Hey, everybody on reality TV has an off episode, right? How odd to be shaking my head in consternation over my beloved Sonja last night. From the get-go, she set off some warning flares. Usually I find her ridiculous birthday girl bows an interesting quirk, but last night they struck me as sort of sad and ridiculous. And I’m not certain the gay community has in fact bestowed upon her icon status.
The girls gathered at the Tremont Morgan estate to try on wedding dresses and fete Sonja before the Marriage Equality for New York march. Alex was all business, her face in a constant state of disapproving gape. Kelly was ready to put her ear muffs on lest the conversation ever turn to sex. “Who has sex in bed?” purred Sonja, once again lulling me back under her blowsy spell. “Everywhere else! My family comes in my bed. Please, leave that out of the bed!” Haughty ha ha, said LuAnn, who seems to be this season’s poor man’s Sheree, relegated to the occasional one-liner. “The guest room must be a busy place!” she said. Ha ha, what?
There was friction in the air as Sonja continued to remind her wedding party that this was all about her, she was the Grand Marshall, it was really her day. Cut to a sniffy Alex who wanted everyone to know—we got it!—that she has been on the planning committee since July, her name is right there on the website, not that it’s about her, it’s about changing the law. Then the oddest thing happened. “So is it Sonja’s day? Is it Alex’s day?” wondered Kelly. “I was actually marching for marriage equality.” Don’t go messing with my mind and talking sense like that, Bensimon. Next episode you better be feeding muffins to the horses or pitching a jewelry line of pigeon charms. Regardless, can everyone stop annoying LuAnn. Blah blah blah, equal rights for gays, on and on and on, we get it.
Let’s get this party started! Simon wore his favorite circus jacket, which Francois made special for him with a glitter gun and glue at school. The poor guy had been up all night before practicing his Alexandra/Alexander speech and he was jonesing for a podium. Not so fast, clown. This is Sonja’s day and she had written into her goddess contract that she would be the only one of their sorry lot permitted up on stage. Alex’s eyes popped; her jaw tensed; her hair puffed uncomfortably in the New York mist. “I feel like it’s been hijacked,” Alex said with a pout straight out of a Cathy cartoon. Please, Sonja needs to practice! Okay, remember, coached Kelly, love, peace, flowers. “The thing is is,” Alex continued, a gnat in Sonja’s gilded ear, “they canceled Simon because you wanted to be the only one!”
What could possibly cut through the building tension? I know, Jill in black leather! Holding Ginger in a desperate attempt to make her the East Coast Jiggy! “As a committee member, I’m glad you came,” allowed Alex, in what might have been her most stupidly hilarious moment of the evening. Jill just wanted Alex to stop picking on her already, it was bringing up flashbacks to being bullied in the 7th grade. High five? Awkward Housewives high-five. Okay, decided Sonja, it’s Turtle Time. Her moment had come. Her people awaited. “Love!” announced Sonja, sounding like the minister in The Princess Bride. “Love is equal. Sex! Same sex marriage should also be equal.” (Legal, you dumb f#^$!, groused Alex.)
NEXT: “Outta my house!”