The Real Housewives of Atlanta recap: The Return of the Ring
Kim can't decide if Tracy is her friend or fan; Peter may or may not have a problem with NeNe, not that that's a problem; and baby pickle lets loose on Phaedra.
Okay, let’s just get this out of the way fast: Kim hop skipped over to the lesbian side for a brief dalliance with an attractive DJ named Tracy. They met at a party, the woman wanted to remix
Kandi’s Kim’s song, they stayed up all night jamming (read: smoking Newports and Googling Kim Zolciak), and they both wear red shoes. How could you not have sex after an evening like that? But Kim, who values discretion and dignity above all else, even Mad Dog, doesn’t understand why people are always trying to get up in her business. “We had sex, okay, great,” she groaned, so very bored of America’s appetite for tacky. “Quiver!”
How dare Sheree and Cynthia try to trick Tracy into opening her mouth at the nonsensical drag racing event. How dare Tracy overstep her bounds — she is Kim’s greatest fan, mind you, not her friend — and risk answering any of those hornet women’s questions. Kim couldn’t twirl her wig or crack her gum hard enough with her lesbian lover — fan! — in the room. God, just get over it people. Who she has sex with is none of our business. She’d rather talk about the music.
“The music.” I wish I could put Kim’s hollering of Whoa-uh-oh-oh-oh-oh-wows! onto my car key so that if I were ever accosted in a parking garage, I could just press the panic button and paralyze my assailant with a couple bars of vintage Zolciak. The problem isn’t pitch, our sweating chanteuse insisted. It’s that she hates the word “thing.” Someone please take Jan Smith out for a margarita, though. The vocal coach was delightfully biting as she tried to snap some singing ability into her charge.”The word is woah, so you don’t really need to read that,” she reminded Kim, who was staring hard at her lyrics sheet. “You sound pretentious,” she said later. “Do you know what pretentious means?” Kim nodded dumbly, before texting Sweetie orders to get off her fat ass and Google the word.
Atlanta’s More Talented certainly took their hits this episode. While Jan Smith rallied for the rights of music, Sheree’s acting coach tried to get her to feel something akin to human emotion. Sheree looked at her blankly upon news of a two-week run in a local play. Then her face curdled upon news that she would not be paid for her efforts. Then it went empty again when she was told her coach had set up a meeting with some agents. “Very little excites me,” Sheree tried explaining. “Is something wrong with me?” (You know what really left her cold? That second play she was in, the one about the…, um, hmm, you know the one where she played a…, yikes, anyone remember that play?)
The meeting with the agents didn’t go quite as planned. It was really shady — they expected her to read lines off a script and act and stuff. “Anyone have any questions for Sheree?” the head agent wondered, looking around at his sofa of stunned colleagues after Sheree’s performance of pauses and cartoonishly raised eyebrows. “I think we’re good,” he said, backing the woman slowly out the door. At least she had better luck on the race track. Kandi had been doing her fair share of smack talk, but it turns out her Mercedes was no match for Sheree’s Aston Martin. In the end, I think both women probably revved it up to 35 mph. I’m still not sure why they were racing in the first place, but at least it got NeNe out of the house.
NEXT: Peter and NeNe throw down!Is there anything less masculine than hearing a grown man whine “I’m a grown ass man”? Peter, apparently stressed about running a restaurant in hard times, has turned out to be a bullying tool. And he seems to have directed all of his churlishness NeNe’s way. When he comes home, he doesn’t want to hear Cynthia prattling away on her cellphone with the woman. “When he walks into the house he wants your undivided attention,” he harumphed in the third person.
Peter was distinctly cool to NeNe at the drag race and no one — no one! — gets away with that. So in the car ride home, NeNe called and invited the already tense couple to meet her for dinner. Too late, murmured Cynthia, who needed to get her fedora home to bed. Unwilling to let it go, NeNe demanded to speak to Peter, which was a little silly as she was already on speaker and does it really matter who holds the phone? But NeNe started hacking away at Peter, demanding to know if he had a problem. Well he did not like that one bit. “If I have a problem with, I don’t have no problem saying I have a problem with you,” he told Cynthia, who by this point had removed the engagement ring and shoved it far, far under her seat with the gum wrappers and used eyelashes. “If I got a problem with her I’ll tell her I have a problem with her and why would I have a problem with her?” Yo Peter, you got problems.
Elsewhere, Phaedra staged another photo shoot and she wore her shelf bra to this one. Baby Aiden, admittedly precious and dear, waited until every camera was trained on the happy family and paint-ball-splattered his Mommy with a few rounds of pickle juice. His Daddy looked ready to burst with love and pride.
Next week: It’s Phaedra’s business if she had an alien baby, nobody else’s.
Tell me, Atlantites: Any love left for Peter? Will we see him get jilted by season’s end? How long did Phaedra wait before serving baby Aiden papers for his crime? How many times do you think the Bravo editing team — high-fiving each other while giving lusty roars of approval — rewatched the tape of Aiden going pudding on Phaedra’s hand?
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