Real Housewives of New York City recap: ‘Three Tequila…Floor!’
Sonja and Ramona get a room — and Luann is totally bushed
The gals are off to Mexico for some much-needed R&R, and things are off to a fabulous start — if fabulous means Bethenny has been barfing into a garbage can, and Ramona’s face has been attacked by a lawnmower. Who’s ready for margs?
Listen, I’m all for trips, but weren’t we just in Vermont? I miss seeing the ladies in their natural four-block habitat, going to steak restaurants and fighting over the only three men who apparently exist on the Upper East Side. But here we are in Puerto Vallarta, where it’s all fun and games once the gals set off for their private villa. Carole, usually the resident font of wisdom, wants Taco Bell because they’re in Mexico. (Sure.) Bethenny proclaims that she would “blow Simon van Kempen for a Slurpee right now,” prompting Dorinda to ask, “I wonder what ever happened to them,” and prompting me to think that Bravo should start a spin-off about all the former Housewives and Househusbands who I forgot about until exactly this second. Sonja and Ramona — an increasingly sort of less fun version of Statler and Waldorf — play a round of F—, Marry, Kill, and everybody wants to kill poor Tinsley. It’s unfathomable to me that the onetime pillar of New York society and braid devotee is somehow the lowest lady on the Housewives totem pole, but I guess Bravoland can be like the Upside Down. And actually, joke’s on them, because remember that dude Tins was sucking face with on that super awkward double date with Carole? Well that date lasted five days. (You hear that, ladies? Step off.)
Once we’re in the villa it’s back to our regularly scheduled programming of Sonjamona Being Super Shady, up to their old tricks of sneaking around and trying to grab the nicest room before anyone notices. This goes on for what feels like the entire episode, until Bethenny — who I should add has a fever but is still the baddest B in the house — shuts that shizz down and forces them to choose numbers out of a hat. Sounds fair, right? Except that when Tinsley draws No. 1, she can’t take the pressure (girl, get it together) and trades with Bethenny, who is “hosting” the trip. (You know, in as much as any of the Housewives host any trip in this franchise, which I think is not at all.) By not offering her golden ticket to Sonja — whose house she’s been living in for five months — she only empowers the Diabolical Duo to do their worst even more.
Ramona finally, grudgingly settles into her room — even though she’s afraid SHE MIGHT ACTUALLY DIE — with the help of the house staff, whom she snaps at and orders around without ever saying please or thank you, but it’s okay because she “tipped them generously.” Then she and Sonja canoodle and get dressed in the exact same outfit, and it’s finally time for dinner, an hour and a half late. Tinsley’s in tears almost immediately because a) alcohol, but also b) she’s found out that Page Six is running an item about what an ungrateful houseguest she is. (The most troubling part is that a newspaper would actually care about this story.) The suspects are clear, but Sonja and Ramona both deny planting the item, with the latter saying, “I don’t talk to the press, I hate the press,” which I actually believe because Ramona is a huge Donald Trump fan.
Dinner devolves into its usual racket — Dorinda goes to bed instead of eating because a) alcohol and b) there is no b — and Bethenny wins the episode for turning her usual shrill schtick into an actual public service by putting Ramona and Sonja in their place, telling Sonja that it is gross to scrounge for the “best room” in a house that most people couldn’t even afford to step into. (Sonja is confused because she thought she was on an episode of Girls Gone Wild. Or something.) Oh yeah, and then a very drunk Luann falls into a bush, and then falls off a step, which means, sorry Bethenny, there’s a new episode winner in town.
Next week we’re off to the agave fields, where I can only imagine Luann will fall off a tractor.
The Real Housewives of New York City