Elsewhere, Heather’s tied up with a jaunty silk scarf and visiting Dr. Terry in his less-than-Nassify office space. The old paneling and shutters reminds me of my family’s TV room in 1978. “I have a surprise for you!” Heather tells the good doctor. Dr. Terry pauses. “Is it expensive?” Nope, it’s just a piece of paper, with Heather’s new signature on it. HEATHER EYEBROW. Dr. Terry gets teary – even having been married 12 years and had four children, it just has never seemed real without Heather taking his name. That’s sweet. I have never understood get how not taking your husband’s name is terribly feminist, seeing as retaining your father’s name is just as patriarchal. But to each his own, and Heather’s own is now Dubrow. The end.
Back with Tammy for a moment, who’s auditioning strippers and contortionists to teach at her fitness studio. I do not strip, contort, or do push ups, so I think this is not the gym for me.
Time for Gretch and the MPM to go to therapy and they are stuck in traffic. I mean, parked on the highway. Other cars seem to be zooming on by so at first I wonder whether they are getting a ticket. No, they’re just fighting, and texting. Finally they arrive at the offices of the Dynamic Learning and Listening Center where a very eager psychiatrist is waiting to learn and listen, dynamically. The patients settle on a dirty white couch while the doctor perches on a rust throw next to a sad looking arrangement of dusty old fake hydrangeas.
How can she help? Well, these two have a good relationship, but external forces, i.e., those demanding babymommas, are causing trouble. Gretch informs us that at times she has helped the MPM make some of his child support payments and could continue to cover them, but doing so would be like enabling a child. Wow. WOW. Did you hear yourself? Of which child do you speak of enabling? The child with whom you are knocking boots, or the child with the brain tumor who has been shorted over $100K in support? Not that it matters, damned either way. Gretch changes tack by saying that really it’s the Magical Penis’ masculinity demanding to make the payments himself. Yeah, his masculinity makes a lot of demands. MPM claims “steps have been taken”, and this is all left quite vague so I am assuming he means he’s finally filed to have his support amount reduced to the almost nothing he is capable of actually paying. Gretch knows this because she’s the one who hired the attorney. Finally the Dynamic Listener drills down to the real problem: Gretch is a distraction. She requires the MPM’s constant attention, which takes away time he could be committing to actual paying work. Such as painting, or telling bad jokes, or mime, I really don’t know what. The two agree that Gretch will leave the Magical Penis alone from 10 to 2 each day. She thinks she’s going to have to check in to make sure he’s actually doing something productive during that time, versus surfing porn on the internet or trying on her wigs or something. The Dynamic Listener discourages this. 10-2: that’s when the magic is going to happen. Hope the MPM can do it in his bathrobe.
And now it’s time for Tammy Sue and Assy to have a confrontation. Assy is waiting in a nearly empty restaurant as Tammy arrives in a neon-pink workout jacket and black tights. And full makeup, because that’s how she works on her fitness. Assy welcomes Tammy and compliments her jacket, to which Tammy responds less than graciously. Assy wants to clear things up and find out why their “friendship” (were they ever friends?) went south. Tammy don’t care. Assy’s just not her type of girl. “Why would you trust a girl with tits bigger than her head?” I don’t know, I’ve never met one. To her credit, Assy is trying to be nice and make an effort, but Tammy’s having none of it. “You are a fake, and a phony, and I wish I’d never f%&ked you!” she shouts, before storming out. Actually that last line was from my sorority’s spoof “Grease” rush skit, but same idea and we’ve heard this before, anyway. Tammy spares Assy nothing; the three highlights of the verbal beatdown are:
1) “You talk about money as though it’s shooting out your *ss!” (wouldn’t you love to see Assy’s *ss shoot cash?);
2) “You talk to people like they are workers.” “I’m the first one to go to those who are hurting.” “Yeah, and it makes you look fake.”; and:
3) “Terry Dubrow, the most successful plastic surgeon in Orange County, says you are the phoniest person he ever met.”
It’s pretty much like Tammy spotted Assy in a parking lot, intentionally backed into her, and then drove back and forth over and over and over. Have to feel sorry for our Assy. She asks if there’s a way they can be civil both to each other’s faces and behind each other’s backs. Tammy Sue tells her that if Assy does something stupid, she will comment. So, no.
Assy gives up and gets up to leave. “Please be respectful of me and my marriage,” she says. “I don’t give a sh*t about you or your husband,” retorts Tammy. Where is this anger coming from? I find Assy ridiculous but she doesn’t make me angry. Jeez.
Next time, the red-eyed tree frog attacks! There are ziplines, monkeys, and Vic’s crying about the wedding again. Oh, and all the ladies gang up on Assy and make her cry. Can’t we leave Jesus Barbie alone? It’s not like she’s hurting anyone. Better swish, jellyfish!
Written by: Elizabeth Spilotro
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