Hello, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to another recap of this season's runaway hit show, Popular. This episode deals with sensitive material, such as It, It, It, and, yes, It. If you are offended by It, freaked out by It, or just don't want to know about teenagers with eating disorders doing It, then back away. You have been warned. Love, amorgan.
I guess it's true that old habits die hard. Early one morning, for no apparent reason, Jane is brushing her teeth in Sam and Brooke's bathroom. Now, I could (kind of) understand this nosiness, this absolute disregard for personal boundaries and privacy when it was just Jane and Sam in that little hovel where Jane used to let Sam sleep with open cereal boxes on the bed. Now that they live with Mike and Brooke, one might think that Jane would have no reason whatsoever to be cruising around her daughter's bathroom and stealing her toothpaste. But one would be wrong, since there she is. I imagine Jane in college, her roommates forever aghast at what new violation of personal space she has perpetuated: "Hey, who took my last tampon? Jane, did you - are you wearing my favorite sweater?! I just got that back from the dry cleaner! That's it. House meeting." Anyway. She finds a condom in Sam's bathroom drawer, and decides that it's time to give the girls the Talk. Jane: "I don't want to be one of those parents who lives in denial." Sam: "Mom, please be one of those parents." But no, Jane just barrels on into the It conversation. Aw, that's a nice thing - I like it that she talked about the emotional stuff. Very responsible, etc. Okay, on to the funny bit. She then whips out some "literature" that she picked up at the free clinic, entitled "Know Your Vagina." BWA-ha-ha! The word "vagina" always makes me laugh. The girls are absolutely mortified, and I am already in stitches. It's a promising beginning to the episode. "Vagina." Hee hee hee.
Credits, commercials, blah, blah, blah.
O. Mi. God. And I'd like to add, BWA-HA-HA-HA! Loli-Pop wants me to pet her silky fur! BWA-HA-HEEE! Ew. And then there's Sugar Daddy, chatting up some ol' ho' online. I'm sure she's a loser, someone with whom we are not at all sympathetic even a little bit. (Shut up, Foreshadowing. I don't give a crap what you say.) Oh, man. This has become instantly painful. Poor ol' Sugar Daddy. Lying about how he looks, feeling all ashamed and sad when "Gwyneth" wants to meet up with him in person. Ouch. Thank God for comic relief, eh?
Heavens to mergatroid - what a gorgeous transition from the Loli-Pop video to the two sexiest Chess Club mavens in town, April and May Tuna. Fully outfitted in Loli-Pop gear. Baby, where do I sign up for that dating service? Hee. Oh, but it's not about them, it's just an excuse to drag us into a tedious, preachy spiel from Little Big Head about safe sex. Blah blah blah, the point is that she's all motivated to pass out condoms at school, but can't get Harrison to take her seriously, because he's too busy playing with his own, ahem, Loli-Pop paraphernalia. Oh, hi, Sam. And what are you bitching about today? Oh, that's right, the über-embarrassing sex talk this morning before school. Yeah, well. Happens to the best of us. Shut up. Hey, but even better than telling Sam to shut up, Harrison and LBH just start bagging on her for having a condom and provoking the sex talk in the first place, since she's obviously not getting laid at all. As many more clever and sarcastic recappers than I have often said, "Hey, Kettle? Yeah, hi, it's the Pot. Know what? You're black." To escape their mean-spirited mockery, Sam runs into the only place where anything happens in this school, the Kim Novak Ladies' Lounge. And since Brooke and Sam are the only people who ever use this fabulous restroom, of course they run into one another there. To drive the point of Sam's chastity home, Brooke immediately begins snarking at Sam for the vagina-rrific (hee hee hee) lecture at the Palace that morning. Can you guess what happens ? Unkind words exchanged, a "friendly" wager proposed, the gist of which is that Sam has to get a boyfriend in, like, a week, and Brooke has to have Josh over for dinner. Um. Am I the only one who thinks the odds are a little off for Sam? The loser has to publicly join Knees Together, the sexual abstinence club. Ha! Not bad so far, guys. Only three quarters of the show left to screw things up. Don't blow it. (Heh heh. I said "blow.")
Cut to Little Big Head looking all moral and righteous. She's throwing down with Nurse Glass over the passing-out-condoms-in-school issue. HA! Nurse Glass is wearing a Loli-Pop bow in her hair. LBH says that she's pro-responsibility; Nurse Glass tells her to go to Hell. Straight to Hell. This scene is actually an utterly palatable and simplified explanation of the yes-condoms-in-school vs. no-condoms-in-school argument that has been raging for years. (God bless Surgeon General Elders.) Hm. I can see right now that some clever activism is going to have to take place, and that Little Big Head is just the right person to do it.
Meanwhile, over in the boys' locker room, Josh is trying to convince Sugar Daddy that SD wasn't all that far off the mark when he described himself as "built as a quarterback." Right. And I'm built like Leticia Casta, only without the giant tits and sex-kitten face. I mean, we're both mammals, right? Oh, Sugar Daddy, "like Jada and Will" is no way to describe a perfect relationship. Oh. Anyway, Josh puts forth the sentiment that he and Brooke have got a deep connection (snarf. Shut UP, Foreshadowing! Make yourself useful and get me a damn beer) and then the two boys do some weird Three Stooges-type sign language that seems to mean, "Yes, we see eye-to-eye on this matter."
Oh, yeah. Let me see it. Whip it out. HA! Promiscuous Girl magazine, here I come. Brooke pulls out this side-splitting rag and proceeds to take the "Are You And Your Man Really Connected?" quiz. Oooh. I like the song that's playing here. Whiny, minimal, indie-rawk with cool effects? Yes, please, I'll take two. Uh-oh -- magazine quiz says Brooke and Josh are in a completely shallow relationship. Magazine quizzes never lie. (To take as many quizzes as you could ever dream of, just hop on over to http://www.swoon.com. You'll be in heaven.)
Over in the hallway, Sam runs into dreamy loser Leo (remember, Carmen's brother, from the slumber party episode?), who's apparently started giving tennis lessons at the high school. Ahhhhhh, yeah. And he's giving them to those white-hot sexpots the Tuna sisters. (I am cracking myself up right now. I just want you to know that. Tunapots. Hee hee hee.) Sam doesn't stand a chance with those two firebrands standing in her way -- or does she? Leo seems to fancy Sam and encourages her to sign up for an innuendo-laden tennis lesson. Sam swoons into a dream state in which she envisions herself as Loli-Pop (frames are frozen all across America as Carly Pope fans start to feel squirmy in their britches), with Leo in a cage. Grrr, tiger. Sam starts to sign up for lessons, but then stomps away at the last minute, saying to herself, "You loser. He'll never go out with a sophomore." Um, Sam? Hopefully he'll never go out with jailbait. I bet he'd have doubts even if you were a senior. Which you will never be, since everyone who's not a sophomore in this school apparently becomes fodder for Bio's genetic experiments. But that's another story.
Welcome to one of the many meals at Kennedy High. The Brown council convenes to discuss condoms and Carmen's sordid relationship with the movie Sleepless in Seattle. (La la la la la! Hear that, Foreshadowing, that means I'm not listening.) The four of them bitch about how hard it is to hook up with someone, and then they all start ragging on Sam again. What's up with that? Oh, right. By any means necessary. Right. Sam says, "You're right. If I want a boyfriend, I'm just going to have to sign up for one," then trots off, leaving a bewildered Carmen to ask, "Wait. Are they giving them away somewhere?" Hee. Over at the Blonde table, things are not so optimistic; Brooke lays it out for Josh, telling him that they need to get to doin' It post-haste. Oh, I forgot to mention the really heart-breaking part at the beginning of the scene where Harrison wistfully watches all these smoochy-poochy couples carrying on in the cafeteria while sitting all by his lonesome. Harrison, Harrison, Harrison, when will you realize that you don't need someone in your peer group, or even on your own television show, but instead that you could be divinely happy with me?
After school, Sam dives right into tennis practice with the Tunapots and Leo. The Tunapots make crazy sexy animal noises, but Sam just brushes her hair coyly off of her face, which means she's going to be a lot less fun in the sack. is a shot of Sam guzzling water straight from the jug while Brooke looks on in horror. Don't worry, Brooke, it's just an open refrigerator. It won't make you fat unless you actually consume some of the foodstuffs inside it. More snarking and bickering, at least until Jane comes into the room. Brooke gives Sam the stink-eye, then asks Jane if it would be okay to have Josh over for a nice family dinner on Friday night. Sam interjects that she has a date on Friday, but that she might be able to "juggle her schedule around" so that her new man can come to dinner, too. I sense some uncomfortable hijinks right. Around. The corner. Don't you?
Just in time for my favorite End Of The World Nike commercial. For a slave-labor-using, environment-pillaging, scary corporation, they sure do have some funny ads. Ooh. The Shadow People. The Shadow People love diamonds. It's all they care about. Heinz has issues. Hee hee hee. I love that one. I know that makes me an asshole. And an ad for Charmed. Hi, owen! (You should read his recaps. They're really good.)
Ahem. Back to the show. "Time for Sugar D to get real and connect." Um, can we go back to the commercials, please? So SD proposes a meeting with the mysterious Gwyneth, who readily agrees. The tension that's starting to crawl up my spine turns right back around and settles down, though, when the camera cuts to Poppy Fresh leading the Knees Together meeting. BWA-HA-HA! She's wearing one of those little Loli-Pop outfits, and delivers the killer line, "Knees Together: it's all about abstinence. It's the only way to prevent the misery that walks hand-in-hand with knockin' boots." I'd like to reiterate, BWA-HA-HA! Okay, we're halfway through the show and I'm still laughing. Things are looking up. Oh, but the only other members of the club are the Tunapots.
Ohhh, the Loli-Pop song is blaring while Little Big Head and Harrison hand out balloon animals that look strangely . . . flesh-colored. Could it be that they are more than just balloons? LBH hands a balloon poodle to May Tuna and says, "Have sex with it." May looks as if she might like to eat it, but instead says, "But it's a poodle!" "Have sex with it." I can't believe this is happening on prime-time. When I stop laughing, I'm going to be really impressed. Ah, jeez, trust Nurse Glass to rain on the parade. In a tour de force of plot subtlety unparalleled since Scooby Doo, she reveals that the balloon animals are really condoms and that those blasted kids are going to have to deal with detention for daring to hand them out at school. There's Smug Bitch! I was wondering where she's been hiding. She says a whole bunch of really mean things to Little Big Head, mostly about her flat chest and her lack of sexual experience. LBH is suitably bummed by these slams, and I feel like telling her not to worry, because once she gets into college she's going to discover a whole universe of hot vegan bike-boys who are just crazy for girls like us. I mean, her. Ahem. Anyway.
In some other part of the school, possibly the library, or perhaps some sort of study hall, Brooke is still ragging on Josh for not "communicating." Quit it, already, Brooke, you're giving chicks a bad name! Josh takes it all really well, and gives just the sweetest little speech about how happy he is to quietly hang out with Brooke, holding hands and saying nothing at all. Damn. Maybe I should consider trading Harrison in? Nah. She continues to wig until he agrees to come to this obviously contrived dinner with her family, at which point she whips out a composition book full of conversation primers for him to study. What a great boyfriend! He didn't even snicker or anything. Either he's the world's coolest teenage boy, or he's so stupid and docile that he just might pass for a piece of furniture. You be the judge.
Smart one, Nurse Glass. Put the two sex-promoters into detention in a private room with two beds. Since when do school nurses give people detention, anyway? All my school nurse ever did was tell me that I wasn't sick enough to go home and that she could only give me regular-strength asprin for cramps. Uh-oh. I sense sexual tension building. Um, it sounds like Little Big Head and Harrison are propositioning one another. Oh, God, I am so tense I can hardly watch. (Warning: tangent directly ahead. Feel free to skip to the paragraph.) I so remember being that age and thinking just like they are, that sex could be totally baggage-free and friendly and safe, just like hanging out after school, but naked. *Sigh.* Sometimes this show makes me feel really cynical and old. Remember, kids: with precious few exceptions, there is always some kind of emotional freakiness when you do It. Please be careful with your own and other folks' hearts. Okay. Enough with the messages, already. We will now resume the regular recap.
To celebrate my return to the regular recap, the producers have put on some Latin-y music, I think a tango, which, if you didn't know, always means sexy hijinks. Thanks, guys! Sam and Leo are having a private tennis lesson (nudge nudge, wink wink), complete with super-close-ups of: Sam's mouth, Sam's eyes, Leo's hand on Sam's elbow, Leo's hand on Sam's leg, Leo's hand on Sam's hand. We get it! Or maybe we don't, so just to make sure, the two of them spend this whole scene talking about sex. Sam asks Leo how he lost it, and he tells her this elaborate, romantic story about how he lost it on that very tennis court many years ago. (Ouch! Foreshadowing, if you don't stop poking me I'm not going to watch TV with you anymore, okay?) Sam, unable to stand the ham-handed (under)pass (man, I crack myself up sometimes) that Leo's not quite making at her, whirls around and asks him out to dinner. He smirks at her as if to say, "Yeah, the man's still got it, don't he? Baby, get in line!" But what he really does is decline her invitation in a really smug tone of self-satisfaction. Fortunately for us, Sam is too clever to take such an obvious dodge, and intercedes with an even more obvious dodge of her own: she fakes a twisted ankle. Without moving a step, she suddenly twists her ankle so badly that he, of course, has to help her out, drive her home, et cetera. Um. This one is too easy. You take it. No, really, it's all yours. You guys are definitely ready to handle a simple one like this without me even spotting you. I'm so proud of you, I brag on you all the time to the girls at the office.
One more tangent and then I promise I'll quit: a few minutes ago I remembered that my mom gave me a huge bag of homemade Chex mix over the Thanksgiving holiday, so I'm now munching down on a big bowl of this suburban dream-treat. It's made everything better, even if it is a little stale. It's got Christmas-tree-shaped pretzels in it, and Goldfish crackers, too. But apparently it's not quite as good as Jane's hummus, which is an appetizer at the "family" dinner. (Nice segue, eh?) Josh suavely comments that the hummus "rocks," while Mike and Jane wonder aloud where Sam must be. "Maybe she's still looking for her boyfriend," snarks Brooke. Too bad for Brooke that she's going to have to eat those words (first solid food she's had in months), because in strides Leo with Sam in his arms, looking for all the world like a conquering tennis-barbarian from a bootleg Sam Raimi film. "Mmmmmm," gloats Sam, "smells great. Let's eat!" Yeah, Leo, we see that look of dismay, that look of being "had" on your face. And we decree that that's what you get for chatting up your fifteen-year-old little sister's best friend on the tennis court. Don't mess with teenage girls, man. They're savage. ["Word, word, a thousand times word." -- Sars]
Dear Santa: For Christmas, I would like to attend a banquet a la The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, And Her Lover, where all of the stars of this Old Navy Performance Fleece commercial are roasted like pigs and served on big silver platters. Oh, yeah, and a date with Beck. I love Beck. Very sincerely, amorgan.
When we return from the commercial break, we find that Sam is industriously applying a whole lotta makeup. A voice sings in the background, "Uhhhh, Leoooo, you're in trub-ble!" Man, she is all gussied up, in a slinky black dress and little necklace. Pleased with her reflection, she runs down the stairs, remembering to fake a really bad limp only at the very last second after everyone has already seen that she doesn't have one at all. Smooth. Not. Mike compliments her on her dress and asks if it's new. Brooke busts in before Sam can say anything, "It is new, I just bought it yesterday and haven't had a chance to wear it yet!" Now what did I tell you? Learned it from her mama. Didn't I tell you? Yes, I did. Jane asks Leo if he's absolutely sure that he can't stay for dinner, and he's just on the verge of declining when Sam desperately catches his eye. In an utterly nice-guy move, he agrees to stay for dinner, and even plays the part of Sam's boyfriend throughout. He even remains cool under the intense, barely-concealed accusations of abject cradle-robbing that Mike and Jane throw at him. Okay, I have a confession to make. The ensuing dinner conversation actually made me so tense, yet simultaneously bored, that I just fast-forwarded through it. But I'm sure I know what happened. And I'm sure that you do, too. Right. Lots of confused-parent stuff from Mike and Jane, and lots of hostile-freaky-snarky stuff from Brooke and Sam, with Josh and Leo caught in the cross-fire. ["Josh, following the instructions Brooke provided earlier, makes a stupid and ill-timed remark about Bosnia somewhere in there, which makes me think you'd better go with the 'stupid and docile' theory." -- Sars] With that settled, let's move on the scene, shall we?
In the scene, Sugar Daddy is perpetuating fashion crimes so unsettling that they should maybe have not been shown on television. Black shirt (slimming, but so tacky), silver tie, box of Valentine candies. Poor guy. I hope he gets a break soon.
And away we go, in the lobby of a downtown hotel. Harrison stands before the desk clerk, who is an older man with a distinguished accent. By "distinguished" I mean "kind of British or something." He takes Harrison's ID. "Fake?" HA! Busted, Harrison nods. The clerk gives him a piercing look. "Virgin?" BWA-HA-HA! Harrison nods again, in total embarrassment. "Hooker?" Harrison shakes his head in dismay. "Can you pay for the room?" My sweet boy pulls out a wad of cash and hands it to the man, who then hands H the key to a room: "There you go." Oh, jeez, I am so into this episode. Hoo! Sugar Daddy walks in right as Harrison walks out, and the desk clerk watches with interest as Sugar Daddy makes his way to the hotel bar.
Back at the Palace, Sam and Leo take off, much to Jane's dismay. She and Mike have a little interlude about how they trust or don't trust their daughters. Then Brooke totally comes on to Josh. I'm voting for the "don't trust" party, myself.
Is that a Fleetwood Mac song? Or is that Supertramp? I think it's Supertramp. Harrison, big sweetie, pulls about a million candles out of his suitcase, plus a boom box, balloon-animal condoms, scattered rose petals, and a zillion flavors of Slushees. I am so in love with him. In the lobby, Sugar Daddy waits and waits and waits. Oh, man, Brooke and Josh are checking into the same hotel. Is there only one hotel in town? The desk clerk must be having a field day. Okay, now Little Big Head (I hate to say this, but she looks totally hot and cute) walks past a lime green purse belonging to one "Gwyneth." Uh-oh. "Gwyneth" is actually Carmen, looking as pretty as a picture. Carmen spots Sugar Daddy, realizes what's up, and bails. Carmen, you are so lame. I'm glad this show isn't all about you, after all. You suck. Sugar Daddy's breaking my heart, all stranded and lonely at the bar. Thankfully, he does the only sensible thing and eats all of his Valentine's chocolate. Because he's fat. And that's all fat people do. Don't forget. That's right, SD, wash it down with Diet Coke.
Little Big Head looks damned fine as she knocks on the door of the hotel room. She's even got a sparkly little suitcase. Oh, those are Jamba Juices, not Slushees. Harrison is so nervous he's about to crawl out of his skin. They sit side by side on the bed, and awkwardly toast to feeling incredibly awkward. Awesome sound effects of them sucking on their juices. Hee. She gets up to "change into something more comfortable," leaving Harrison grinning like a goon on the bed. In another room, Brooke has also changed into something more comfortable. Like flannel pajamas. Josh asks why she isn't wearing something slinky, and she says that she doesn't really wear those slinky things, and that they should try to be more themselves when messing with this sort of sexy business. They are also so nervous that they're making me really nervous. I think Josh is the best boyfriend in the entire world. Too bad Brooke is a sketchy teenage girl with an eating disorder and serious misconceptions about the way sex changes relationships. I foresee some heavy emotional scar tissue in Josh's future. Bummer.
Back at the tennis court, Leo and Sam are sitting in a circle of candles. Did they buy all those candles at the grocery store before going to the tennis court? Did Leo just have them in his car? Where did they come from? Sam looks like she's waiting for a kiss. Leo kisses her. On the forehead. Psych! What a bastard. He asks Sam what the deal was with dinner that night. Then he tells her that he can't hook up with her because he's still got a lot of baggage from his last relationship, and that it's not her, it's him. The timing just isn't right, you know? Okay, I made that up. He really tells her that she's jailbait. Duh. In a stupendously random segue, he also tells her that he lied about losing his virginity, and that it was awkward and horrible.
Is this the requisite poignancy scene? It is. Hold on to your seats it's a killah. Harrison sits on the bed in his skivvies, grinning. That is, until Little Big Head comes out of the bathroom and BREAKS HIS HEART. She tells him that they can't do It because they're friends, and that she's not attracted to him sexually. Nice one, asshole. She goes on, "If you're honest with yourself, you'll realize that that's how you feel about me, too." Uh-huh. That's why he's about to cry, right? He tries so hard to be cool, but he's just about to crack. Shut up, LBH. Shut up, shut up, shut up. She offers to take him out to the diner, but he declines, because she BROKE HIS HEART. Oh, shit, and it doesn't stop there. In another room in the hotel, Brooke is whispering, "Josh? Are you awake, Josh?" while Josh lies stone asleep after It. And downstairs, Sugar Daddy sits at the bar with an empty box of chocolate wrappers and a quivering lower lip. Where oh where is Mary Cherry when I need her?
The day at school, Carmen rushes into the cafeteria to talk to Sugar Daddy. He's all bummed. This part of the show is so sad. Damn. Okay, so Carmen apologizes to Sugar Daddy, and they bond over their mutual dissatisfaction with their bodies, and also over potato chips. Because they're fat. Did you forget? Well, don't. They promise to stay friends online. Snarf. Then Little Big Head tries to make things good with Harrison by being all jokey, but it's so not working. So she compliments his teeth. He hardly buys it, but we know that by episode things are going to be back to normal. Feh. She's not good enough for you, anyway, Harrison. Last in the couples-not-working-out series comes the Brooke and Josh pairing. Dang! She's breaking up with him! That's sooooo harsh! Poor guy. He seems so stable and sweet, but Brooke is so unstable and insecure that she will never be satisfied. He's all crying, and he even looks like he's crying. Poor guy. I hope he doesn't let this screw up the whole rest of his adolescence and twenties.
Man. This is exhausting. In the Kim Novak Ladies' Lounge, Brooke is already becoming bitter about her first time. Sam comes in to tell her that Leo shot her down, and Brooke says that she didn't exactly win the bet, either. Soooo, they do what anyone would do - they join Knees Together! Poppy says her fabulous line again (I'm too lazy to type it, but not too lazy to type about it), and when she says, "Who's with me?" the entire room is full of Brown and Blondes and Tunapots, all raising their hands while "You're Nobody Until Somebody Loves You" plays in the background. And it's over. Phew.