Every serious relationship has its milestones: Meeting the family, farting in front of one another for the first time, sharing a Netflix account, and, of course, living together. Some can go smoothly, but others can be a bit rockier as Jake and Annie proved this week.
Now engaged, it’s time for Jake and Annie to move in together—meaning it’s time for Jake and Annie to re-evaluate their relationship and contemplate whether or not they’re better off as single cat-people. The whole situation’s harder on Annie, who is used to her apartment being her own space and not used to Jake spilling his Vietnamese food all over the living room and lounging around in his not-so-sexy briefs. (In all fairness, the Vietnamese food was for Annie.)
Exposing the struggle of moving in together isn’t anything new, and Jake and Annie’s individual struggle isn’t even anything new: He’s used to his space, and she’s used to hers. Nothing earth-shattering there. But between Annie’s nervous ranting, which Jake accurately compares to ’90s stand-up, and Jake’s awkward attempts to reconnect, the plot works—and it makes sense within the context of the show.
Because it’s called Marry Me and because the two are (kind of) engaged within the pilot’s first five minutes, we know this is a show leading up to the marriage of Jake and Annie, which means this is a show that will cover everything leading up to the marriage: the engagement, the wedding planning, the uncomfortable-but-necessary conversations, and, yes, living together. None of these events are too unique or exciting in themselves—except cake-tasting of course—so it’s the show’s responsibility to make them interesting, to make them funny and ridiculous while still being relatable. And two episodes in, the show’s doing a pretty good job of it.
Take Annie’s response to Jake moving in: She flips out. Okay, we get that. She starts hanging out in her car. Okay, we get that too—everyone needs their alone time. She decorates the interior of her car and starts hosting parties in it. Okay, that is crazy and hilarious. The show’s trick is starting off with something mundane that anyone who’s ever lived/watched a movie can relate to, and then having the characters deal with the ordinary problem in a totally unordinary way.
On that note, the night’s episode was filled with those ordinary problems—some solved, others… not so much.
PROBLEM: Someone told Dennah she looks 40. Dennah is not 40.
SOLUTION: All of Dennah’s friends are busy with other issues, so she has to go to possibly the worst person for advice: Gil. He sells Dennah on Botox, and she ends up having an allergic reaction that makes her look like one of the scarier patients on Botched.
PROBLEM: Annie is used to living alone, so when Jake moves in, she freaks.
SOLUTION: Since nowhere in her apartment is safe from Jake—there’s even a TV above the toilet that showcases photos of the two, because “poop” and “romance” obviously go hand-in-hand—Annie slowly starts moving into her car. It starts off innocently: She gives herself a pedicure and fibs to Jake about where she is. But it gets worse (or better, depending on your feelings on car-homes), and Annie’s car is soon decked out with curtains, candles, teddy bears, and a cooler full of wine. At least she has her priorities straight.
PROBLEM: Jake notices things aren’t right with Annie.
SOLUTION: Gil, who turns out to be the face of bad advice, tells Jake he and Annie should try open-eye cuddling. For the uninitiated (or, more realistically, the sane), open-eye cuddling involves staring at your significant other for minutes on end without breaking eye contact. This could go one of two ways: You could lose your self in your mate and feel all your troubles instantly melt away, or you could spend the entire time thinking about what you could be doing with your eyes instead—watching Real Housewives, sleeping, watching Real Housewives, etc. With that said, Jack and Annie last a minute before Annie scampers off to a made-up pilates class. Oh, and she falls off the couch mid-eye contact. Between this and her run-in with the wall last week, it’s probably time for Annie to trade in her karaoke machine for a helmet.
PROBLEM: Gil, now divorced, wants to do all the things his ex-wife would never let him, like taking full advantage of a buffet. One buffet waiter is not supportive of Gil’s mission.
SOLUTION: After paying the cheap price for the endless breakfast buffet, a waiter named Chad approaches Gil and tells him breakfast is over and it’s time to leave. Gil, not having it, argues that he paid the price and is staying within the restaurant’s confines so will continue eating. With that, he goes on to feast on spaghetti and Powerade for 29 hours, which sounds like a movie James Franco should make, and gets to witness the world’s best (and only?) soup song.
PROBLEM: Annie gets out of her car with a wine glass in hand only to discover a cop waiting outside.
SOLUTION: First, she tries to play up the cop’s ego. “You aren’t by any chance a male stripper, are you?” she slurs. The police officer is more Santa Clause than Magic Mike though, so that doesn’t work out well for her. Then she tries to prove she’s not drunk, which… also doesn’t work out well for her. Finally, Jake shows up and points out the Skinny Girl cooler is on the pedals, so Annie wasn’t even intending to drive. And somehow, this is what works. Because having so much alcohol in your car that it physically obscures you from driving is obviously the way to avoid a DUI.
PROBLEM: Annie and Jake are scared of living together.
SOLUTION: They talk it out—in front of her parents and their friends, just as any couple does—and end up watching TV in Annie’s car and cooing to each other about how much they love living together. Even though they literally just acknowledged how rough its been living together so far. Guess all it takes is some TV and a comfy car to make things better?
“Tonight I got a date with two hotties. Let me clarify: Hotties are what I call Hot Pockets.” —Gil
“You hate those briefs, but you love what’s in them.” —Annie, talking herself down after seeing Jake sprawled out in the messy living room
“I lost my virginity to the vacuum. To the sound of that vacuum.” —Annie
“It’s like living with Sinbad. Except for the vests and the impossibly high butt.” —Jake
“Am I the only girl who’s thrown an impromptu, charcuterie-fueled soiree in her car?” —Annie
“The six years I waited to propose was me freaking out. As well as those harem pants I bought.” —Jake