Outside the Beachhouse of Banality, three swings swing forlornly. Waves crash on the beach. It's still dark out. But lo, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Irene is up at the crack of dawn, getting ready to go to work while the rest of her lazy-ass roommates slumber peacefully. In an interview, Irene -- with huge poofy hair -- tells us that she likes to shower and change at work, and she doesn't disturb any of her aforementioned lazy-ass roommates when she gets up at 5 AM. The delightful "There She Goes" tinkles in the background as we see Irene trudge down what looks like a deserted alley to her car, and drive to work.
In another interview, Irene -- with even huger, poofier hair -- tells us, "There's a lot of danger in what I do." This statement is punctuated by a shot of Irene at the firing range, shooting her gun. But, see, those brilliant hucksters at Bunim-Murray Productions juxtapose that super-manly gunplay stuff with a few shots of old Irene shaving her legs and plucking her eyebrows. Because she's all girly, too, doncha know? As Irene straps her gun on, she states the obvious: "I'm a female, and I'm a police officer." Thanks for clearing that up.
In an interview, Tami and The Earrings tell us that "it's weird" living with an arm of the law, especially because she's scared that Irene will find out "about some things [she] did when [she] was younger" and lock her away. We see Irene working it, but she's not, like, pulling people over, or running sting operations. She's standing around in a courtroom, giving perps the dirty eyeball. Not that that isn't a noble cause, and all, but please -- she's no Lenny Briscoe.
In another interview, Tami -- who suddenly has long, weird blonde hair, tied back with a bandana (so that The Earrings are visible) -- tells us that she's breaking the law every time she gets in her car, because she's driving with a suspended license. She explains that her license was suspended because she never paid her parking tickets, and that she owes the state over $2000 and she could go to jail. She laughs hysterically. The Earrings swing madly. One hits her in the face.
In an interview, Irene provides us with one of the best Real World quotes in this series so far, when she says: "I am the law. Twenty-four hours a day." Whatever. Good thing you're not in the fashion police, because you'd be court-martialed for that 'do. Seriously. Cut. Your. Hair.
David and Jon are lolling about their room; David makes fun of country music. Because nothing is in either closet or on any shelves in the room yet, I think this must have happened, like, the day everyone moved in. Jon chuckles that he'd like to make fun of rap music, but he can't, "because it's full of bad words," none of which he can say. Hee. David explains that "rap is never meant to be nice." Somewhere, this being 1993, DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince glower. The Fresh Prince, in particular, vows to show David that, in fact, nice rap can sell records, no matter what David, or that Slim Shady person says! Jon then makes up his own little rap, as an example of all that he dislikes about that genre of music. No bad words are mentioned, and he never uses the word "bitch" or "ho." Instead, let me transcribe Jon's little rap tune. This is all accompanied by exaggerated Run DMC arm movements, just so you know. Ahem: "I'm the baddest person in the world/ I'm the baddest / You don't mess with me / Homeboy this!/ Word." This is the part where I pause the tape and laugh and laugh and laugh. As David is explaining to Jon that all that "'word' stuff" is mere stereotyping, his beeper goes off. Jon asks him if he's "selling drugs." David gets all aggro about Jon making assumptions again, but Jon explains that he asked that as an homage to the episode of RW New York, wherein Julie asked Heather if she's dealing drugs because Heather had a beeper. David glowers. MTV runs the Julie/Heather clip, all slo-mo and black-and-white noir.
Jon and David argue in the pool room, Jon complaining that he has to fall asleep to David's "jazz stuff," and then asking if David has any idea how much he's had to listen to "Hip Hop Hooray." Again: hee. And also, that whirring sound was any number of actual jazz musicians spinning in their respective graves at the idea that "Hip Hop Hooray" is, by any stretch of the imagination, jazz. David asks if Jon wants a "divorce." Jon does. In the poolroom, David wigs and leaps out of his chair and screams that Jon "wins." Okay, so Jon and David? Roommate relations problems. Got that? Because I know it's a little hard to grasp.
That conflict established, we move onto the Dom Hates Beth portion of our show. Which is fun, really, because who doesn't hate Beth? Dom, basically, is irritated that Beth brought her cat into the house without checking to make sure it was okay with the rest of the roommates, and is also annoyed because this basically forces his beloved German shepherd, George, into permanent exile. I'd like to point out, again, how very rude it was of Beth to bring that cat with her. I like cats, but being around one for more than an hour makes my airways close and my face swell to five times its normal size. Hence, with a cat I cannot live. I would be real pissed if a roommate assumed it was all right to bring a pet without checking first. Anyhow, George, who's visiting Dom, chases the cat right into Beth's room, as Dominic lopes after him, and Beth squeals like a banshee and jumps around. I hate her. Just so you know. Beth, if you're reading this: I hate you.
Beth tells us that "there's no way [she's] giving up that cat. We're just going to have to work it out." Selfish. Did I mention the hatred?
Dom says that he doesn't want to leave George in the house when he's not there, and that it's clear that the cat "is here to stay until something happens to it." He waits a beat and, very deadpan, adds, "That's not a threat."
In the kitchen, Dom complains that the cat is always on his bed. Beth says that they just need to move the feline if she isn't there to do it, and then comments, "I'm going to get castrated for this cat." And there you have it, folks, the biggest Real World revelation of all: Beth is a man. Dom wonders if Beth even "considered everyone else's feelings" when she brought the cat into the house. Beth just giggles and flips her layered hair.
Near the pool table, Dom explains to Aaron, "Cats remind me of women. And women have been pissing me off lately." Aaron laughs, pulls his baseball cap down farther over his eyes and prays that none of his professors are watching.
So, Beth tells the roommates that her friend James has invited them all to a party in Beverly Hills, "and there's going to be a band, and there's supposed to be mega-people." What does that mean? Oh, whatever. Anyway, Beth ropes most of her roommates into agreeing to come to what sounds, to me, like a very bad party, and leaps on Dom's bed and acts all coy to try to convince him. At one point in the convincing, she tells him that her cat will "kick [his] dog's ass." I don't even know what she means by that, or how that is supposed to be enticing. Is that a weird come-on? Is it a threat? Anyway, the kids take off for the party, Irene, Jon and Beth in one car, Dom, Aaron and David in the other. I guess Tami and The Earrings had other plans.
In the boys' car, Aaron, who's driving, is wondering where the hell they're going, and surmises that Jon is playing navigator, because the route they're taking makes no sense to him. We, the viewers, however, see that Jon is just lolling in the back seat.
Boys' car: Aaron can't believe how far they are from Beverly Hills, dude.
Girls' car: Beth is getting her period. Jon doesn't want to hear it.
Boys' car: Aaron has no idea where they're going.
Girls' car: Beth quizzes Jon on the difference between tampons and pads. I make a deal with God; if he makes this conversation stop, I'll never cuss again.
Boys' car: Aaron notes that they're on San Vicente (a street which is not in Beverly Hills) and is relieved to at least know where he is, again. This is the moment where my native Angeleno knowledge comes into play. If they started from Venice, and are coming to San Vicente from this direction, they have gone in a complete circle. Good work navigating, y'all. Irene, a.k.a. The Law, runs a red light. Aaron punches the steering wheel.
Girls' Car: SHIT! FUCK! BITCH!
The roommates arrive at the party, Dom says the party looks cool, and that it's "gonna be great." And that's when they get kicked out. Because the host doesn't know them, and she doesn't know Beth. And she wants them to leave. Aaron hides behind a tree and wonders why he didn't stay home and study.
Beth says in an interview that she "doesn't even want to hear about [getting kicked out of the party]! They're gonna bitch about it. Especially The Dom-er." The Dom-er. Yeah, there's going to be some bitching if you call him that to his face.
Upstairs, Beth wonders if she ought to go down and talk to Dom and Aaron about the snafu. Jon wisely advises her to let them cool down first. She ignores his advice and stomps down there to clear the air with the power of her coy smile and poufy bangs.
In the kitchen, David, Aaron and Dom are making spaghetti. As Beth enters the room, David starts making the "reeeeeeek. Reeeeeeeek" noise that the soundtrack makes in Psycho when Norman is stabbing Janet Leigh in the shower. Dom warns Beth not to talk to him, or he'll "smother [her] in spaghetti." Beth coyly tries to smoothly things over, and in an interview says that she thinks Dom ought to "relax. Nobody killed your mother." She rolls her eyes and chortles girlishly. Back in the kitchen, Dom tells Beth that he thinks it was rude and inconsiderate of her to invite them all to a party where none of them were welcome. Beth laughs, and tosses her hair coyly. Watching this, I've realized that Beth thinks she's one of those pretty girls who can get out of any jam by tossing her hair and batting her eyelashes and acting all coy, like she's Jessica Wakefield or something. Memo to Beth: You're not pretty enough to get away with that. Not by a long shot. Dom tells Beth that if she ever pulls a stunt like that again, he'll kill her. Everyone else looks vaguely uncomfortable. Aaron, again, pulls his Adidas cap lower on his head. "Let's just chill," he says.
David comments that all the white people at the party were looking at him like he stole something. Jon passive-aggressively asks what he "stole." David tells Jon to "lighten up, loosen up those boots and y'all have a good fucking time, because I have had it with you." Much nervous laughter from the rest of the assembled roommates. Jon tells David, lightly, to "move out." With that rapier-sharp wit, David replies, "You fucking move out." Ah, how prophetic this all is in light of future episodes. In an interview, Jon says that David is hard to live with. Oh, my God, really? Because I was still unclear on that particular concept.
Okay, so this is the part where we hear about David's tragic childhood, and why it led to his taking such exemplary care of his clothing today. Yes, that's right. Although this sad tale is accompanied by shots of David being unable to operate an iron, making it look as though he has really never devoted much time to sartorial upkeep, he tells us that his family was poor, and that his mother used to have to dumpster dive to get clothing for him, and now that he can have nice things, he likes to take good care of them. My only comment is that maybe he ought instead to tell stories on national television not about how his mother embarrassed him by digging in other people's trash to put clothes on his back, but, perhaps, instead, about how she somehow managed to raise him with dignity despite the confines of poverty, and how he hopes to be a credit to her remarkable efforts to keep him clothed and fed, and loved. But that would be classy. And this is The Real World. And The Real World is like school on Sunday.
Jon calls his Dad, who is angry that Jon called while "Garth is singing the National Anthem." Hee, for the third time. Irene tells us that Jon makes her laugh, and that she likes and respects him. In her interview, her hair is like...there are no words. Really. It's like...long. Really long. And really frizzy. And there's...just...so much of it. It's...everywhere. It's....unspeakable. It makes my head hurt.
Irene is cleaning her gun on her bed, while Jon watches. He fiddles with her flashlight. He goofs with her handcuffs. He plays with her holster. That sounds dirty, but I mean it literally. He breaks it, and she's mildly annoyed. I'd just like to say that having a loaded gun in that household is a dangerous, dangerous thing. I truly cannot believe that no one was shot.
Irene tells us that she's having a hard time living without Tim, her fiancé, but that she goes into the confessional booth and cries it out. In the confessional, Irene weeps that she'll be okay, and that being away from Tim will make marrying him that much more exciting. This is followed by what looks like an sensual massage instructional video, as some Sade-esque tune chortles in the background, and Irene rubs oil all over a shirtless Tim. I wish to God I was making that up. Sadly, I am not.
On the roof, Beth and Dom talk about Dom's freelancing gigs; he sold two articles to Daily Variety and is stoked. Beth, on the other hand, spent $300 on food at the mall that day. She Jessica Wakefields a laugh and a hair toss. In the confessional, Dom says that he thinks they may all get along after all.
Jon sits on his bed and plays his gee-tar, while David irons. David jokes that the song Jon is singing is "about masturbation." In the doorway, Aaron and Dom, in the time-honored fashion of boys everywhere, burst into guffaws at the word "masturbation." Jon wonders if there isn't something better to talk about than sin. David explains that he likes to push people's buttons. Really? Who knew? In the bedroom, Jon is stunned that David doesn't know the words to "Friends in Low Places," and truthfully, so am I. I thought everyone knew that song. Anyhow, David and Jon chat for a bit about Dolly Parton, and a song of hers about a dog that died, which both of them love. David quips that he's Jon's "cultural brother." See? Music: bringing roommates together.
In an interview, David explains that his relationship with Jon is such that they will be getting along fine, and then "bing! Something happens." Something indeed, because this statement is followed by the stupidest argument in Real World history, wherein Jon and David argue about cleaning up some spilled Styrofoam packing materials. Yes, you read that correctly. Styrofoam peanuts: tearing roommates apart. The best part of the argument is when Aaron, in his Lambda Chi Dad's Day T-shirt, has to jump in and prevent David from physically attacking Jon over the Styrofoam peanuts. No, I take that back. The best part is when David screams, "You're the only motherfucker that has Styrofoam!" Jon just stares at him. Aaron, predictably, tells David to chill, dude. David starts squealing like a girl. Later, in an interview, Jon tells us he was proud of how calmly he handled David during the Great Styrofoam War of 1993. Yeah, put that on your résumé, country boy.