“The Real L Word” minicap: Episode Three “Bromance”

 
 

Natalie tells the camera she wants to give Rose something for Valentine’s Day that she’s never received before. Since couples counseling and etiquette lessons require admitting something’s actually wrong, Natalie has settled on commissioning sexy photos of herself.

Natalie has an unshakeable belief that her girlfriend doesn’t mean to do bad, doesn’t mean to be cruel, and can be a wonderful partner. No one understands Rose like she does. Some call it love. Some call it Stockholm Syndrome.

Meanwhile, Whitney has no idea who her Valentine will be. Her guess? No one. Apparently, when everyone is special, no one is special. She’d rather concentrate on the horror movie she and Alyssa are working on. The male producer, who might also have a wee crush on her, offers Whitney the lead in the movie. Listen. A meritocracy is that thing with working hands. This is LA, baby.

Whitney is less daunted by the prospect of having a hetero sex scene than she is about showing "FUPA." In Whitney’s lexicon, FUPA stands for "fat upper p—y area." Not to be confused with FUBABS (fat upper back above bra strap) or UGALF (upper granny arms like flags) or the dreaded GOLF (girth only liposuction fixes.)

It’s the night before Valentine’s Day and Tracy and Stamie have eight o’clock dinner reservations to celebrate their first Valentine’s Day together. But trying to get three wide-awake kids to go to bed is like wrangling cats. Tracy is no dope and retreats to the kitchen while Stamie endures some ear-splitting screaming. Now, it’s 8:30PM. Tracy asks Stamie if she still wants to go out. "No," Stamie cracks, "I want to be trapped in this house forever." Too bad Tracy isn’t laughing anymore.

On Valentine’s Day morning, Nikki and Jill exchange their gifts and read aloud their thoughtful, really wordy cards to each other. Jill bounces with delight at Nikki’s "creative" dance lessons gift certificate. Nikki cries with happy surprise, "Oh my god! You got us a Flip!” I liked how she said "us" and not "me." Nikki’s world revolves around something larger than herself. Unlike some people whom shall remain Rose.

When it comes to Valentine’s Day with two women, Jill says it can’t help but be fuzzy. Perhaps they should invest in some razors. Being in a committed relationship doesn’t give you license to let personal grooming go out the window. Oh. Wait. That’s not what she meant by “fuzzy.” Well, clearly, Jill hasn’t seen Rose’s card to Natalie, which reads something like this:

Dude,
For every one woman who says "no" there are 10 who will say "yes." You’re lucky you have my love. Happy VD, bitch!
Bottoms up,
Rose

To get in shape for her role as a bad ass chick with a six-pack FUPA, Whitney hires a woman she found on YouTube. Sure. Why not. If Whitney can land the lead role in a film because the Power of the Clam is an equal opportunity phenom, and some guy can get a TV series out of tweeting dumbass things his dad says, why not hire a trainer off YouTube?

Whitney’s roommate and the resident BS detector, Alyssa, takes one look at the trainer, Miranda, and sees trouble: she’s hot, will be spending long hours concentrating on Whitney’s body, and did I mention she’s hot?

After Miranda leaves, the girls all wonder if she’s gay. Does it even matter? She’s pretty, she’s female and she’s breathing – Whitney’s already on her scent. Tor finally realizes that staying in Whitney’s room may not have been the best idea on earth. She says, "She’s lucky she doesn’t have a dick. If she did, she’d have a lot of kids." Again with the dicks?

Attention Straight Showtime Viewers: I know you’re the show’s target audience and all, but I swear on a stack of Bound DVDs, we don’t talk about penises this much.

Wondering where The Schlonginator, Mikey is? She’s doing a thoughtful thing for her Aunt Kat. Aunt Kat took care of young Mikey when her own mother couldn’t be bothered. Now a cancer survivor, Aunt Kat is going for a makeover to feel beautiful again, courtesy of her grateful niece. At the salon, who do they meet but Romi. What a co-inky-dink.

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