Some guitar noodling and the sound of a phone dialing open this episode. Flora intones that she "has to give these people an answer" as to whether she's going on "this trip" or not, and then Melissa dramatically whines that she caaaan't goooo, because it's her broooother's graduaaaaation! Flora quickly says that if Melissa's not going, she isn't going. This is a kernel -- a nugget -- of what was wrong with the Miami cast: an unwillingness to participate. A fear of discovering something new. An extreme uptightedness. That, and the fact that Flora is a total bitch. In an interview, Sarah intones that Flora stayed home because she thought "it was cool" that Melissa stayed home; Cynthia calls the two princesses "party poopers." Then Melissa tells whomever she's talking to on the phone, "It's not like I'm crying over it; it's not something I would have enjoyed anyway." Oh, how ungrateful. Shut up, Melissa.
A van rolls up with "Miami Nice" painted on its exterior. Heh. We get a quick montage of the other roomies packing and getting ready to go on, we can assume, the free trip that MTV sends all of its Real World cast members on. Dan says that they have no idea where they're going, but that they each have "a bag of clothes and a passport." Where's the excitement? The hooting and hollering? Are we, at year five, already so jaded about getting free trips? Were I in Miami, I would so be rooting for a trip to Cuba. I know MTV has neither the balls nor the means to buck the embargo the U.S. has against Cuba, but I said "rooting," not "expecting." It's called being optimistic. I'm fired, aren't I? ["Why would I fire you? My country has no problem with Cuba." -- Wing Chun] Cyn carefully walks down the stairs and announces that she's not feeling well, adding that she's already barfed today. Hey, me too! Earlier on, when I started this recap! Dan looks scared, Sarah amused. The camera stays with Cyn throughout the whole ride to the airport and onto the plane, where she finally heaves into a plastic bag. The fact that they're on a tiny twin-engine plans probably doesn't help. That and the barrel rolls the pilot thought would be fun to try, knowing full well he has a queasy passenger on board. Sarah takes Polaroids of the barfing.
The plane touches down on a remote, gorgeous green jewel of an island surrounded by pale blue water. The roomies are met by Bardy, a bearded dude who will be their guide. He looks like a hippie, but when in Rome, you know, you have to be nice to your hippie guides or you may not get food. For the sake of survival, I will suspend my punk rock principles. Hey, they're in the Bahamas! The steel drums start up and the group goes to a restaurant. "Are we staying at your house? Is it a mansion?" Sarah asks innocently. Bardy replies, "Oh, the best." There is no visible reaction from the roomies. "Waterfront?" asks Cyn. "The water is really close," says Bardy. Joe raises his eyebrows. Dan says in a voice-over that he has no idea what's going on. Dude, you are in the Bahamas, all expenses paid. My god. Can't any of them unclench long enough to have a good time? Finally, the group breaks into smiles just as the steel drums bong their way to a final crescendo.
Cyn marvels at a little girl skipping rope barefoot on the asphalt road. "Damn, I could not live here! It's too secluded from everything I want to do! I got to go to Macy's, I got to get my hair done; where's the nail shop!" I can kind of relate. I love living in the city. And New York's all right if you like saxophones. But secluded? I could totally get into that. Sartre said, "Hell is other people." Huge word to that. I only need a few friends to get by. Anything else I can get over the internet. Hell, I can get friends over the internet. Okay, I'm moving to the Bahamas now. Bye! Just kidding.
Bardy leads his ragged crew to a boat and takes them off to wherever it is he's taking them to: three tiny blue tents on a totally deserted beach. Joe says he's excited, but that he knew his roomies wouldn't be into it. The tense guitar chords start up as the roomies start to bicker. Sarah yells, "That guy lied to us! He said we were staying at his house!" Cyn totally freaks. "Where's the bathroom...running water...shower? I've never been on a desert island, this is the desertest island I've ever been on." Hee. Hello, Survivor? I think you owe Bunim-Murray a check right about now. Just sign it and date it. Thanks. ["Actually, I think the European versions of Survivor pre-date this, but I wouldn't swear to it." -- Wing Chun] Finally, the roomies begin to express some interest, enthusiasm, and gratitude. Mike says he was "thrilled," and that it "reminded [him] of Gilligan's Island." Okay, Mike can be Ginger, Sarah can be the Professor, Cyn can be Mary Ann, Dan can be The Howells, and Joe can be Gilligan. Sarah tries to make a hermit crab their tent mascot, and Cyn (what else?) freaks out. "No radio, no TV? What am I going to do?" Don't forget the "no phone, no light, no motorcar" bit. Too bad none of them brought books. Heh.
Stingrays swim silently through the clear blue water. The roomies take turns blowing on a conch shell. They then take turns cracking up. Joe's blow sounds wet, flat, and not musical at all. Dan manages to blow a good one. Heh. Some new-wave drums start pounding in the background, and Blake, the camp cook, swings into action. Oh man, it looks delicious. The roomies chow down and make yummy noises. Isn't this, like, their second meal in a few hours? Where do they put it? Blake then explains, while they are eating, that they are to pee in the ocean and poop in the porto-unit around the dune somewhere. Or, they can poop in the ocean if they like. Cyn says in an interview that she "isn't pooping in a pot," and that she "will hold [her] poop for four days if [she] has to." That is disgusting and unhealthy. Plus, they are eating. Later, Cyn and Sarah go to sleep, and are plagued by bugs. Via voice-over, Cyn says it's good that Flora and Melissa aren't there "to make this experience much worse." Hee!
1 2 3 4
Sunrise. It looks beautiful. Then, the illusion of beauty is totally destroyed when Joe wades out to pee in the ocean. The other roomies watch in horror and amusement. Joe describes his, um, movements to Dan. "I watched it float away! You, like, become one with your ass." Dan deadpans, "I already am." Salt N Pepa's "Push It" starts playing and I just laugh for, like, five minutes. I mean, come on. Was "Doo Doo Brown" not well known enough to play at this moment? Then Dan says, "How low do you have to sink when all you have to talk about are your own bowel movements?" Is it lower than writing about other people's bowel movements? Is it? Please say yes. Cyn says, "That's hella nasty." Mike says that she should look for "it" when she goes snorkeling later. Then he says, "Toilet schmoilet. I think using the ocean to go to the bathroom in is natural." Hey, all the big corporations do it, why can't we? This segment concludes with more "wet trumpeting" sounds from the conch shell. Thank you, closed captioning, goodnight.
Bardy hollers that they want to get on the water in forty minutes. Enya opens her big yapper as we get a montage of the roomies strapping on life jackets and sailing off in little kayaks with sails. When they land in an enclosed bay, we get a montage of diving and snorkeling, except for Cyn, who proclaims herself to be "an easy drowner." She said she "almost drowned ten times." So let's make that old cliché horseshoes, hand grenades, and drowning, and get your face in that water now, Cynthia. Bardy the hippie tries to convince Cyn to do it. Do it! She does. After a few false starts, she finally gets into viewing the underwater landscape.
Sunset and dinner. The roomies are trying to give Cyn more snorkeling tips, but she's reluctant to hear them. "Not going that route again. Too afraid of drowning." She then sprouts feathers and a beak. Joe says he'll "be there" for her, and Sarah asks what kind of wood Cyn would like in her casket. Dan says that he wants a casket made of "bamboo, so [he] looks like rattan furniture," and that he'll put Melissa "to manual labor" building the thing. They all laugh and say that, except for a burning at the stake, neither Flora nor Melissa would have anything to do with Dan's funeral arrangements.
We have campfire. The orange glow on the roomies' faces shows them to be relaxed and happy. Finally! God, it sure took them long enough. Sarah sings a song she learned at summer camp, which inquires as to whether one's ears hang low and whether they can be tied in various knots or bows. Via voice-over, Dan says that they were "just sitting around enjoying each other's company, and it's been a really long time" since that's happened. Sarah says she wishes she had Leroy the doggie with her, and we're treated to a nice montage of Leroy running wild through the house, snatching stuffed animals off cabinets, sniffing Flora's salad, and stealing a family-sized pack of gum and chewing it to bits. Flora screams at the dog, "What are you doing chewing gum! Are you retarded?" No. Are you retarded leaving gum around where a puppy can get at it? She slaps his little face. We end with a shot of Leroy sleeping on Sarah's bed. Aww.
1 2 3 4
Back on the secluded beach, Sarah and Cynthia take bikini photos of each other. Enya sings again as we see various forms of frolicking and snorkeling, drawing hearts in the sand, and washing off flippers. No one mentions poop. Joe writes "Joe plus Nic." Sarah says, "Engagements are made to be broken." Hee. And, you were right. She covers him with sand, and makes sand-boobs. She then lies on top of him and poses for a photograph with her tongue outstretched toward his giant sand-nipples. Sarah rules.
Bardy takes the roomies scuba-ing. He "cannot promise" them that a shark won't appear, but says, "If anything tries to get to you, it has to get through me first." Damn right, hippie. Cyn is nervous at first, but relaxes quickly, until they feed breadcrumbs to the fish and the ensuing feeding frenzy drives her back to the boat. But then, she bounces back, calling it "heaven underwater." Beauty.
Bob Marley's "Exodus" starts playing, and it's time for the roomies to go. Cyn says that she learned to trust people more and "not be such a scaredy-cat." Good for you, man. They all pose for photos, and we're out.
1 2 3 4