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“The Real L Word” mini-cap 106: “Family Ties”

Coming out stories are like snowflakes: no two are alike. Some sever family ties forever; some make the bonds stronger. Sometimes the news is met with utter shock; sometimes, with a yawn. (You weren’t fooling anyone with those baby muscle T-shirts and camouflage pants, sweetpea.)

Tracy and Jill were both apprehensive about telling their parents they liked the ladies. Tracy’s dad took it just fine because he does, too. Her mother, on the other hand, still pretends it never happened. Jill’s parents said, “We want you to be happy, but we’re going to need a second…” and I thought, “opinion.” In reality, they said, “We’re going to need a second to just get used to it.” Sort of like wrapping your head around a $3000 wedding dress. Some things run in the family.

When little Whitney was 13 years old, she yelled, “I’m gay,” at her dad as she was running out the door, setting up what would become a lifetime of dropping bombs and fleeing the scene. Mikey felt a twinge of Catholic guilt, but Rose “really didn’t give a f— what anybody else thought.” I find that so hard to believe.

Today, Rose is having lunch with what appears to be Pipe Fitters Local 102, reminiscing about their secret bromance stripper escapades. Tee hee.

Rose still sees no wrongdoing in the stripper action she saw, but reminds her little bros to stay off MySpace and Friendster with the incriminating evidence. Even so, she tells them that if Natalie lets something like this ruin their relationship, “that’s retarded” and that would be on her anyway. Also Natalie’s fault? Global warming.

One beer philosopher asks what would happen if the stripper was on the other foot? Rose Double Standard Garcia says if Natalie pulled the same stunt, she’d “put her ass out for a long while.” Everyone snorts with laughter as they shove fries in their mouths and adjust their lids. Going through life wearing a trucker cap and following Rose around is no way to live.

Tracy has invited her real sibs, older sister Audrey and younger sister Aimee, to the house for order-in dinner and a movie. While deciding what to eat, Stamie offers to breast feed Tracy. Immediately, Aimee gets wigged out and irritated, and demands the phone so she can order General Tso’s Really Uncomfortable Chicken. She gets up and walks around the room with her purse over her shoulder, as if she could leave at any moment. Tracy is crestfallen. Stamie smiles because she doesn’t know what else to do. Well, what can you do after a breast joke that brings the room to a standstill?

Nikki and Jill make a pact that wedding plans will not include an argument. Jill asks Nikki if she’s OK with her mom walking her down the aisle. Nikki seems sad, but she knows her dad has a hard time with modern concepts like gay weddings, airplanes, and other new fangled things.

Jill: This is our wedding, our union. So whatever feels best for you.

Nikki: Well, when you grow up, and you have an idea of your wedding. And then, you also have an idea of who you think your parents are. When they turn out to not be the people you think they should have been. It’s been very disappointing for me to not have a father in my life, as an adult.

In 2006, Nikki had been married to a man, and appeared on Oprah. The topic was married women who later realized they were gay. Nikki’s father called her to say he happened upon the show, saw a beautiful woman talking about her epiphany, and thought, “What a waste of a woman.” Then, he realized it was his daughter. They haven’t spoken since.

Well, that’s crazy. If Rose’s dad can support his daughter — which he does — you other parents have no excuse.

Whitney has a sister, Alexis.

Sure, let’s trot out everyone’s siblings. In lieu of plot, we can compare who looks more like whom, and wonder who has a different daddy.

Whitney has Alexis’s name tattooed on her arm, as she’s the only woman in Whitney’s life that isn’t going anywhere any time soon. They chat about their dad over dinner. Whitney is mad at her womanizing pops because he had an extramarital affair, and when she was younger, flirted with all the moms instead of paying attention to her soccer games. Dear lord, it’s genetic.

Speaking of genetics, Natalie’s family is doing what it can to swell the ranks of the gay population: three out of five kids are gay. Awesome. In that house, you have to come out as straight. Over mani-pedi’s, Natalie and her equally soft-spoken, equally gay sister, Leslie, plan a dinner with themselves, their mom and Rose, so mom can meet her future douche-in-law.

The only one not prattling on and on about their families is Mikey, the workaholic. God only knows where Raquel has been, but Mikey is in New York with her assistant, Shanna to introduce some LA designers to the local fashion editors, who don’t know from bedazzling and always think black is the new black.

On the first day of the two-day press event, no one shows up to Mikey’s party. The LA designers mill around their booths, picking imaginary lint off their wares, as the publicist calls around to see if anyone is coming. The crickets do not reflect well on Mikey. Granted, she didn’t book the no-show appointments, but it’s her name and her ass on the line. Mikey’s solution is to start passing out champagne.

If that doesn’t distract the bored, disappointed designers, she can always make shadow puppets with her penis.

Tracy arranges brunch with Aimee, to smooth over the other night. Tracy learns their mother has been doing a little Stamie recon with Aimee, and not her. “I’m a little bit bummed she didn’t ask me, but goes and talks to you about it,” Tracy tells Aimee. Tracy’s mom is no dope. When you want the idyllic version, you ask the girlfriend. When you want the truth, you ask the by-stander.

Jill and Nikki go to Malibu to scout an estate as a potential wedding site. Upon entering the manicured grounds, walking through the lavish home, and soaking in the expansive ocean view, Nikki promptly has a tourgasm.

True to her instinct-free roots, Jill wants more time to consider, mull and compare. It’s a little known fact that Jill needed five weeks, three references and a pie chart to say “yes” to Nikki’s marriage proposal.

Nikki reveals she was diagnosed with anxiety when she was in college. Her father also has it, but unlike him, she refused to let it run her life. She muscled through and came out braver, stronger and able to leap tall budgets with a single check with many zeros. Jill’s job is to keep Nikki’s Louboutin-clad feet on the ground. Good luck.

After seven hours of waiting for Godot’s editors, Mikey and the designers pack it in. To unwind, Mikey goes to a “tranny club.” One patron tells the camera he wishes he were a lesbian because they’re nurturing, there’s no cattiness, and “it would be so much easier.” Easier than what? This hat?

Mikey bursts through the curtain partitions, struts in as if she’s chafing in three different places, whips off her leather jacket like it’s on fire, and proceeds to Drink. Her. Face. Off.

Someone loves New York. A little too much.

Back in sleepy LA, Whitney and Alyssa are watching Tor play with her new puppy. Alyssa holds Whitney on her lap and asks if she’s been naughty or nice. Chances are, she’s been naughty, so Santa Alyssa offers Tor a present.

Alyssa: Tor, come punch her in the face.

Tor: I’d be glad to punch her in the face.

Alyssa: Come and punch this face.

Whitney: Do it, Come punch me.

Alyssa: I don’t like all this talk. I was totally joking.

It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Or swallows a dog.

The next morning, Shanna holds down the fort as a stream of editors comes flowing through their LA designer event. Mikey is M.I.A., having passed out on her bed with all her clothes on. But not before attempting to speak French and seeing “a trillion great trannies” dance in her head. This is so not good for the King of LA Fashion Week. It’s going to take more than mimosas and glad-handing to fix this one.

Mikey: The fact that I drank too much, and acted like a total nimrod, is really unprofessional.

Let the nimrod who’s never missed anything because they were out drinking all night cast the first schlong. I only wish Raquel was there.

Nikki has a dear friend who’s now a rabbi in Philadelphia. The girls ask Rabbi Gary to come west and marry them. He couldn’t be more thrilled to stand under a rainbow Chuppah in Malibu, if Jill would just say yes to an estate that costs three times their budget. Nikki implies if they wait too long, the venue will get booked, or worse, the owners will raise the price. To Nikki, a “buyers’ market” means buy the entire market.

Jill doesn’t like feeling pressured and finally tells Nikki, “You are selling ice in the Arctic.” Say what?

We hate it when mommies fight.

Mikey would learn how to better hold her liquor if she went out as much as Whitney does. Her father’s daughter is at yet another bar, this time with Scarlett, Tor and Alyssa. Sensing Tor has taken a step back, and seeing her lack of interest in fighting over girls like Romi and Sara, Whitney only likes Tor more. Too bad Tor has disappeared into the bathroom with Scarlett. There’s a development no one saw coming. No one, except Alyssa, who admits she might have tried to fix up Scarlett with her cousin.

Since you’re giving away stuff, Santa, can I have a pony?

At dinner with Natalie, Leslie and their mom, Rose is on her best behavior. She says contrary to popular belief, she does want Natalie in her life, and brings Natalie’s mom some flowers. Mom compliments Natalie’s hair, prompting Rose to explain to no one in particular, “I didn’t even do my hair. I was running late.” It’s not always about you, but thanks for sharing.

Natalie’s mom seems enormously cool, telling the table that her own mother once tried to talk smack about Leslie.

Natalie’s mom: I broke down one day and I started crying. I said to my mom, “You know what? If you don’t have anything good to say about my kid, don’t talk about my kid.” People that have a problem with it — and that was my mom — I thought, “Well, too bad. This is my kid and I love my kid.”

Natalie’s mom needs to have more gay babies.

In other dramas: Whitney confronts Scarlett about her feelings for Tor. Scarlett insists she doesn’t have any romantical designs on someone who puts puppy heads in her mouth. Tor then tells Whitney as soon as she finds a job, she’s leaving. “Where you gonna go?” says a voice out of nowhere. The camera pans and settles on a complete stranger.

Who left the gate open?

A random friend of Scarlett’s has mistaken their conversation for an episode of Dr. Phil. Or dinner theater. Or a comedy show. She proceeds to give Whitney and Tor her assessment of what they should do. Sometimes it takes a random drunk girl to make you see the absurdity that is your life.

Later, after Drunkie McStranger has wandered next door to see what the neighbors have in their fridge, Tor kisses Whitney, tells her not to be a douche, and threatens her (again) with a punch in the face. Whitney’s almost in love. Who can resist a woman who calls you on your sh-while straddling you?

No one, that’s who.

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