Last night’s episode was titled “Courtney Loves Love,” pretty much advertising that the show’s producers hate their jobs and can’t believe they went to film school only to wind up making this dreck. And, yes, I’m a bit late in posting the recap, but that’s because I had my yearly dermatological once-over today, which revealed two suspicious moles on my back that had to be surgically removed. As far as you or I or anyone else knows at this point, they could be cancerous. I could be just like Courtney’s mom. Now don’t you feel bad? Anyway, enough about me. Let’s get to recapping.
The show opens with a brunch at Courtney’s friend’s house. All the other girls, including Tori, look like they have come to a friend’s house for brunch. Casual, not a ton of makeup. Courtney, on the other hand, looks like she should be popping out of a padded barrel and waving her arms at a bull. As the girls drink mimosas, Courtney declares her intention to hire an intern. When someone points out that interns sometimes work for free, Courtney says, “Then you have to go through all their school. Like, you have to, like, like, make it official.” Tori says that she doesn’t want Courtney to hire a sorority kid who talks like a valley girl, which is like telling 2 Chainz that you don’t want him to hire a kid who wears necklaces. Then Courtney says she is going to have dinner with Matt Nordgren, and the brunching friends all make faces that are so serious that if you were watching with the sound turned off, you’d guess they were discussing the Holocaust.
We return to Courtney’s apartment, where, without comment, she uses red lipstick to write the following on her bathroom mirror: “It’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” What kind of woman does this to her bathroom mirror? I have an answer. It’s the kind of woman who can prove that absolutely ridiculous and absolutely boring are not mutually exclusive.
There follows a series of interns vying for the gig. Courtney says to the camera, “This intern will have to literally be someone who can do it all. Tell me when my hair’s too big. Tell me when my hair’s not big enough. Tell me when I need more hairspray.” To me, it seems there’s literally more to doing it all. Courtney conducts the interviews in a room of her apartment that looks like a converted closet she painted red. There’s just enough room for her, the applicant, and a desk. Katie is too eager. I don’t know what is wrong with Chelsea. Then comes Matt, an SMU student with a mullet. Courtney offers him a drink. He politely declines. Matt doesn’t get the job because Courtney says she can’t trust herself not to have sex with him. Totally understandable. A girl named Shannon gets the internship after she puts together two outfits from Courtney’s closet in under three minutes. No copy editing test. No googling to find out whether Shannon has ever been busted for kiting checks. She doesn’t even literally tell Courtney whether her hair is too big or not big enough. Just the two outfits. Bam, hired.
Hours elapse. It is now nighttime, and Courtney’s friend Annie shows up with a 12-pack of Michelob Ultra and a bottle of white wine. Annie is friends with Matt Nordgren, too, and she’s there to help get Courtney ready for her big date with Matt Nordgren (always first and last names). Whatever assistance Annie provides (beyond the beer and wine), I am not able to detect. A clock on the kitchen wall says it is 10:30, which is later than I typically prefer to eat dinner.
When Courtney arrives at Private Social, Matt Nordgren is waiting for her. He wears a smartly tailored dark suit, a white dress shirt open at the neck, and a smoldering look in his eyes. Courtney is nervous and knocks a fork to the floor. Matt Nordgren tells her, “I think you’re the mayor of Dallas now.” I would like to see Courtney handle the public-comments part of a Dallas City Council meeting. Sign me up for that. Thrust, parry. Courtney tells Matt Nordgren, “They call you the player of Dallas.” The words “mayor” and “player” rhyme. Matt Nordgren drops a bomb. He’s been “with a woman” for the past year, but now they’ve broken up. “Which, I’m single now,” Matt Nordgren adds, in case there was any confusion. Matt Nordgren tells her, “I feel like I’ve never been able to talk to anybody the same as I did with you.” And Matt Nordgren has her. Courtney is playing with her hair, smiling in a way that indicates there are at least 10 Michelob Ultras back at her apartment.
You know what, though? Matt Nordgren blows it. When Courtney tells Matt Nordgren that he “threw her by the wayside,” he denies that they were ever officially dating. Which, of course, leads to a flashback montage filled with scenes of the two riding horses together, of Courtney meeting Matt Nordgren’s mom, of Matt Nordgren’s hand on Courtney’s thigh, of the two sucking face in a hot tub — the strong suggestion being that Courtney and Matt Nordgren sure looked like they were dating. So why does he deny it? Furthermore, how can Matt Nordgren say he wants to get back together with Courtney if they were never together in the first place?
Matt Nordgren, listen to me. You’re clearly not very smart. So simply memorize the following words. Don’t worry yourself over what they mean. Just say them to Courtney. They will work. Say: “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t know why I broke it off. I didn’t realize how good I had it. The past year has shown me that. I won’t take you for granted again. Do you have any Michelob Ultra?” In like Flynn, man. You’ll be back at her pad in no time. But don’t look in the bathroom, because there’s a crazy message written in lipstick on the mirror.
Courtney begins crying in Private Social. Dinner never arrives. She bolts out of the restaurant. The Bravo producers were prescient enough to set up a camera out on the street so that they could catch her egress. The end.
The whole time, I kept thinking: when we last saw Courtney’s mom, in the previous episode, she was in a drug-fueled, post-surgical haze. Will someone please check on her?