Traffic Light, you almost had me. After your abominable pilot, I thought I noticed a few slim rays of wit and human emotion glimmering between the rickety boards of the second episode. Well, you patched them up as quickly as you could, and so we are back on terrible track with this week’s third.
After living together for a month, Adam admits that Callie’s calls during his morning commute are suffocating him like a lady anaconda coiling forever around his neck. He needs his car time! Anything to release him from her steely grasp! When Ethan suggests that Adam just tell Callie in human words that he needs some along time, Adam snorts, “I don’t know where the rules are where you come from, but here on Earth, if you tell your girlfriend that, she’d just run you over with her car.” I wish I could run this show over with a car, except I don’t have one and it would crush my TV.
Not that Ethan’s reasonable advice extends beyond the surface of his own exceedingly furrowed brow. His current lady Natasha keeps breaking the No Leave Behind rule, and the female essence of her personal belongings has him burning sage all night long to clear his man-cave of dark energy, metaphorically speaking. So like any normal, non-sociopathic man would do, Ethan gathers up Nathasha’s lipgloss, scrunchie and toothbrush and throws them in the garbage. THAT JUST SAYS IT ALL, DOESN’T IT? I wish I could throw this show in the garbage, except I don’t want to cut myself on all the shards of glass from when I ran it over five seconds ago. Also, didn’t Ethan say he’s still dating Natasha, but wanted to just take things a little slower? Of course she’s going to wonder where ALL HER SHIT WENT the next time she’s at his house. Logic, you are Traffic Light’s greatest nemesis!
Suddenly, the men spot attractive thin blonde Michelle at a party, and they talk about her like the human being she is. JK FOREVER, YA’LL. The guys’ boners practically rocket out of their pants and stab everyone in the eyes. I wish I could stab myself in the eyes, but I don’t have a wiener and my hands got cut off when I tried to pick up my broken TV to put in the trash. You know, I’m not myself an attractive blonde, but as someone who has been in the presence of attractive blonde women, I can testify that in real life men can speak to them without nearly spiking their toddler in the kiddie pool to get him out of the way of DEM TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTIES.
When fellow legal professional Michelle asks for Mike’s number, he assumes she’s hitting on him. Lisa points out that it is possible for men and women to eat a meal together without immediately rubbing their genitals together like they’re trying to start a fire. Lisa tells him he’s being silly and makes him take Michelle to dinner, which means odds are 5,000:1 that Michelle actually does want to fuck him.
Meanwhile, Callie accidentally overhears Adam’s angry rant about her over the phone (these people have so many phone related problems), thus requiring him to buy her a bouquet of calla lilies. Flowers: Making Women Forget That You Hate Them Since The Beginning Of Time. Callie loves them and forgives Adam for his outburst, which of course means that Adam will screw everything up and compare himself to a slave. “If I was a slave, I’d be one of those happy slaves…like a Roman slave,” he mewls while describing his relationship. “If they abolished slavery, I’d be looking at the other slaves like, hey fellas, I’m going to stick around for a while, for the baths and the numerals.” Great observation, Adam! I’m going to write a dating book where the first rule is, “Don’t compare your relationship to slavery,” and the rest of the book is just blank pages for you to write down what exactly the hell is wrong with you anyway.
When Natasha returns Ethan’s to find her belongings gone, he responds like the cool pathological liar he is…until Natasha magically finds her toothbrush and lipstick on his sink. Ho ho! I actually liked where this was going. Two insane people can play this game! Since Natasha either went through the garbage to find her stuff OR buys doubles of everything, Adam agrees that she clearly wants to move in with Ethan. THAT’S THE TAKE AWAY? The woman probably rooted through the trash to find her toothbrush. Do you know how much glass and hands are in there?
Mike meets Michelle for lunch, and realizes that they are actually going to be best buds…because Michelle is awful too! “Is that why you ordered a salad for lunch, Princess?” she challenges a shocked Mike. You woman! You girl! You female! YOU HIDEOUS CREATURE AND YOUR LEAFY GREENS! Instead of saying,” What the hell are you talking about?” Mike immediately recognizes they are platonic soul mates. “We’re going to need a crown for the Salad Queen,” Michelle tells the waitress. And for the Queen of Hell, we’d like a flaming diadem forged from pig iron and eternally weeping babies eyes. And some Patron, ya’ll!
Mike defends his new lady pal to Adam and Ethan, even though he’d totally fuck her in a vacuum. I wish this show was in a vacuum, because then there’d be no oxygen and…no, I’m kidding, that particular conversation was actually pretty normal and funny. Of course when Lisa hears Michelle leaving messages like “That sangria was like a big fruit party in my mouth” on Mike’s voice mail, she immediately turns against her. Hey, wait a minute, Michelle. Sangria? We thought you hated everything even remotely girly! Remember that new asshole you tore Mike over his chicken Caesar? You sure are hard to pin down, you horrible douche.
Meanwhile, Ethan has decided to move his relationship with Natasha into the back of his ambulance. Do none of the other paramedics notice that their vehicle constantly smells like fucking, or is that what critically injured bicyclists smell like anyway? Natasha still manages to sneak into a toothbrush, that tricksy minx, a moment that follows the funniest part of the episode: Ethan laughing with a fellow paramedic at the idea of moving an injured person to the edge of the road to let car pass. The show could still switch to all paramedic jokes; it’s not too late!
Lisa apologizes to Mike, the most insufferably smug man in the world, for flipping out at his new friendship, and tells him that she’ll hang out with him AND Michelle. No way this can’t work out. Even before they can order their salads, Michelle is proposing a three-way. “I like Asian girls,” she explains, which for some reason does not cause Lisa to fall into an erotic swoon of any kind. Instead of porking Michelle, Mike and Lisa take their weepy baby to his dumb boring music class, and all is right in the world. And so the traffic light turns from red to green to yellow, so too do our relationships turn from tense to bad to hostile. So, too, were the days of our Marriage Is Terrible.