend and that she and the kids need to find a place to stay. He doesn’t want to try to get custody, he doesn’t want to help her out, he just wants to go back to living a Tara Reid lifestyle.
But here is what I love about this show, as soon as Lisa told the women this, they all took off their earrings in unison and stormed Lenny’s house to beat the shit out of him. All of their petty squabbles were put to rest to rid this woman of a no-good man. Right now, we also have The Real Housewives of Potomac and The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City. These are two shows where the women fight because they hate each other and would not piss on a coworker if she were on fire. Yes, we love drama, but that is no fun to watch. I want girlfriends who are going to fight but would also, you know, help a sister hide a body if it comes to that. I want real-life Claws, which we’re getting from Miami right now. Damn, I can’t wait to see all the ways these bitches come up with to end this man. Maybe they’ll just change his name to Carl.
