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“Episodes” recap (406): Little Pubey

Last week on Episodes: Carol found out that Helen once slept with Merc. Helen found out he thinks she has anti-Semitic twat (don’t ask) and added him to her secret shit list. And Carol got a glimpse of how intense Helen can be.

It’s another gorgeous day in LA and Carol is out hiking in Griffith Park with Beverly. They haven’t seen each other in forever because Carol has fallen down the Lesbian Rabbit Hole of Togetherness. “I can’t remember the last time I slept in my own bed!” she tells Beverly with giddy glee. Too bad Beverly doesn’t do giddy.

Carol proudly shows off her new ankle monitor bracelet. Helen has a matching one. They’ve been together for one week. One. Week. Here’s the schedule, if case you lost yours:

LESBIAN TIME TABLE

  • One week: Matching jewelry
  • Two weeks: Phone passcode share
  • Three weeks: House key swap
  • Four weeks: Tattoo of her name

  • Five weeks: U-Haul rental
  • Six weeks: Engagement rings
  • Seven weeks: Restraining orders
  • Seven weeks, two days: Covering her name with a very dark unicorn

Carol loves the attention and downplays Helen’s oddly inappropriate generosity. She’s just happy to be with someone who doesn’t make her perform oral while wearing someone else’s wedding dress. Straight people are weird.

Twenty yards from the parking lot, Carol’s phone rings. Guess who? Beverly’s hike is ruined as Carol wanders away, looking for the best cell reception so she can talk to the woman she left 15 minutes ago. Bossexual people are weird, too.

Later, Bev and Sean find themselves at the hospital with Matt, following his dad’s heart attack. Matt enlists them to forge Friends autographs to hand out to the nurses. Bev shows Sean two versions of her Jennifer Aniston: the, “I’m a big star. I don’t have time to sign” scrawl, and the, “Even though I’m Jennifer Aniston, I take the time to carefully write my name so you can read every letter.”

Bev is always incredulous how she gets roped into anything, but once there, she does give it her all. I kinda love her.

Carol calls Beverly with a major relationship emergency. She needs a cute pet name for Helen, and she needs it yesterday. “It’s like we’re on some kind of accelerated lesbian calendar. Like, three days is a week. If I was a dog, I’d be dead by now.”

Carol reveals that Helen calls her “Scrunchie” because she wears one when she washes her face. It’s unimaginative, and ever so vaguely condescending, but Carol has probably never had a pet name, so this is a really big deal to her. She wants a great pet name for Helen.

Carol: Everything I try out in my head sounds stupid! Just give me something. Anything!

Bev: That’s not how it works. It’s got to evolve in the moment. It’s got to be organic, and playful, and something that connects you two.

Carol: Ugh. You’re no use to me. Maybe there’s a website or something.

Later that night, Scrunchie and TBD are in bed. Helen starts aggressively sucking her teeth. She finally dislodges something and shows it to Carol, finger puppet-style. Yup, it is what you think it is. Carol’s face widens with inspiration. She announces, “I’m going to call you little pubey!” Oh, honey, no.

Moments later, Carol is hiding in little pubey’s bathroom, telling Beverly what just happened. Beverly, the professional writer, gives Carol some notes.

Listen. Carol could have named her finger-puppet, or red rum or Clits McGee. With nicknames, it can always be worse. I know an actual girl named “Shitty.” Really.

Next week: Helen forms a band called Pubey Lewis and the News. Or not.

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