S1:E6 I KNOW you’re spending this very moment wondering what your housewives did last night MORE than if you can sneak out of work early because your boss is on the phone with his non-wife. I’m feeling particularly excited to shake hands with my cheese plate appetizer tonight, so I’ll tell you not to leave work early because you could lose your job, and that in the mean time, I’m going to give you something fun to read about women you only care about for an hour each week…and even half of that time is spent figuring out where you’re going to get dinner delivered from.
Last night started out with more of Mary’s disgust with her daughter always raiding her closet and stealing her clothes. She was so fed up with it, actually, that she installed one of those locks on the doors that only unlocks when she puts her finger down on a pad and her fingerprint is read. However, Mary keeps forgetting to lock the door, so her daughter keeps stealing her clothes. This was about as interesting as one of those books for babies that doesn’t have any words in it, but instead has pictures of caterpillars with different skin textures that are meant to Einstein baby brains or something.
Cat spent the whole episode on the verge of crying because her friend in Britain committed suicide, which is quite sad. It’s also quite sad that her husband was traveling with the President and therefore unavailable to comfort her, although he probably didn’t see it that way. So she spent her time looking to her daughters to make her feel better, especially Jade, who came home from school one day having gotten an A+ on a two hour, 120 question math test, only for her mother to respond to it with an “well, I cried in public last night.” She must have been asking for her luck back.
Stacie spent the episode teetering back and forth between the adorable Salahis, who were looking to find an apartment or house or condominium in the city so they wouldn’t have to sleep in the Four Seasons hotel whenever they left the vineyard. Michaele asked Stacie to help them with their real estate search, and one of the qualifications for the kind of house or apartment they’d want was that it’d have to be capable of holding between 200 and 250 people, which is how many people they entertain on average, but isn’t how many people enjoy it or will tell someone about it the next day. Stacie asked Tareq for his financial records, and he refused to provide them, which means either he’s invested all his money in single colored Cosby sweaters or he’s spent it all in breeding Dobermans; his possession of which is meant to convey how much of a security risk his mother poses to him. But again, she’s in her 80s if not 90s, which puts her right at the time when fuzzy caterpillar books are making their comeback. Stacie asked exactly how much money Michaele and Tareq were willing to spend on a house, and Michaele said anywhere between $100,000 and $12 million, which might as well be the only two numbers she knows. Tareq clarified they were really looking for something around 8, but didn’t specify billion, trillion or hundred thousand, and Stacie started to suspect they were broke. They are, and we learned that when Stacie (rightfully so) dug up some information on their Oasis vineyard (which is totally not an Oasis because everything there is dead), and it was revealed it was not operational. However, Tareq had quite the serious plans lined up for the place, and while he was explaining them to a high from starvationed Michaele, we realized there’s never been anyone we’ve rooted to fail more than him. Not even the nobody commencement speaker you had at your college graduation.
Lynda bought a new house and spent the episode blessing it with sage that Mary said smelled an awful lot like pot. She also recited a Jewish prayer (Lynda explained she converted to Judaism when she was 20) even though she blessed the concrete steps of the house with holy water, which either cancelled out the Jewish prayer or made it a house of religious intolerance and judgment. She also said she always consults her astrological advisor after she makes a decision to ensure it was the right one, but she’s doing that very, very backwards, because anyone whose desperate for $10 to go buy some cornbread will affirm that the blood on that tire swing hanging out back DOES NOT MEAN twin girls died in it. And oh, she blessed everything – especially her refrigerator so she wouldn’t get fat and the room I suppose she’s going to keep her black boyfriend in because his teeth are whiter than hers. Tough luck, Ebong, Maybe chew on some “sage?”
