'Real Housewives of Atlanta' recap: Get ready to rumble
Somebody get me a margarita. Bravo producers must be slipping $20s all over town to make sure there is always a funnel of the frozen stuff in NeNe’s vicinity. If she stays always just this side of sauced, they can depend on her to tickle Kim’s tatas and orchestrate brawls. If she sobers up, well then she might heed wise Greg’s advice to just let all the drama go. After filming wrapped for the season I hope dear Greg—”What does it sound like when you apologize?” he asked his wife. “Let me hear it.”— called up Bobby Zarin and the two of them booked a nice long cruise. Those good men are the definition of menschs. If Atlanta didn’t have NeNe, we might be stuck with more extended bits of Ed dribbling rose petals in the shape of heart around his foyer and ladling red vinaigrette out of a champagne bucket. Beat it, Ed! Listen, the man looked better in white drawstring pants than Simon ever could, but that does not make him a similarly welcome sixth Housewife.
A quick few episode highlights: Ed wants babies, trusts his soldiers. Made Chilean See Bass. Ran bubble bath. Sheree folded laundry. Showed off her butt nicely in leather pants. She realized that nothing makes a woman feel more empowered than gasping and giggling over the sound of a gun at the range. After a little target practice with her friend Tania, a veteran of Desert Storm and the Pro Athlete Dating Scene, Sheree declared that “I hit the kidney, the stomach, the lungs!” Sigh. She was now ready to protect her family from any savages roaming her remote, rural property (ie, .5 acres with underground sprinkler system on an exurban planned development).
Kim bought an ugly purse for $3500. She might return it now that Big Poppa is no longer around to foot her bills. Then again, she’ll get three jobs if that’s what it takes to maintain her lifestyle. She will shovel shit for her Dolce Gabbana. (Which is weird because she said that the fashion house sends her clothes all day long from Los Angeles.) Okay, shoveling shit takes care of one job. Barbie Doll wigs is possibly another. The last job, judging from her increasingly plunging necklines and corseted waist, might have to involve her breasts. Or at least the one that photographs nice.
NeNe asked Kim to meet her out at their old drinking hole to try and mend fences. The girls’ night ended with Kim in her lap, the two of them pinky swearing to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth at dinner with Sheree. Kim, oddly sounding like the voice of reason, said she didn’t see what the point was to airing all their past grievances. NeNe, who better understands the needs of reality TV, insisted. What could go wrong?
The evening started off well. Kim said she expected someone to stab her with a heel spike so she on put a bike helmet (safety first!). Okay, okay, we’re laughing. The drink orders have been placed. Maybe this could end well. But then NeNe wondered why Kim had spread rumors around town that Greg was broke and that her house was a rental. Kim called Sheree a liar. In the best explanation ever she told NeNe “I might have said you’re low class. Maybe I said you had no class.” But she swore on the the lives of her kids that she never brought up Greg’s finances and yes, Sheree did bounce checks in the Neiman Marcus shoe department. Throughout the tit for tat I had the singularly disconcerting realization that I might be starting to like Kim a little. Like NeNe, I kind of believed her and I kind of would like to have another girls’ night with her. Sheree sat there looking smug and shifty. She called Kim trailer trash, Kim called her a f$%$ing liar and stormed out of the restaurant before the fidgety host tossed the whole table out. Sheree stormed after her, possibly with a gun in her purse. NeNe, who looked flabbergasted by the evening’s deterioration (yeah, right), didn’t know what to do. She fumbled for her purse under the table and called after Sheree that she can’t run in heels. It was all ridiculous, though footage proved that NeNe really can’t run in heels.
In the episode’s one truly sincere moment, Kandi went over to plead the case of her fiance to her mother, aunts, and one weary uncle. Kandi (32?) wants her mother’s blessing but the woman wasn’t budging in her disapproval. “It’s serious dealing with one baby mama,” her Mom said. “Can you imagine what it’s like, four baby mamas? Hey, that’s just going to be more drama.” Kandi told the kitchen of relatives that at least her man was present in his kids’ lives, at least he stuck around. Oh Kandi, I do hope this man comes through for you. Her aunts stepped in, promising to pick up any pieces, and told their sister to stop assuming the worst. Aunts rule.
What did you all think? Who wants to see less of Ed? Do any of you think Kim might not be so truly bad after all? Or at least think she’s good for a margarita date? Is Greg on your Must List?
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