After watching this week’s episode I can only hope that the American Psychiatric Association adds “Bonker Balls” to the DSM-V. Until then, Heather will have to settle for existing clinical classifications of Rebecca for her class.
Speaking of “Bonker Balls” behavior, Paula and Rebecca are in the midst of yet another scheme to naturally run into Josh. Dressed like child actors in a mid-’90s Bagel Bites commercial, the two teeter around a skate park where Josh apparently goes every Saturday with his nephew. The ambush-hang fails, though, and all Rebecca gets from the afternoon is an Instagram notification (yes, in the world of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, Instagram notifies YOU when someone posts new pictures) about Josh and Valencia’s super sexy trip to Temecula.
The hate-scroll session is quickly interrupted by an incoming call from Rebecca’s mom. She’s a Jewish mother, so she uses the phone call for pretty much what all Jewish mothers use phone calls for — to tell her daughter that her old friend, Audra Levine, is engaged to a hedge-fund manager. She also informs Rebecca that in addition to the engagement, Audra got the promotion that Rebecca turned down to chase after Josh. We all have an Audra. Some of them are Lindsays or Rachels, some of them are professional artists or investment bankers, and some of them own summer homes bigger than all of the spaces you’ve cumulatively lived in your entire life. But they are all Audras. And they all make the rest of our lives a living hell.
Dejected about the seemingly disastrous state of her life, Rebecca does the most sane and relatable thing she’s done since arriving in West Covina and decides to eat her feelings. Heather (NOT “Heath”) reluctantly comes to the rescue of Rebecca’s blood sugar and digestive tract and tells her that instead of barf-crying on the other side of the wall, she should look for some new dudes on Tinder.
A few swipes later, Heather finds Jason, who wants to meet Rebecca at a bar in 20 minutes. So in less time than it takes to have a pizza delivered, Rebecca is in a dive bar shoving her tongue down the throat of a guy swirling therapy balls in his left hand thanks to his Call of Duty 3–induced carpal-tunnel syndrome. Tinder is always full of winners!
Back at her house, the hookup turns into a Nicki Minaj–inspired musical number complete with a sheer catsuit and as much on-screen writhing as the CW allows. The song, “Hey Sexy Stranger,” hits the two prevailing thoughts of every woman having casual sex: (1) This is super hot and (2) Please don’t murder me!
Realizing that boning a video-game-obsessed stranger might not be the solution to her Josh problem, Rebecca runs downstairs only to be confronted by yet another existential butter commercial. This one asks, “Are you making healthy choices?” Clearly she’s not, and she pushes Tinder Jason out the door (sans therapy balls) claiming the reason for ending their evening early is the butter ad. You know, how most Tinder dates end.
Rebecca tells Paula in between green juice sips that she spent all night on the internet getting her life on track and now she’s into bee pollen and veganism. A day ago she was going to fill her body with pork rinds as therapy, and now she’s spiritually centered and off all animal products.
Back at Home Base, Greg tries to explain his feelings. “I like Rebecca, but I don’t like Rebecca,” which I think is the basis of 90 percent of adult relationships. Josh stops by to complain that he needs to find a job because the sexy Temecula vacation put him in serious credit-card debt. The talk of money makes Josh want to go to his “happy place,” which is a Hawaiian-themed electronics mecca called Aloha Tech. I mean, sure. Why the hell not?
Rebecca waltzes into the bar midday (because even though she IS employed, she never works) holding her trusty green juice. She touts her new healthy lifestyle before it forces her to rush to the bathroom. Greg sees this as the perfect opportunity to ask her out. She emerges and he tells her how he feels, since it’s every girl’s dream to be asked on a date right outside of a public restroom.
One black-and-white standard called “Why Not Settle For Me?” later, Rebecca still can’t decide what to do about Greg. They ballroom dance in formal wear to a song about self-hate, which I think is how most weddings should actually go.
Paula is adamant about two things at this point. One, Rebecca’s treadmill desk was an expensive mistake, and two, that she should not go out with Greg. He’s Josh’s best friend, so there’s some major bro-code violations at hand if she says yes. Paula seems like the kind of lady who learned about bro-code from overhearing it, heavily researching it, and then aggressively bringing it up whenever it’s even loosely relevant so that she seems hip.
Josh swings by the office for Rebecca’s help. His application to become an assistant manager at Aloha Tech requires a personal essay for some confounding reason, and he can’t figure out how to do it. So why not ask your Harvard- and Yale-educated, desperate former flame to give you a hand? Rebecca is all too eager and quickly writes the essay for him. In return for the favor, Josh gives her some love-life advice and says she should go out on a date with Greg. Willing to do anything to make Josh happy, she picks up her phone and says, “Hello, Greg? Yes.” Date confirmed.
Unfortunately for Josh, Rebecca’s essay for his application drips of her Ivy League pedigree, making Aleck, the Hawaiian shirt clad manager, think Josh is overqualified. Little does Aleck know that Josh wasn’t even qualified enough to fill out the application, let alone make a Kafka reference in his statement about why he deserves the retail job.
Now for the bro-code-breaking date of the year. Greg takes superhealthy vegan Rebecca to the West Covina Taco Festival. They’re in the middle of some scintillating date conversation about presidents when the siren song of pork harkens Rebecca over to one of the vendors. But, alas, she can’t have pork because SHE IS HEALTHY AND VEGAN NOW, so she opts for a cauliflower taco instead.
At the guacamole contest, a man-bun from Echo Park lays some pretty serious lines on Rebecca after he learns she’s vegan. Rebecca determines his team’s guacamole is better and more authentic, earning some light mocking from Greg. His barbs devolve into a full-on argument probably because they each had at least one beer. But Rebecca and Greg handle the disagreement like mature, normal adults. Then she bolts to the porta-potty since the most significant moments in her relationship with Greg, so far, center on unpleasant public-toilet situations.
There’s no better place to do an introspective reprise of a song about settling for someone than an outdoor, temporary bathroom, so that’s what happens. Upon exiting, Rebecca is torn in two directions: to Greg and her mature, honest, new relationship, or to the sizzling pork she has sworn off, available five feet away in taco form. She chooses the taco and tries to eat it before Greg sees, but she’s caught. Not by Greg, though, but by the vegan hipster.
Cut to the obvious next step of Rebecca naked in bed next to him and his flowing blonde hair, finally free from the confines of an elastic. She lies and says she, “finished a bunch,” and then he punches her arm in a post-coital exchange that will haunt my nightmares for at least three months. The loose strands of his leather bracelets are barely out the door when Greg arrives trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Greg, listen, here’s where it went wrong: You asked out a girl who is in love with your best friend. End of story. Get a grip.
Once all of the secret pork sex and disappointment have passed, Rebecca learns Josh didn’t get the job at Electronics Luau. She storms down to the store with him, makes the case for his employment, and saves the day. She breaks down and announces, “I’m not Audra Levine and I will never be Audra Levine.” Look, none of us is Audra Levine. The first step is accepting that.
The episode closes with a meeting between the butter copywriter and an executive. It turns out the heavy, philosophical ad lines that have been basically dictating the way Rebecca lives her life all stemmed from a man trying to process the emotions of leaving his wife for a prostitute. That old cliché! Hope that guy doesn’t kill himself because Rebecca needs the life advice.
- “No, I can hear your face,” is an excellent way to say no to Face-timing with a Jewish mother.
- “Don’t skate sad. Or maybe at all.” Paula doling out some seriously good advice.
- Is Aloha Tech based on a real place?
- I would like to know the “obvious” reasons for why Rutherford B. Hayes is Rebecca’s favorite president.
- There is no way that vegan, man-bun guy is on LinkedIn.