Vanderpump Rules Recap – 1/26/15

As I sit in my house in New York and the snow piles down from the sky in scary heaps, I find myself doing two things: praying with all my might that I won’t lose power and contemplating what kinds of preparation the cast of Vanderpump Rules would make in the face of a storm.

I’m imagining that Jax, upon hearing that he might have to be shut in for a few days, would hire both a prostitute and a tattoo artist – so that if he falls in pretend love with the girl he’s hired to go down on him, he can record her name on his body for posterity. (I think the pinky toe on his left foot is still unmarked skin that the new chick’s name can be inked on forevermore.) I’m also going to take a mental leap and guess that he’ll have some alcohol on hand too because the thought of facing who is really is while sober has to be more of a nightmare than it would be for me that my cable could go out.

Sandoval, having no idea that the relentless storm is nothing in relation to what he’ll have to deal with later on tonight, would probably get himself ready by making sure his knit beanies are within reach, that he has several boxes of Kleenex to dry the tears that leak out of his eyes with almost-alarming regularity, and hopefully he’ll put 911 on speed dial, because ice slamming down from the sky will not be enough to keep his ex-girlfriend away.

And speaking of Kristen, snow or no snow, it’ll just be a typical night for her. She’ll have her infrared goggles all ready to go so she can see through the snow and into Sandoval’s windows and she will take moments here and there to maniacally smoke cigarette after cigarette, all the while mumbling words of psychotic wisdom like, “It’s karma,” and “If Ariana were out of the picture, Tom and I could be together.” Then she would kidnap a fluffy puppy named Scooter and tell a random little girl that the Tooth Fairy f*cking hates her and then, exhausted from her good deeds, she’ll curl up in her cauldron to rest her slit-shaped eyes.

Vail, I hope, would hole up with the DVDs of the first few seasons of the show she’s now a cast member on so that she will be able to definitely arrive at the conclusion that Jax is a walking ball oozing sleaze.

Scheana would probably make sure she has bottles of water, an extra pair of lashes should the wetness of the snow f*ck with the eyelash adhesive that’s a permanent feature of her face, and she’d blast her new song, which will be guaranteed to scare off potential looters.

Stassi, who wasn’t on the show at all tonight, would gather paints and brushes and all kinds of canvases so she can use the hours of the blizzard creating an abstract masterpiece that is a collage of the heads of those who have betrayed her, upon which she will hang a sparkly statement necklace.

Lisa Vanderpump, upon hearing bad weather was imminent, would jet off to St. Bart’s and leave this bullsh*t behind.

But all of my cold weather realities are simply fantasies in the minds of the Sur servers who spend their days frolicking in the sun – and their nights fleeing from those they are contractually tied to for as long as Bravo continues to renew this show.

There was no real preamble tonight. The show started with a bang – or with the girl Sandoval might have banged. Yes, into a restaurant walked Annemarie, and just in case viewers last week were busy reading Proust while the show was on and got momentarily distracted, helpfully printed underneath her name is “Miami Girl,” which is now what I want to be next Halloween. She’s there to meet up with Kristen, who takes one gander at the girl in front of her and tells the camera that Annemarie is exactly the kind of girl Sandoval would sleep with.

“She’s in her mid-twenties with too much Botox,” says the insane person in her mid-thirties who doesn’t ingest nearly enough lithium.

Kristen asks Annemarie to walk her through what happened with Sandoval all those many months ago in Miami where the alleged philandering took place, and as I watched Miami Girl explain the deep intimacy that formed during her maybe-one-night-stand, all I could think was this: you’d have to first drug me and then drag me and then probably shoot me to get me to sit across a table from a girl who recently might have slept with a man I still loved. And even then, I’d probably limp or crawl away from that scenario because to not attempt to avoid that kind of emotional pain is nuts. At first, as Miami Girl tells her that Sandoval held her hand, Kristen looks like she is being stabbed and begins slugging back drinks like I did when I was pledging a sorority when I was seventeen. But then the trajectory of the tale takes a beautiful detour and Kristen listens and tears up as the stranger in front of her tells her that Sandoval is still in love with her and all of the hopes and dreams for the happy future Kristen has convinced herself that she and Sandoval could have – you know, if Ariana would just die already – become more vivid as the girl from Miami who craves camera time imparts the insight that Kristen is indeed Sandoval’s future.

It would be silly of any of us to think that this is merely a meeting of two half minds, though. No, this get together is about formulating a plan for Annemarie to waltz into Sur while Sandoval is working behind the bar and confront him about lying and saying he never slept with her. What’s the point of all of this conniving between two morons? Well, Kristen wants to expose the fact that Sandoval’s relationship with Ariana is built on lies and Miami Girl feels betrayed that he lied about nailing her.