And over in New York City:
Kurt ponders the social hierarchy at NYADA while doing some ballet. Should he join the Tennessee Williams play-reading group? Should he join NYADA’s show choir, Adam’s Apples? Rachel says no to that last thing. Right before she runs across a busy Manhattan street, pausing so many times I thought for sure she was about to get Regina George-ed by a taxi, she gives Kurt some advice about fitting in at college: “The first thing you do is get into an insecure-off with one of your teachers, so you can take turns showing each other up and acting generally pathetic week after week. And then the next thing you do is find the first boy who shows any interest in you at all and build your whole life and personality around him.”
Kurt tries to take her advice to heart and stay away from NYADA’s glee club, but the leader of the Adam’s Apples is actually a guy named Adam and his irresistible attributes can be summed up as: British. He flirts with Kurt when he finds him pondering an Adam’s Apples flyer, flirts with Kurt some more when he sees him examining the flyer a second time, and finally invites Kurt to a performance as an introduction to the club. It’s that Jonathan Coulton-ripped cover of “Baby Got Back,” and it’s fine or whatever, but I really wish Glee would at least start acknowledging when they borrow other people’s arrangements. It’s not like this show is some low-budget late-night local-cable deal that no other artists are ever going to hear about. Everything about it is on the internet everywhere at all times forever.
What I really like is that when Blaine/The Warblers wanted Kurt, they pulled out all the stops and wooed him with “Teenage Dream.” And now that Adam/The Adam’s Apples want Kurt, they’re pulling out all the stops and wooing him with “Baby Got Back.” Which is exactly how it should be. Kurt Hummel doesn’t need to audition for your group, OK? You audition for him.
Kurt decides to be brave and ask Adam out on a date. He’s adorably shy about the whole thing, but Adam seizes the opportunity in a second. “You want me to go out with you? I mean, you’ve seen you, right? The answer is absofuckinglutely.”
Rachel does it with Brody. She does it with Brody in the day and she does it with Brody in the night. Brody, Brody, Brody, blah, blah, blah. I’m so glad Glee decided to tell the story of Rachel Berry following her dreams all the way to the greatest city in the world. It’s just so much fun watching her do things in Manhattan that she never could have done in Lima. Like wrapping her whole life around a boy and dicking over her friends to spend time with him and pursuing his acceptance like oxygen. Oh, but wait. What’s this? Rachel has prepared a romantic feast for Brody and he has arrived 45 minutes late.
I really can’t deal with Rachel right now, so here is Becky being awesome like always.
“Where do you get off?” she demands, as she thrashes around the kitchen, throwing away his dinner and throwing dishes in the sink. “This is a women’s empowerment episode and you’re treating me like a goddamn Betty Draper!” Brody rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Hush, now. I’m going to get a place close by so I can validate your existence with more regularity.” Rachel rushes into his arms and tells him not to be a fool; he can just move into her bedroom and validate her existence 24 hours a day.
Next week, Kurt goes on a date with Adam and splits Glee‘s gay fandom into three warring factions. Klainers have history on their side. Kadamers have Queen Elizabeth. Slainers have superhero costumes. The battleground: Tumblr. The weapon of choice: Feelings. Also, Santana returns and murders Sam with her bare hands, after which she turns and looks straight into the camera, raises her bloody fists, and says, “Here’s to you, lesbian blogger community.” Plus, Sue tries to destroy New Directions but learns a Very Important Lesson instead, while Sugar Motta continues to make the most GIF-able faces of all time.
Big thanks to my screencapping partner Lindsay (@ScenicPenguin) whose new strategy for dealing with Glee is to pretend each show exists in a different parallel universe than the show before it.