Drinks On Me! - 
by B-side
There was more crazy fun in Florida last night as the seven roomies of The Real World headed to the mainland to avoid the breezy wrath of Hurricane Rita. On the upside, they were safe and sound from gale-force winds and airborne debris. On the downside, the group had to cram into one hotel room as if they were a bunch of rabbits in a burrow. If there's anything reality TV has taught us, it's that close quarters breed high tension, and this precarious situation was no exception. Faster than you can say "claustrophobia," the roomies were already tossing drinks at each other. Oh, did I say, "claustrophobia?" I meant, "homophobia." Mild difference.
The show opened up with dark and brooding images of the storm approaching. There's a hurricane a-comin'! Take shelter! Find safety! Get drunk as soon as possible! Yes, Mother Nature was breathing down the neck of our roommates, but they sidestepped a waterlogged fate as they checked into the not-so-swanky West Palm Beach Marriot. As I mentioned earlier, they all stuffed themselves into one oppressive suite where they had to brave the storm and each other. Everything seemed fine at first. There was a tingle of adventure in this little trip (and let's hope for their sake that this didn't count as their "vacation"). Tyler and Jose trekked down to the hotel bar to check out the weather, and guess what? Rita was now officially a hurricane. Dunh Dunh DUNH! Oh Rita. You devilish storm! I have to say, I had a hard time summoning much dread for this hurricane. Let's face it. Rita's always been the Jan to Katrina's Marcia. You know that if we'd all just ignored Hurricane Rita, she probably would have run away. Of course, then we'd have to all get in the station wagon and patrol the neighborhood for her, and who wants to do that? Wait, what am I talking about again? Oh yeah. The Real World.
Anyway, after we'd had enough of Tyler and Jose's fascinating experience with the Weather Channel, we then saw footage of the ocean, and yup, the surf was raging. A storm was brewin'! And speaking of storms, we then found ourselves with Paula, who proudly told Svetlana, "I can eat anything. Anyplace we go, I can find something to eat." Not to be cruel, but it's not so much about the eating but the digesting, if you catch my drift. Nevertheless, Paula found a large salad to chomp on and then returned to the subject du jour: John. For those of you who may have forgotten, Paula and John got into a 'uge fight last week when she cockblocked one too many of his girls. Insults were exchanged, tears were shed, and sexual orientations were questioned. Unfortunately, the roomies didn't kiss and make up, and now they were stuck in the same room together, courtesy of Hurricane Rita. Thanks, MOTHER NATURE.
Well, Paula was very frustrated with John, and she told Svetlana, "No matter what is in his head, this whole thing is my fault." Seriously, John needs to get over it. It's not her fault that she cockblocked John. Why should she be held accountable for her own actions? Clearly it was HIS fault for not stopping her. A real man would have beaten her, nay, put her in the hospital! Somebody get Keith!
Nevertheless, Paula then insisted, "I wasn't drunk. I had three beers!" Three beers? She weighs less than two beers. A swig of Listerine in the morning, and she's dancing on tables, singing "Tub Thumping" at the top of her lungs. Three beers + one anorexic girl = total inebriation.
Anyway, Paula noted how according to John, she was now a lesbian. Yes, just something else for the therapist to deal with (assuming she ever gets one). Svetlana then decided to crack a funny by saying, "That is a full-time job: bulimic, anorexic, and lesbian." She then realized she was talking about full-time jobs and immediately offered to be the manager of Paula's bulimia, anorexia, and lesbianism, but oddly enough, the job was already promised to Zach. He really is very enterprising.
Speaking of Zach, he had now joined Jose at Mission Control (a.k.a. the Marriot bar), and the two sat transfixed by the Doppler radar on the TV. As fascinating as it is to watch weather reports from six months ago, I still found myself less than enthralled. Luckily, the scene ended very quickly; although, not before some philosophical ramblings by Zach on how weather reports can be so much more meaningful when they actually apply to you. Uh, yeah. That's sort of why people from Colorado don't check out the weather in Bulgaria.
Night soon fell on West Palm Beach, and since this was The Real World, what else were the roomies to do but hit the bars? Yay! Time for some bumpin' and grindin' and throwin' drinks! The gang went out to a hoppin' club where Paula immediately made a new buddy. His name was Alex, and he had the privilege of being labeled "Paula's friend." I wasn't sure if he was a West Palm Beach local or a fellow hurricane refugee finding sweet asylum in the sweaty confines of this club, but either way, Alex and Paula had an instant rapport. I guess that'll happen when the first thing you say to a girl is "Oh my god. You're so cute!" By the way, gaydar -- kind of going off, which would be appropriate. God forbid Paula meet a nice guy who's actually attracted to her.
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Next Page... ( Comments ) | Discuss In Our Forums