There are some activities that Housewives should avoid because they never end well. The classic example is vow renewals, which almost always segue into a quick divorce. Getting on a boat usually spells disaster for our ladies, as does hiring a psychic. But there is a new one to add to the list, and it is playing a game. We’ve seen the ladies play lots of games lately and do I need to remind everyone how Heather Gay’s “Who’s Off Your Wagon” game on Salt Lake ended? Okay, I’ll remind you: “Not well, bitch!”
This game happens at the cast’s first dinner in Mexico City. (Nicole is not there because she had to work. Ew. Real jobs.) Larsa says they should play a game, which is Truth or Dare, but if you take a dare, you just have to drink. Um, that’s not Truth or Dare, that is Truth or Drink, which, okay, fine, but it’s not Truth or Dare. When Larsa picks truth, Guerdy unloads her whole clip: “Is it true that your brought up fake tears when you were talking about me on a podcast?” This is why you bitches should not play a game. I swear the only game they ever play is William Tell, and they’re thinking everyone is just going to shoot the apple off of their heads when they’re really aiming squarely for in between the eyes.
It was a bad episode for Larsa, a crash test dummy someone put back together wrong. I don’t know that Larsa’s unique blend of idiocy and confidence, while great on The Traitors, is suitable just about everywhere else. When they’re having drinks at the Mondrian Condesa (which is so cute I would stay there), Larsa tells Alexia that she was mad about a comment she made three seasons ago. Alexia said she feels like whenever Larsa invites her to something, it’s to sell one of her products. She says this as she’s dragging all of the women to the tequila bottle factory like she’s an over-inflated Bethenny Frankel. I get Alexia’s point, that it’s annoying to only be a marketing opportunity, but I get Larsa’s too, because what are all of the women on this show to do other than sell something?
Larsa says to her, “I don’t have a Todd.” What Larsa means is that she wants extra credit for doing this all on her own (with a sizeable divorce settlement from her husband). Alexia, naturally, takes umbrage with this because the only two things Alexia can do are take umbrage and wear cat-eye sunglasses. Larsa then starts screaming about how no one supports her like she supports them, but they’ve shown up to every gifting suite and sponsored post that Larsa has thrown over the years.
This is all dumb, but Alexia is not letting it go, and the two start screaming at each other. Alexia says she does plenty on her own, and we don’t know what Todd does or doesn’t do for her. Larsa then changes her story and says, “When I say you have a Todd, I mean you’re lucky you have a Todd.” That might be what she intended, but the words that came out of her mouth were not drenched in the sauce that would make one believe that. They were drenched in the sauce of “Woe is me and I’m better than you,” which is also the name of Larsa’s new line of dips and sauces, coming to an overpriced supermarket near you.
The whole scene is absolutely nuts, with the two of them digging into trench warfare while Marysol succumbs to a mysterious illness while Julia and Adriana, her sworn enemies, try to fan her back to life. Larsa and Alexia literally clear the room with their fight because everyone knows it will not end. These two are peas in a pod, so stupid they repeatedly blunder their way to offense, too stubborn to try to argue their way out of it, and too arrogant ever to think that they could be the ones at fault.
Eventually, the two of them call a ceasefire, or else we’d still be in that hotel room in season eight, trying to figure out when this might end. Neither will admit they were wrong; neither will apologize. “You will never win a fight with Alexia,” Larsa says. “You’ll just give yourself a migraine for no reason.” Has this woman met herself?
Kiki might be the only one with actual beef with Larsa. As Larsa’s banging on about how much she supports other women, Kiki is pissed that Larsa dipped out on her Swim Week after-party the week before. She was also the highlight of the fight about whether or not someone has a Todd in her confessional, where she’s using a vibrator to dry her tears. She says, “I don’t have a Todd. I don’t have a Scotty. All I have is this, and it doesn’t come with money. I had to pay for this!”
When Kiki brings this up to Larsa later at drinks — brought to you by Cockies by Marysol Patton, coming to an overpriced supermarket near you — Larsa says that she wasn’t feeling well and that’s why she had to leave. Again, it’s defensive, combative, and puts the blame on Kiki rather than herself. Larsa could have said, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just really wasn’t feeling well that night, or else I would have been there. I’ll be at the next one.” Instead, she tells Kiki she is always telling her to start her own products. Giving your friends business ideas is not supporting them. Anyone can do that. Supporting them is showing up, which is more difficult.
Before we get to drinks and dinner, we have to take a little interlude with Adriana, where she goes to rehearse for Mexico City Pride. Adriana says the one phrase in the English language worse than “I’m a hugger” and it’s “I’m a gay man trapped in a woman’s body.” Um, doesn’t she make guys wait four months before banging them? Gays don’t even wait four minutes. Call me when you’re like, “Door’s open, ass up.”
She takes Kiki and Julia to support her, and Kiki comes on to the dancers, who are all gayer than a three peso bill. The same thing happens later when they go to their weird dinner at the art gallery that Alexia arranged. They’re greeted by a fleet of hot, shirtless guys with perfect abs and random tattoos wearing bunny masks. Everyone is confused, including the audience, but I’m enjoying it. Kiki tries to hit on these guys, too, and the one she does is gay. Duh! Straight guys do not look like that, and if they do, they are not wearing bunny masks and serving Real Housewives. Poor Kiki needs to calibrate that gaydar stat. She does say that she wants to turn a gay guy straight, and, know what, I would take one for the team. Kiki, I’m ready when you are. But let’s invite a couple of those bunnies just for good measure.
So, at the crazy dinner, where sexy artist Ricardo is telling them about how he paints these images from his dreams while they all ignore him, Guerdy goes after Larsa for saying she cries fake tears. Um, this lady has cancer. In her confessional, Marysol says that Larsa always leans back in her wrongness and will defend herself to the death. She also says she wouldn’t be fighting with a woman in the midst of a cancer battle, and it doesn’t take a retired PR professional to tell you that is a bad idea.
But that’s the problem with Larsa; she’s so worried about being right, but she’s never worried about looking wrong. She’s trying to defend her remarks about Guerdy when they’re not defensible. But they keep on rattling at each other; they keep shouting and instigating while Ricardo gets on his painted piano to pound out a plaintive song, and the bunnies arrive with dessert, their torsos undulating, the desserts steaming, the abs popping as they’re caressed not by fingers or feathers or future lovers but by Larsa Marie Pippens cheap words, everyone one of them as wrong as usual.