In another area of the restaurant, Katie and Ariana check out the dresses they’ll be wearing for the party while they talk about how much better Scheana and Shay are doing now that he’s drinking the kale smoothies Sandoval whips up for him daily and not sequestering himself at his parents’ house. Those are positive steps for sure, but Lisa knows the guy’s issue has nothing to do with vegetable-based fiber. Shay has been taking pills for years and he drinks far too much and he’s got a problem that positive affirmations and flaxseed alone will not solve. According to Lisa, Scheana wants perfection: the perfect wedding and the perfect marriage, but what she’s chasing is surface and it’s not real and that’s an insightful comment to make about someone who maybe lives her life a little too much for show.
The other problem, of course, is that Scheana is a f*cking idiot. She doesn’t seem to be a bad person, but being kind does not always include being smart and I’m going to skip out on a splintering and rotting limb here and say it’s the rather unintelligent person who thinks her addicted husband should join the all-day Gay Pride celebration and have a drink or two but not get sh*t-faced. She finds nothing wrong with that plan because the last thing she wants is to be married to a man who is committed to the sobriety he appears to desperately need. Sobriety is so not fun, you guys. You know what else is not fun? When someone you have called all kinds of nasty names (including “human smegma”) all of a sudden shows another side to him by perceptively explaining that Scheana inviting Shay to a party that will be marinated in alcohol is actually an action that’s just setting him up for failure. I actually nodded when he said that – and then I realized that I was agreeing with Jax so I contemplated swallowing a little bit of bleach so it could maybe clear my head before remembering that bleach would probably sting my throat a little bit and maybe kill me so I just gnawed on a Lysol wipe instead.
And now we’re at Lala’s apartment and James shows up in yet another f*cking tank top, bringing the count this season to three hundred and eleven. He’s there to make music with her and also to make sure that he can violate her personal space for at least an hour during daylight because it seems that in addition to all of James’ other amazing qualities, we can also throw close-talker into the mix. But everything is good with them! He apologized for calling her “a basic bitch,” which is so much worse than being told by his ex-girlfriend that his other pet names for her are “slut” and “whore” and besides, Lala doesn’t hold grudges! She is ready to make up and write a song and get famous and maybe chew on the back of the guy’s arm later because he really likes that. First though, she wants to reiterate that she is not ready for anything exclusive and he reluctantly nods with a look on his face that is uncomfortably menacing, though maybe it’s just that I think he’s hiding all kinds of stuff (secrets, disease, snacks) in his chin dimple and that’s why I can’t trust him. It’s very important for Lala to trust him, however; they are about to embark on an artistic endeavor that will make her a star but again, wanting to be a star has nothing to do with why she got herself a hostess position at SUR. She did it for the fried goat cheese balls, people.
James has the words all ready for her to sing: “There ain’t nobody that I’m feeling like I’m feeling you.” Obviously that sentence will be my first tattoo. The rest of the lyrics are written on his phone and they sing it along with a beat he made. Lala’s voice is pretty good. It’s kind of soulful and she closes her eyes when she sings and it’s probably not just so she doesn’t have to see the face of the guy sitting beside her. And then James starts rapping and the correct reaction probably wasn’t for the listener to break into uncontrollable peals of laughter but that’s just what happened and I think we all should start to prepare for the time when James and Lala’s song becomes THE song of the summer, which will happen sometime during the Summer of Never.
But let’s not bet against James! James, you see, was born into the music industry. His dad managed Wham and George Michael is his godfather and I’d like to wake James up (and then smother him with a pillow and Jax’s crusty sock) before I go-go and thank God the band his father worked for was Wham because that joke would have been way harder to craft had the guy been a roadie for the Allman Brothers. Anyway, James knows how hard it is to make it in the music business so it’s really a good thing he’s this talented and comes off as so consistently likeable.
Now it’s time for the next phase of Shay’s Wellness Program and Sandoval and Schwartz are taking their roles as buff Fairy Godfathers very seriously. They’re at a gym to work out hard and they start with some pushups that leads to squats and then they all climb nylon ropes and engage in some boxing and it’s right about then when Shay goes outside to puke. I give the guy credit though. He wipes his mouth and rehydrates and gets back in the game just in time for some humping moves and watching Sandoval rhythmically grind against the floor finally allowed me to understand why Kristen has had such a tough time getting over him.
As for Schwartz, he’s totally excited that the ring he’s about to propose with is just about ready but he’s tempering his joy so as not to be insensitive to Shay, a guy who is really struggling. Shay really seems like a good guy and I hope he can get healthy and overcome his addiction because he has a lot to live for, including a wife who likes her new name because it involves alliteration. While Shay is sweating out toxins, pill residue, and his soul at the gym, Scheana heads to the DMV to officially change her name. Ariana accompanies her – and only an insanely good friend would willingly go to such a place so maybe Scheana should remember that the next time she tries to maintain that Kristen was just joking that time she said she wanted to filet Ariana with a rusty hatchet, baste her in a lemon and butter sauce, and roast her over an open flame in the town square.
Back in town, party preparation is underway and Ms. Vanderpump doesn’t see nearly enough pink in he midst. “Pink it up!” she pleads when she gazes around the set-up for Pump’s Pride party and then she sees James as he’s setting to DJ. The backs of the guy’s arms are layered in hickeys he calls “battle scars.” He maintains they weren’t left by the suction of Lala’s mouth and swears they didn’t come from Kristen’s ironic wisdom teeth either and it looks like maybe he’s telling the truth because rumor has it he nailed yet another hostess who works for Lisa and perhaps that means she only hires people who lack brain cells or taste.