Group dinner! Li’l Todd has arranged for Peter’s birthday dinner to feature both a pig roast and an Uncle Peter roast. Phaedra says, “I can’t wait to roast Uncle Ben and put him on a plate with a side of his own special rice,” which I love in theory, but all she really ends up saying is that she always wants to bury him because he… dresses… so… fresh?
Everyone goes a little tame, but the gist is, Peter is old, but still took all of Cynthia’s money, and that is a roasting I can get behind. Of course, the sickest burn is when Porsha attempts to be funny (???) in her roast by saying about Cynthia, “You gonna hit it tonight,” and Peter fires back, “If you don’t get there first.” I thought Big Todd was about to lose his damn mind from laughing at his own girlfriend. Cynthia’s attempt at being funny, I kid you not: “You definitely brush your teeth like no other, for sure. Get all around the tongue, the back of the tongue…”
Now wasn’t that a nice time? Wouldn’t it be fun if we ruined it with a painful fight between exes on a boat, followed by a weird-ass party and a rehashing of events from two years ago? The Burruss-Tuckers plan a catamaran ride at sunset for everyone; in true RHOA fashion, on the upper deck, everyone works to capture their best selfie lighting, while below deck, a Tennessee Williams play unfolds. I was so proud of Sheree — not an emotion often visited in the world of a Housewives viewer — last week when she said she was done with Bob after he made light of the fact that he had not only abused her in the past, but never apologized for it, and it was my only hope for her going into tonight’s conversation that she could hold onto that strength.
My goodness, I am relieved but exhausted. I would be happy if we never saw or heard from Bob again, save for some Kandi Coated reenactment of “Cell Block Tango,” perhaps. Bob starts off by saying that he wants to apologize for what happened at the jewelry store: “What I thought would be a good time didn’t turn out so good.” Then he dares to ask Sheree what he did in the store to make her walk away from him. Hmm, I dunno, Bob, could it have been the sociopathic laughing when Sheree confronted you about not taking your past indiscretions seriously?
Sheree once again tells Bob that he doesn’t take anything seriously, and that they’ve never really discussed all the different ways he did her wrong, including but not limited to walking out on her and their two small children without so much as a phone call for six months. Also, not paying mortgages, cutting off credit cards, and all those times he’s talked about wanting to unbuckle her seat belt and slam on the brakes so that she would fly through a car windshield: “It’s abuse, it’s mental abuse, and for you to make a joke of it… it’s been like that the entire time.”
Bob yells that he takes the blame for all of that, but that’s not him anymore. Sheree says she’s not really feeling any true remorse for his past actions, and Bob says he doesn’t know what to do: “If you don’t know what to do as a grown-ass man, then I don’t know — I can’t teach you.” Bob screams, “WHAT THE F—! You want me to bleed myself right here? Slit my wrists so you know I’m serious about it?” You know what Sheree wants, Bob? “I WANT YOU TO HAVE SOME REMORSE FOR WHAT THE F— YOU DID! THAT’S WHAT I WANT YOU TO HAVE!” Y’all: They on some Tennessee. Williams. S—.
Upstairs, Cynthia gets her weave caught in a fan that plugs into her iPhone.