I can’t talk about Brittany and Jax’s fake breakup anymore except, well, here we are and we have no other choice. It’s like having a vodka soda at the gay bar. You know there are better options, you know that it’s better if you just abstain altogether, but, well, it just wouldn’t be a trip to The Abbey without one, would it? Jax, as we discussed last week, is the absolute worst in this breakup and we now we know even more why he is so awful. After the breakup and Brittany storming off in a Lyft in her pajamas and sad hangover glasses, Jax goes to Tom and Katie’s house to talk about what happened and he tells them that he had sex with Brittany both the night before and that morning and then he broke up with her.
I wish that you could see a GIF of my face right now because it is a combination of this bucktoothed girl, this bug-eyed wolf, and every single one of Andy Warhol’s car crashes. He tells Tom and Katie that he’d been thinking about this for a while and that he just finally had to do it. But the sex, well, he didn’t even think that was a bad thing. “Sometimes sex isn’t about a relationship, it’s just about getting off,” he says, adding that she initiated it. Yes, that may be true, but couldn’t he stop her just long enough to be like, “I think we should break up,” and then go watch some realtor porn on his phone after she left the house?
This right here is everything that is wrong with Jax summed up in one little incident. He doesn’t think about anyone else’s emotions other than his and because of that, he leaves a trail of relationship shrapnel all over West Hollywood. He tells the Toms later that he “doesn’t know what to do in relationships.” That’s not true. He knows that he should be faithful, respect his partner, and not bone a woman right before he cuts her loose. He just chooses not to follow any of those rules. That is what makes Jax an asshole: He makes the conscious effort to put his own happiness before everyone else’s. He’s not ignorant, he’s just a dick.
Consider the rationale that he gives to his shrink (who he only sees because his reiki master is out of town). He says, “She deserves so much better than me.” No, it’s not really about Brittany. It’s about him. It’s about him not wanting to make the sacrifice for her. It’s about him wanting to be the martyr and engaging in his own self-loathing in a very personal way that is usually reserved for realtor porn. None of this has anything to do with Brittany at all, it’s just about Jax trying to figure out a way to not be miserable, even if making Brittany — who has repeatedly chosen to be with him no matter what he does to her — miserable is the collateral damage.
Let’s talk about Tom and Ariana instead, shall we? They decide that they’re going to buy a house like actual grown-ups, mostly because when they’re on the couch about to get it on, Ariana’s brother Jeremie walks by wearing only his morning wood Speedo. (I am not sure why Jeremie is wearing a square-cut bathing suit around the house, especially when he is partially tumescent, but it is the highlight of this boring episode.) They go see the blandest two-bedroom bungalow in all of West Hollywood and then they disagree about whether or not they want to have children. “My handbags are my children,” Ariana says and, well, I decided to shut this episode off and just go watch Jeremie-as-a-realtor porn instead. Then, after that was done, I broke up with Brittany and checked out of life for good.
Ariana also gets pissed off at Tom for going to Jax’s aid after he broke up with Brittany. I get her point, that he needs to decide when it’s really important to leave her side to be with his friends, but it seems like Jax needs someone to tell him what an asshole he is being.
If I were Ariana, I’d be more pissed off about the cocktail book. She had signed up to do a cocktail book and Tom was very jealous of her so he forced his way into the book. Then, after the deal with Lisa to start Tom Tom, he totally abandoned the book and now Ariana is left totally out in the cold on a project that she didn’t even want him to be a part of in the first place. That would be enough to make me dump his ass, even if he did try to make out with me while I sat on the counter of a stranger’s house that we hadn’t even purchased yet.
The other big event of this episode is Lala’s showcase to a room full of people who already know her and not one single music executive, except maybe like an intern from Capital Records or something? I don’t know. DJ James Kennedy says that you never know who is going to be in the audience and that Lala could get signed right after she walks off stage and then she’ll have a record contract and “Boom shaka laka, mad cash yo.” Oh, it’s so sweet that DJ James Kennedy knows so little about the music industry that he thinks that people are still getting fat paychecks from recording contracts. Isn’t that adorable?
Lala isn’t awful at the showcase. She wears this really sexy leotard with a cool crossover loop thing around the bosom that is both flattering and erotic while being as tasteful as a skin-tight unitard could possibly be. She is also wearing the black and white knee-high boots with red laces that Lisa bought for her because she couldn’t make it to the showcase. It is a nice gesture.
The party itself is tasteful with Stassi putting out candles, flowers, and crystals in those glass and brass geodesic domes that you only see in Los Angeles or Anthropologie ads. Personally, I would have focused more on getting people there who could actually make her music career happen rather than candles and shit, but I’m not in charge.
Stassi also has little portraits of Lala done that are on the tables but, strangely enough, those portraits look more like Stassi than they do like Lala. Are Stassi and Lala actually the same person? Is Lala what happened when Stassi finally reached a certain level of enlightenment, but instead of going to nirvana, she just split into two people? It’s possible.
I really am a huge Lala fan and my favorite part of the whole showcase was at the end when everyone was supporting her and she and the other women on the show were getting along and they got to have a little girl-power moment and, for a minute, just a brief flash as quick as the glimmer off of a sequin as it crashes to the floor, I thought these were real actual human people and not a bunch of fire ants running from their hill as a frat boy poured a beer funnel into it.
I nearly forgot that Toms Schwartz and Sandoval went shopping for the uniforms at Tom Tom as if Lisa Vanderpump for a second would let them make that kind of design decision. They snapped pictures of each other in short-sleeved printed shirts that were exorbitantly expensive and a nice chambray shirt that cost $140 but they could probably get in a much lower quality fabric for about $25 at the J.Crew Factory website.
As Schwartz went into the dressing room and was about to undo the buttons, he felt two strong arms wrap around him and beat his fingers to the buttons. They undid the top button and nimbly traveled down, making a quick stop at each white disc, making the shirt fall farther and farther away from his chest. When all the buttons were undone, Sandoval’s hands grazed against his flat stomach and up to his chest, sending a flurry of sensation all over Schwartz’s body. Sandoval then spun him around, put his hands on either side of his face, and kissed him deeply and passionately. “I just needed to make sure this shirt is as easy to get off as you are,” he said, as he pulled the fabric entirely off of Schwartz’s shoulders and it landed on the floor with a sigh.