The curtain rises on a new day in Vic’s office, where she’s bustling about a precarious stack of office appliances trying to make some copies. I am a firm believer in making one’s own copies, but somehow I suspect Vic is not and that this wouldn’t be happening if she still had an actual staff. I am confident the person she whispered to in the conference room was actually the sound guy from Bravo setting up for the visit from Donn2. Vic is wearing a skirt that is Amanda Woodward-short, and has stuffed her haboobies into a white ruffle front blouse that brings Yanni to mind. There’s a knock: who could it be? Oh, right, it’s Donn2, and he’s brought breakfast! “Nobody’s ever brought me coffee before!” cries Vic. Ahem, I recall at least one if not two occasions just this season where Tamra’s brought you coffee, you ungrateful wretch. Revisionist historian, that thou art.
Anyway, Donn2 has come to comfort our Vic because he just knows she had a long night the previous evening with the Briana confrontation. Yes, Vic acknowledges, Briana “unloaded” on her. “I am not perfect, but I believe I am a perfect mom. I really do.” WHOA. Did she just say that? Must be nice, Vic, to have such confidence, while the rest of us moms of the world race around like chickens with our heads cut off second- and third- and fourth-guessing ourselves every waking moment of every single day. I’m waiting for the photo of Mike on the stool self-serving from Vic in her skinny jeans. Humility is a healthy virtue, Vic.
But none of that here. In fact, this whole debacle with Briana is actually because Briana has DAD issues. Oh she has dad issues alright – namely an abject terror that this slick willie knocking here mama’s boots is going to be her next one. Vic blathers some more about their “amazing” mother-daughter relationship and how Briana has never talked to her like that before (I’ve got six seasons of RHOC streaming on BravoTV.com that tells another story, lady) before breaking down about how hurt she is. Poor Vic, this is just pathetic.
Donn2 starts cooing sweet nothings to console his woman. “Maybe it’s not her words, maybe it’s her truth that’s hurting you.” Wha? I don’t speak Oprah. “These are truthful things from her perspective – what parent doesn’t want their kid to be truthful?” Well, maybe not you, Donn2, because Briana’s truth is that you are a con man. Donn2 is unfazed. He’s been called this before. He’s not after money – which is good, because I don’t really think there’s as much there as Vic wants everyone to think – he’s after love, partnership, and screen time on the magic box in homes all across this fine country of ours. This chicken is not going to fly the coop; he has landed, dammit, and he and the Magical Penis are going to be holding oranges in the opening credits for season 8, mark his words.
Elsewhere, Heather is having lunch with a supposedly Emmy-winning actress named “Dina” with whom she appeared on some show sometime. Heather is wearing that shiny sleeveless plaid “Ooops I Did It Again” tunic, which means this is actually the same day as her Canadian TV movie audition of a few weeks ago, or she’s the only Housewife unafraid to recycle her wardrobe. Very Kate Middleton. Heather is continuing to mull her prospects in the entertainment industry, which if you ask me are on the uptick but I suppose this seamy sh*tshow isn’t really what all her classical theater training was supposed to prepare her for. Dina advises Heather that she’s really only got ten years left as an actress, so why bother. Why indeed? In that case, Heather is going to make a bold move: after 12 years of marriage, she is officially going to change her name from Heather Paige Kent, which doesn’t mean anything to anyone anyway, to Heather Dubrow. It’s a gift to Dr. Terry and confirms she’s staying put (I think the intertwined “H” and “T” on the bathroom floor sort of sealed that, but anyway). Really the whole issue in the first place was that she doesn’t like it when people mispronounce it to rhyme with “eyebrow”. I get an awful lot of people calling me Mrs. Cilantro but it doesn’t bother me. She’ll be fine.