Dom, sitting on the beach, explains that Tami is "very ambitious." We see Tami, yukking it up backstage at Studs, and then, sitting under a bridge, where she explains that she and Kenya, her Studs Bachelor #1, are "cheating." Not on one another, but on Studs, in an attempt to fix the show. It's just like the Twenty-One scandal, except Robert Redford would never make a movie about Tami's classless attempt to score a free chaperoned trip to Jamaica and $600, and even if he did, it's unlikely he could convince my former boyfriend, Ralph Fiennes, to star as Tami's partner in crime. And don't even try to tell me that Ralph Fiennes was not my boyfriend, because he totally was; I was famous -- famous, I tell you! -- for the shrine I had erected to Ralph in my dorm room. People I didn't even know would recognize me, on the street, mind you, as "the girl with the Ralph Shrine." So shut up.
On the set of Studs Tami is introduced as a "health-care worker." In an interview, she explains that she and Kenya have planned to choose one another at the end of the show, and then they're "going to cash [their] checks" and Tami is going to make Kenya spend his share on her. And she's going to spend her own share on herself. She chortles.
We're "treated" to Tami's segments on Studs. She explains why Kenya is a "good kisser" as the studio audience whoo-hoos and does the Arsenio twirly fist thing (remember, it's 1993). Kenya is so not as cute as the other guy. Maybe he's more malleable to Tami's iron will. In the audience, Jon and his Mullet laugh together. Tami, in an interview, admits that she forgot about part of the game when she was plotting out her master scheme to screw Studs -- namely the part wherein the "stud" answers various questions, getting little Velcro hearts for every correct answer. The dude with the most hearts wins. Tami neglected to figure this aspect of the highly complicated game into her plan. Sadly, Kenya does not get the most hearts, so, although Kenya and Tami pick one another, Bachelor #2 and Bachelorette #3 win. Foiled again!
Tami admits that she was using Kenya for the trip, and the money, and that she told Kenya that if he was "waiting for [her] to call him, then he's going to be waiting a very long time." She cackles that she hasn't talked to him since. Her earrings are the size of small Russian provinces.
Establishing shot. Establishing shot. Establishing Shot. Mommy, make it stop.
In the beach house, Tami tells Dom that Aaron is cute. "For a white boy," retorts Dom, snidely.
Over the pool table, Dom tells Aaron that he's "going to teach him a lesson," and calls him a "lily-white Orange Country son of a bitch." Aaron just chuckles.
We learn that Aaron was his high school's student body president and president of the National Honor Society. Apparently, he's returned to said high school to give some kind of pep talk to the seniors. His high-school principal tells the crowd that Aaron is ready to graduate from UCLA with a degree in Business (which is a lie, because UCLA does not have a Business major. I believe he's an Econ major with a Business emphasis. But I quibble), and that he loves to surf. Cue the montage of Aaron going all Luke Perry in the credits of , riding the waves and pushing back his floppy hair.
Aaron gives the students a boring speech. Dude.
Back at the house, Aaron tells Dom that "Orange County is nice." Dom calls OC "Orwellian" and mentions Hitler. That's a little harsh, but for those of you who don't know, Orange County is way more conservative and white than Los Angeles proper, so I see where Dom is coming from. Dom tells Aaron that Orange County has no character, a statement with which -- I'm sorry, all you Orange County readers -- I have to agree. Aaron watches Dom play pool, and compliments him on his game, telling him he made "a good shot for a Communist."
Jon, Prince of Mullets, explains that Dom and Aaron are complete opposites. Dude, really? Color me surprised. Beth chortles that, in her opinion, Aaron is secretly in love with Dom. I have to say that, considering how different they truly are, I always found it rather touching that Dom and Aaron became such good friends. I think it speaks well of both of them that they were able to agree to disagree on so many issues, and get along so famously. On the other hand, they got along famously by bonding over how much they hated everyone else in the house, and how superior they were. So that kinda, you know, makes it not as nice and stuff.
Sorry about that. Back to your regularly-scheduled snarkiness.
Aaron explains that Dom is really intelligent, and has made him understand issues from the "other side of the coin." Interesting choice of words.
Oh, God. Thanks for that shot of the Lambda Chi house, Bunim/Murray. I walked past that house twice a day, on my way to and from school. It also had -- and probably still does have -- the grossest bathrooms on UCLA's frat row. And that is saying a lot. Although they did have this charity function every year called "Chippendale's Night," wherein some of the guys in the house would put on a strip show for whoever wanted to come and ogle them and drink Jell-O shots. That was fun. Afterward, of course, came the part where you had to fend off the drunken frat guys who weren't cute enough to be in the show, who artfully tried to pick you up by touching your fuzzy vest and asking you what kind of fabric it was, in some kind of awkward attempt to get their hands as close to your breasts as possible. That was less fun. Anyway. Where was I? Aaron, right.
God, back at the pool table, Aaron and Dom argue about Social Security. Dom warns Aaron not to set him up for some kind of crazy string of right-wing rhetoric, and I pray that he manages to hold him off. Aaron chortles. Dom explains that, at times, Aaron is narrow-minded. Ya think? At the pool table, Dom wonders what Aaron learned "at his rich, ultra-white, conservative college" that particular day.
Whoa. Them's fighting words. I think Dom is thinking of another Los Angeles university, because UCLA, especially in 1993, before the state of California dismantled affirmative action, is a rather racially diverse school, and as a state school, certainly does not have an unusually wealthy student body, and has, in fact, a very vocal liberal student faction. I just don't want any of y'all getting the wrong idea, that's all.
In his bedroom, Aaron muses that Bill Clinton "might be the anti-Christ." Oh, dear sweet God. Remember how last recap, I mentioned that I might have gotten along with Aaron? I totally take that back.
Dom and Aaron, in separate interviews, admit that they get along. Alert the media: Someone in the beach house is getting along! In the kitchen, Mullet Master 2000 mixes Kool-Aid. Dom and Aaron chuckle over Jon's addiction to sugar. Aaron makes fun of Jon for drinking Hawaiian Punch while he watches Billy Ray Cyrus. I would have been making fun of the fact that Jon is sitting, literally, three inches away from the TV screen, but that's just me.
In an interview, Jon plaintively comments that he's glad Dom and Aaron get along, but that sometimes, they leave other people out.
Dom and Aaron hop into a cab at the Third Street Promenade (wow, a cab in Los Angeles. I have taken a cab in this city twice in twenty-five years, and both times it was home from the airport ["Before Glark and I finessed a way to drive our totally-not-smog-checked, totally-lacking-California-plates 1991 Dodge Colt (R.I.P.) in Los Angeles, we used to take cabs everywhere. And we would always have to call for one, because they never cruise around. It was a real hassle when we had ten bags of groceries. We'd have to eat all our Dole Bars before the cab came, lest they melt. Oh, and the Third Street Promenade was our second home. I love you, Jamba Juice!" -- Wing Chun]), and ask the driver to take them to Moose McGillicutty's. I'm sorry, but I have no pithy personal insight on Moose McGullicutty's. In the back of the cab, Dom asks Aaron if Moose McGillicutty's is "happening." The cabby wonders "where is that place?" There's a silence at both Dom and Aaron realize that the cabby is driving them nowhere. Aaron comments warily that he thought the cabby was taking them there. "Ohhhhh, Moooooooose," the cabby says. "M-o-s-s-e?" he spells, and laughs, rather drunkenly. "Mooooooooose," he repeats, and goes all America's Best Spellers on them, again, moaning "M-O-S-E!" Dom and Aaron fear for their lives. Aaron half-heartedly attempts to correct the cabby's spelling, but gives up. Somehow, they make it to the bar.
They drink.
The boys arrive at the beach house later that night, Dom totally wasted. He falls into bed and covers himself up, presumably to pass out. Beth, in the room with him, picks up his blankets and looks at...well, his junk, I guess. Aaron, in an interview, says that he thought Beth was drunk, because she kept, you know, sexually harassing Dom. Dom wonders aloud, drunkenly, what Beth is doing. She races out of the bedroom, and brings Tami back in, lifting up the blanket AGAIN (Bear this entire incident in mind in about five episodes, will ya? Thanks). In an interview, Beth explains that she was just looking at Dom's "cute little boxers," as though that's the most natural thing in the world. In an interview, Jon says he was wondering what the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks Beth was doing. In the bedroom, Beth tells Dom that she never realized how much hair he had on his chest. She caresses his chest! What is she doing? Jon comments that Beth must be horny. In an interview, Beth disputes this, claiming, again, that she was just looking at his underwear. Again, remember this incident, please. Aaron accuses Beth, in the girls' room, of "checking out [Dom's] package." Beth tosses her hair and denies it, blushing. Um, want to hear some armchair psychology? Well, you're gonna. I think Beth does have a little crush on Dom, or at least, wanted to go for a ride on the Dominator, if you know what I mean. And she, in her immature and socially retarded fashion, thought that she could turn Dom on by merely inserting herself into his bedroom, er, situation when he was in a drunken state. Like Dom would figure, Bloody hell, this girl's already seen me twig and berries. Let's have a go of it, lass! Naturally, her scheme backfired, because that plan only works for the Jessica Wakefields of this world. And the Elizabeth Wakefields, but only when they've had motorcycle crash and emerged from their coma acting like their impetuous and irrepressible identical twin!
In the kitchen, Beth asks Aaron if he's ever played baseball, because she's auditioning "for this TV show. About baseball. And it takes place in the 1940s." Aaron, a conservative white boy, yes, but no dummy, interrupts her, with "A League of Their Own? TV version?" Beth is all surprised that Aaron has cracked her code. She asks Aaron for baseball advice. In an interview, Dom says that while he never specifically called Beth a drama queen, "if the shoe fits..." Hee hee.
Beth tells us that she was really excited about her audition. At the audition, though, she's all surprised, because, Ohmigod, some of the girls there could actually play baseball, and that they "sent [her] back to the B team." Like you were ever varsity material to begin with, Beth. I saw that footage. You throw like my grandma, and she's been dead since '97. (Hi Grandma! If you're reading this from beyond, can you put in a good word for me with the Lord? Because I lost a lot of money on the slots recently, and I'd like to recoup it with a small lotto winning. Thanks!)
Irene, in an interview, says that Dom and Aaron have become "a little clique" in the house. Beth sighs that Dom and Aaron make fun of her and Jon too much. Beth is probably right, Dom and Aaron can be totally jerky, but Irene's comment bugs me. I'm so tired of adults getting worked up about so-called cliques. This isn't junior high. Not everyone has to act like everyone else's bestest friend in the world. If Dom and Aaron like to hang out together without inviting all and sundry every single damn time, they're allowed to do that (although there are numerous instances in this season when Dom and Aaron invite the house to join them in any number of activities, but whatever). Their cliquishness is a whole separate issue from their being rude to other housemates, and, frankly, I think the latter is the real problem.
Beth tells Jon, Dom and Aaron that she's going to have two visitors the same weekend and, Oh. My. God! What is she going to do? She can't have two visitors on the same weekend! Jeepers, this just like the time Gidget had three dates in one night! Dom suggests that Beth is perturbed because she can't have sex with either one of them if they're both there. Beth insists that she isn't having sex with either of her visitors no matter what! Dom snerks that neither one of them would visit her if they knew that.
Beth has a headache. That's what happens for the five minutes of footage. Seriously. She's a drama queen, and she has a headache.
Welcome to the Official Beth S. / Jessica Wakefield Montage. Beth laughing. Beth tossing her hair. Beth leaping around the living room. Beth telling Bruce Pattman that, despite the fact that she's been walking around his pool in her sky-blue French bikini all day, she doesn't plan to let him get it off her anytime soon. Oops, that was in Sweet Valley High 12: Dangerous Curves. Or something.
Beth's cat finally meets with that accident Dom so darkly predicted; it fell from the loft, bonked its head on the water cooler, and bounced to the floor. Beth worries about internal bleeding. Or a tumor. But the cat's okay. America breathes a sigh of relief.
Beth considers not going skiing with the rest of her roommates, because she's still worried about Mr. Wiskerson, or whatever that damn cat's name is. Aaron -- rather nicely, I think -- tries to talk Beth into coming. He picks up Wiskery McWiskerson and speaks in his best feline falsetto, telling Beth that it doesn't snow that much in Southern California, and his (you know, the cat's) back doesn't hurt that bad! Nevertheless, Beth decides not to go skiing. She has to nurse her cat back to health.
Dom, Aaron and some other snow bunny that I can't ID head up to Snow Summit for a little boarding. They're about as good at that as I am: not very. In the line for the ski lift, Dom comments that "it's times like this that [he] miss[es] Jon. When there's the possibility of an avalanche." Snerk. I'm sorry, that was mean. But at least it was funny! That counts for something. In an interview, Dom says the roommates are all worried about Jon, actually, because he never leaves the house. He just lays in bed until noon, gets up, combs his mullet, makes a batch of Kool-Aid, and sits down to read The National Enquirer and watch The Nashville Network all day long. I dunno, that sounds fairly entertaining to me.
Aaron and David wonder if Jon would like their help getting a job, at a western bar, maybe. Jon doesn't want their help. He doesn't want a gosh-durned job. Aaron says he isn't Jon's dad, and he isn't going to yell at him, but that Jon is really wasting a great opportunity by laying around all day. Damn it. See, I was all hating Aaron this episode, but that makes sense. I hate it when he says something sensible.
Jon makes some crazy analogy about being the new fish in the fish tank. Basically, he's scared to leave the house, but he'll get over it if everyone gives him a little time. Can they also give him a haircut? Thanks.
In the pool room, Aaron and Dom banter. Jon and his mullet loll on the sofa. At one point, in a sad attempt to give props to one of Aaron's bon mots, Jon quips, "That'll learn you." Dom and Aaron laugh at the ignorant farm boy, and make inbreeding and hick jokes! Jon sighs. Actually, I think use of the phrase "learn you" in place of "teach you" is a Southern colloquialism, and is no more incorrect than the Southern Californian's habit of using the word "like" or the phrase "is all" as synonyms for the verb "to say." Jon's use of the term does not connote ignorance, but serves merely to place him sociologically in a particular geographic region. I got an A in linguistic anthropology, y'all. Who says you don't use the stuff you learn in school?
Irene, in an interview, says it pisses her off when Aaron makes fun of Jon. Irene, my God, your hair appears to be actually devouring your head.
Jon wonders how he ought to handle Aaron. He admits that he doesn't like it when Aaron makes fun of him, but it's not like he's going to challenge him to a fight. Too bad, because that would have made for great television.
Irene takes pity on poor house-bound Jon and brings him home with her for the weekend. Jon comments that he likes Irene's home town, because it's not too fast-paced. He and Irene and Tim play basketball with some randoms who are never identified. Jon chortles that he's pleased as punch Irene took him home for the weekend. Irene self-righteously snips that, unlike her awful, mean, stupid roommates, she likes to take care of Jon, she feels like a mother to him, and she hates the way Aaron "degrates [sic] him." Blah, blah, blah.
In the kitchen of the beach house, Aaron and Dom fiddle with Jon's Kool-Aid, pouring a whole lot of sugar into it, and putting it back in the fridge, all hopped up and spiked. Dude, Dom, there's such a frat boy inside you, despite the spiky hair and Doc Martens. You and Aaron are peas in a freaking pod, man.
In an interview, Dom insists that their teasing of Jon is all in good fun, and that they like him very much. Really. They do.
In the confessional, Jon swears his eternal devotion to country music. Seriously.
Irene and Tim take Jon to a local country line-dancing bar, which, surprise, surprise, he loves. He talks his way into singing with the bad, telling them that he's twenty-three. Surprisingly, the band is into it. Jon gets on stage, and dude, he brings the house down with "Boot Scoot Boogie." Say what you will about the kid, he's got some stage presence. Not as much as some other singing sensations I could mention, but, then again, The Western Connection is no Captain Tong's. If you know what I mean.