At the Hummelpezberry loft, Blaine tries to make things a little more Blummelpezberry by mapping out a workspace. Sam interrupts him to say he’s booked some modeling jobs with Bubble (butt-enhancing underoos) and will be moving out of Bushwick and into a house with 12 models like some kind of youth hostel where you can’t wear clothes. As soon as Sam bounces out, Kurt bounces in — and is horrified with what Blaine is doing to their loft. Standard first time living together blues. Whose place is it, really? Whose stuff is it, really? Who could host their own Bravo decorating show, really? Kurt invokes Elliot’s name and whoooo boy, Blaine does not like that one bit.
Have we ever gotten to see Blaine go on a jealous tirade before? I don’t think so. It’s amazing in its awkwardness. First, he busts into Elliot’s apartment without waiting for an invitation. Then, he spends five minutes explaining the etiquette of friending your friends’ fiances on Facebook and what kind of selfies are and are not appropriate for engaged dudes on Instagram. He yells about vampires and shampoo commercial hair and tattoos until he’s in Elliott’s face going, “I LOVE KURT! I LOVE KURT!” Elliot’s eyebrows are incredulous, but in a nice way. He hands Blaine a guitar to soothe him the way a body pillow would do and says Kurt is awesome, but he’s not into him, and more importantly, Kurt’s only got eyes in his heart for Blaine, whom he won’t ever shut up about, by the way. It’s all, “Blaine was awarded a Presidential Medal of Freedom this and Blaine is a Pulitzer finalist that” all day, every day.
Rachel decides that if she stops experiencing real New York at the age of 19 she won’t have any actual experiences to draw on for her future EGOT-ing, so she meets Artie at the Union Station subway stop, where he’s been sitting for like three days trying to work up the courage to ride the train again, and tells him she’ll use her ferocity to protect him from would-be muggers if he’ll never coddle her. He agrees. They sing “Don’t Sleep in the Subway” with a train full of those “IT’S SHOWTIME” performers that make everyone even grumpier on the way home from work. But miracle of miracles, they spot the guy who mugged Artie and with the help of Rachel’s pepper spray, Artie hoses him down and calls the cops and gets his laptop back.
Back at the loft, Kurt and Blaine decide to be 100 percent committed to each other in different apartments for a little while. Sam shows up and says he’s decided to move out of Model House because it’s all drugs and filming porn and no one understanding his impressions over there. And then, straight from heaven, Mercedes Jones descends and announces that she is going to east coast it for a while. Her label is even putting her up sweet brownstone with an extra bedroom, which she will, of course, be happy to rent out to Sam and Blaine. She tells Sam there’s not going to be any funny business in a way that indicates there will be plenty of funny business.
Rachel sings “People” while her buddies prepare for their soon-to-be weekly tradition of Monday night potluck. Kurt and Blaine hold hands and buy flowers. Artie explores the city with a smile on his face. Sam and Mercedes unpack. They meet up at the Hummelpezberry loft that night, happy and full of hope.
Last week I said that “New Directions” would have made a fine series finale, but I was wrong. “New Directions” would have made a fine season three finale and “New York, New York” would have made a fine season four premiere. Welcome to the Big Apple, you gays (and gay-adjacents). Concrete jungle. All-night waffle delivery.
Next week: Remember when Kurt got dumped in the dumpster at McKinley in the pilot? Yeah, that, but in the real world.