What the hell is wrong with the men of Vanderpump Rules, a party boat invaded by braindead pirates? I feel like we’re stuck in a Rube Goldberg machine of cheating where they do something stupid, lie about it, get found out, barely assuage the tears of their wronged partners, and then do it all over again so that everyone can pout, complain, wail, and drown their sorrows in a never-ending whirlpool of sadness and regret.
First, we must continue to deal with Jax and his dalliance with Faith, which nearly splintered his relationship with Brittany though they continue to soldier on. This hour starts with the girls waking up on Brittany’s couch in their identical glasses that are uniquely wacky in their own special ways. They slept over because they were having a “Fuck Jax” party and spent the night with Brittany in case he were to show up in the middle of the night and try to apologize once again. They weren’t needed because the Toms and Peter got Jax a hotel room at the Standard in Hollywood, a hookup hotel so debauched and coke-fueled that even the spirit of Hugh Hefner thinks it’s being extra. (I mean, was one of their couches not available?)
Anyway, they order Taco Bell from Postmates, proving the on-demand economy will eventually ruin everything we hold dear. Jax shows up and freaks out about what is happening in “his apartment,” completely forgetting that his girlfriend — whom he forces to make sandwiches after his tiring bartending shifts — pays for half of the rent. This is part of Jax’s problem right there: He can’t get from a “me place” to a “we place” and include Brittany in his idea of himself as a person. Also, there is the problem of Faith’s place, which he keeps visiting much to the regret of a certain 93-year-old woman with a foot fetish.
God, Jax is so awful. He says, “No one tells me how to act in my own house,” and then tells Brittany exactly how she should behave in her own house and completely misses the irony of the whole situation. (Jax wouldn’t be able to catch a case of irony if it was an STI.) Then he tells Stassi, Scheana, and Katie that none of them can criticize him because none of them are perfect either. Oh God, where do I even start with this jiggling mound of post-steroidal aspic?
Jax is just always going to cheat. No matter what Brittany does, no matter who he’s with, his vain need for validation will always be more important that the feelings of his partner and he will forever disappoint her. But I think that disappointment is part of the appeal of cheating for him. He wants a woman who is so devoted to him that she will let him abuse her emotionally and still not leave. If that happens, maybe then he isn’t the awful nothing that he thinks himself to be. That’s why he doesn’t want an open relationship. If he were allowed to sleep with all the women that he wants on the side, there would be no appeal left. Maybe Brittany should give him the permission, because he’d probably never take it. The woman who will eventually tame Jax Taylor will be the first one to call his bluff.
Anyway, Tom Schwartz also is back in the hot seat for making out with a girl and not remembering it at all. While Tom and Jax may have a similar pattern, I think they’re absolutely nothing alike. Tom is just so irresponsible and running from adulthood that he continues to get blackout drunk and then make out with girls. Like he said to Lisa, he would never consciously cheat on Katie. I don’t think he wants to. I think he’s actually happy in his marriage. He’s just unhappy about having to grow up.
Schwartz doesn’t have a cheating problem; he has a drinking problem. If he can address that, then he won’t have any need to surreptitiously kiss cocktail waitresses with overly manicured eyebrows at clubs with horrendous names like Bungalow.
I have a deep and unabiding love for Schwartz and hate Katie in the way that teenagers hate anyone who makes them put their phones away for ten minutes, but I totally side with her here. I think she can easily get over the making-out part, because it is incidental to the embarrassment that she’s feeling. The problem is that it keeps happening and Tom will take no responsibility for it, like the fact that he doesn’t remember it means that someone else was in control of his body. Well, alcohol was in control of his body, but he’s the one who put it there.
When they have their altercation in the back alley of SUR (now with its own step and repeat) Katie storms out and says, “Get it together. What’s wrong with you?” That is exactly the right thing to say. This isn’t about Schwartz cheating on her or not. It’s about getting it together. It’s about being an adult. This show is ultimately about the struggles of a bunch of hot, 20-something party people trying to adjust to adulthood. Out of all of them, Tom is the furthest behind. He may have gotten married, but he still wants to live that fraternity lifestyle where consequences are null and void because he drank his bodyweight in Goldschläger.
Of course, the info about Tom making out with some girl comes courtesy of Lala, who is mad that Katie made fun of her relationship with this married guy again. Lala tells Ariana and Scheana about Tom making out with her friend in the hopes of breaking up Tom and Katie. This is a horrible plan. Ultimately, Katie is always going to side with Tom. Even if she’s pissed off for a while, she’ll forgive him and the anger will have to go somewhere. It is going to be directed right back at Lala and that fight will not be about Tom’s drinking problem. It will be about Lala’s shutting-her-face problem. Oh great, we have yet another year of everyone hating Lala coming. Oh whee.
I can’t really care about that, just like I can’t care about Jax and DJ James Kennedy Esq. drinking absinthe. Now, I have never done absinthe, but I have done enough hallucinogens to think that it doesn’t really work. Of course it’s potent, but really, can it be that insane? I’ve taken six tabs of LSD at once and not lost my shit like these two did off of one pale green shot that was legally provided in a California bar. It can’t be that insane.
I also can’t care about Stassi planning this stupid party and finding out — shocker — that having any job outside of the reality-television arts is actually quite difficult. I also can’t care about Lisa and Ken and whether or not they’re going to have Schwartz and Sandoval as partners. We all know that this drama is only for the cameras. And as for their negotiations, they actually got a better deal out of this. They were going to get a 10 percent stake for $120,000, but they walked away with a 5 percent stake at $50,000. That’s a $10,000 savings. What kind of shifty businesspeople are Lisa and Ken anyway?
What I can care about is Tom Sandoval, who was crestfallen when he heard the news about Schwartz at Guillermo’s birthday party. He came out into the back alley to find Schwartz sitting in one of the chairs with the fabric pockmarked with cigarette burns, his head between his legs and his fountain of messy hair pointed toward the grease-slicked asphalt. “Is it true?” Sandoval asked.
“Yeah,” Schwartz said. “I think it is.”
“I told you, if you’re going to kiss someone other than Katie,” Sandoval snarled, “It’s going to be me.” He stared down at Schwartz who lifted his head, unable to meet his friend’s glare. Instead he reached out his arms and grabbed each of Sandoval’s firm butt cheeks in one hand. He pulled his partner toward him and nuzzled his nose into Sandoval’s crotch. He could feel the contours of his package against his face, could feel the slow boiling of Sandoval’s blood in his member as he expelled his hot, lusty breath onto it.
“I’m sorry,” Schwartz said, as he wrapped his arms around Sandoval’s waist. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said, as he stared up Sandoval’s torso, searching for his eyes, his mouth slightly open as if he were about to say something or as if he were dying to have it filled.