Hello Bethenny fans. Like Bethenny did for Nick, I'm here to help you find the "namaste" in this episode. Let's recap our time in a Maggie-less world shall we?
As Bethenny so accurately predicted last week, Maggie decided to quit Team Skinnygirl. It's a strange turn of events (since most people don't quit jobs that take them to Mexico), but even B mentions that this crazy place isn't for everyone. Julie feels bad that Maggie couldn't hang, but you never really know until someone is in the brunt of their job. God bless you Maggie, wherever you are. I hope your new job is filled with considerably more stability and nothing that irritates your eyes -- if that's what you were after!
This does put the team down another head before Julie leaves, meaning now more than ever it's time for Jason to decide if he wants to be a part of the business.
Jason's frustrated about this working together process, partly because sometimes even though he's handling things he needs Bethenny to throw her muscle around. And it results in another bust up, as they debate if Jason's doing enough. Then at a team meeting, they continue to wrestle over who exactly is in charge of the apartment project. But the bigger issue is who will step in when Julie leaves, as beyond the apartment project there are a lot of other balls to juggle. Jason doesn't want to work "for" Bethenny, and that seems to be the final hold up in the process. . .
Dr. Amador simplifies things by saying that him joining the business isn't complicated -- it's his feelings about the situation that are complicated. Dr. A thinks that Bethenny genuinely appreciates Jason and needs him to be a part of the business, so we'll see what works out.
Losing Her Marble
In the continuing quest of getting the apartment in order, Bethenny and Jason head to a tile place to find the right pieces for the bathroom. Bethenny is concerned that the bathroom might feel a little too --- marble, marble, marble (which immediately brings to mind one of my favorite Saturday Night Live clip about marble columns). As usual, Bethenny gets right into the trenches with the tile guy.
Croatians love vodka and tile, as she finds out, which is useful knowledge if you’re ever trying to convince a Croatian person to bend to your will. How much does this particular Croatian love vodka? Enough that he has a bar in his store. Yup, a nice light up bar (much like the one that Bethenny would like in her apartment). You can't fault Bethenny for thinking that this guy might be her soul mate. He even had candy jars, full of (not crappy cheap candy) Rice Krispie treats and Nutrigrain bars. He can do whatever he wants with the apartment. Just pour B another martini and let the slot machines make the decisions the machines.
After taking another tour of the apartment and having people further solidify that she's on the OCD spectrum ("I want to be just shy of severe medication with the organization of my life."), Bethenny ponders if she should keep her current vanity. I adored Brooke's rationale for why she disagreed (which really just mean she hates it): "I think this room's quiet, and I think that’s loud." Agreed Brooke, I hate when my furniture raises its voice in a quiet space. Calm down furniture! Slow your roll!
And then Bethenny takes Nick to yoga. . .
I can't really hate on Nick's awkwardness, because yoga's hard. I certainly would not have wanted my first time trying to understand the complicated world of cat like stretches broadcast on national television. Particularly because, yes, as Nick learned, the remembering to breath is really hard to do. His face conveyed the lack of relaxation he was having during the exercise. As Bethenny mentioned, the result is a style of yoga we're not particularly used to – something between Bikram and Saw.
Nick however must learn to shake that Saw face off, because as Bethenny explains, going to yoga is like"going to a frozen yogurt store," in terms of the men-to-women ratio. I personally was unaware yogurt shops were such pick up joints (this explains the number of women sitting demurely waiting for someone to pay for the sprinkles on their froyo). I love Nick's rational that maybe you don't want to hit on someone in their post-fitness glow ("Aren't you like vulnerable, you're in your like peaceful place or whatever?"). I kind of agree with him. If I have just worked out all I want is a glass of water and a clear path to the shower, not any sort of a pick-up line.
What a Drag
Of course Bethenny and Jake decide to take their evening out at famed drag/Chinese restaurant Lucky Cheng's. I have been to this establishment, and I must say my reaction was very similar to B's ("We have walked into the Star Wars bar."). Jake, on the other hand, is less than shocked. He's busy knowing all the drag queens previous employments by heart.
But here's a twist: there are some ladies among the waitstaff, so obviously the evening quickly turns to a plan to ferret out the real women in the bunch.
Also did you know that bad people smell like tuna? That seems like an easy way to weed out the terrible people in your life for me.
Also: Jake, if you love the balloon man, so be it. Love comes in all shapes and helium-filled forms.
Devil's in the Details
After all that caterwauling, Jason and Bethenny decide to stay in the apartment. Jason's kind of killing it with the project managing, going to prove (once again) that he'd be great working on Team Skinnygirl.
However, all those projects he's managing aren't cheap. Installing ridiculously solid sheets of marable aren't exactly a gratis project. Someone has to be paid to give the tile the love and attention it needs at all times. The bathroom is going to be the Taj Mahal, and cost about as much so so be it. Painting the apartment is going to cost a fortune, however, who cares. As Stephen said, "tell me if you feel special." And how could Bethenny not feel special in that apartment.
Next week the gang leaves the apartment for Aspen -- and finds that the young men are loving what Bethenny's selling. Until then, leave your thoughts on Bethenny and Jason working together in the comments.