This week on The Real World, our favorite seven strangers returned to the breezy confines of their San Diego retreat and attempted to expunge memories of the Greek drama that nearly derailed the entire group. This was achieved by drinking. A lot.In all fairness, we did get a minor preamble about how Robin’s in love with her Marine boy Mike, and Randy’s in love with his foxy Boston friend from home. She will go nameless because I forgot her name and am too lazy to check it on Tivo. Anyway, the Boston gal arrived with two other Massholes who soon met the aforementioned Mike – apparently also from the greater Boston metropolitan area. Daps were given all around as everyone talked about how everyone thought everyone was awesome. Robin especially noted how psyched she was to have a serious boyfriend. She also alerted us that they have not had sex yet because she wants to take it slow – a tactic Big Randy advised against, until he got distracted by a dandelion seed in the air and went off to follow it. Actually, I’m surprised that Jacquese didn’t request a date of consumation so that he can schedule a spying gigglefest from the doorway.
Now, most Bunim-Murray Productions veterans know that all this Robin chatter is usually the big setup to a night of infra-red sex. How wrong we were. Back to all the Bostonians meeting and drinking. Everyone was having a great time with shots of whiskey being dutifully doled out. Fast forward to the club and a few generic images of dancing and drinking. Robin and Mike made themselves cozy in a booth and cooed each other with talk of love. Later, Robin gushed that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Mike, and Mike responded that he wanted to marry her. But before that wedding, Robin just needed to do a few more shots.
You see, Robin used to be a bartender at Coyote Ugly, she explained to us. That meant that she had to do shots all night long behind the bar. Hence, when she goes out drinking now, she always wants to do shots and can’t stop. Oh, and she’s an alcoholic. Truth is that it wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t become totally belligerent. That wouldn’t be fun TV though. True to form, Robin threw a bone to her fans and trolled the streets of San Diego, yelling at random people with red hair and flicking her finger at everyone else. Understandably, Mike grew frustrated at his gal, and became less an officer and a gentleman, and more an officer and a drill sergeant as he yelled at Robin and shook off her touchy hands.
The other Bostonians realized that there was nothing left to do in the situation but to hop in a cab and jet back to the hot tub at the Real World Mansion. Meanwhile, Robin began the pathetic puppy dog act of running up to Mike – bootay in full pendulum motion – and trying to talk to him. He kept shaking her off though, causing her to stop, process, and then try again. After a dozen attempts to corale her boyfriend, Robin broke down into her patented guttural man-crying (my friend Leah pointed that attribute out), and collapsed into a heap on the sidewalk with her head in her hands.
After the commercial break, Robin hopped into a cab and cried her mascara off in the backseat. I couldn’t tell if she was sad about losing Mike or if she was just being crushed by her oversized fake boobs. Nevertheless, Robin got out of the car which had finally arrived not home, but back on Mike’s heels. Yes, tired of running to catch up to her boyfriend, Robin took a cab to pester him instead. She took up permanent residence in his quite nice BMW, and when he wasn’t able to shoo her away, Mike just drove away with her in exasperation.
Meanwhile, the roommates hit the hot tub. While Randy macked on his hometown honey, Jamie expressed a flash of concern for Robin. She likened the Coyote to a fourteen year old, prompting a Bostonian to say “Wait, is she fourteen?” Jamie just nodded her head in a sarcastically wonderful note of condescension.
After the hot tub, Randy pitched a tent in the front yard and his crew spent the night away from the infrared cameras. The next morning, Jamie noted that Robin still wasn’t back, and now she was getting a little worried. She left a voicemail on Robin’s phone saying she was worried and she hopes Robin is with Mike and not stranded anywhere… ie. jail. Sure enough, Robin and Mike showed up at 5:00 PM with giant smiles on their faces. I guess everything is OK now. The lovebirds acknowledged that they were being crazy, and now they’re tighter than ever. Oy. The resident gossips, however, were convinced that Robin and Mike finally had sex. This led to Jacquese doing his best Laugh-In impression when he poked his head out of a little window and made an 8th grade comment about the missionary position. I kid you not.
Later, the crew went to a Pimps and Ho’s dance. I’ll spare the easy joke about how they didn’t have to stretch very far to fit the roles, yuk yuk yuk. Looked like a fun shindig, and Randy left early to get some non-tent action with his girl. Next morning, the Boston visitors left – and as Jamie said goodbye, she left us wondering “Who wears short shorts?” Turns out she wears short shorts. In fact, she wears the shortest shorts ever. Jamie can pull it off though. God bless her.
The episode wrapped up with Robin and Mike resolving to drink less, then laughing off the crazy idea, and then going into the still-pitched tent to make out. Jamie recruited Brad to peep at the action. And by peep, Jamie didn’t just stand by the tent and listen in. She full on unzipped the flap and poked her head in. Smooth. Very smooth. More giggles were had all around – poor Jacquese missed out – and Robin closed out the episode insisting that there was only some kissing going on. Too much Robin, but at least it wasn’t Frankie. That’s next week, when it appears our punk wannabe returns to form as a family visit results in yelling and pouting. One of these days, someone like Jacquese is going to snap and call her a bitch. Oh wait, it looks like that’s next week too. Yes!