You’ve heard the rumors, you’ve seen the promos. You’ve wondered if this day would ever arrive. Well, the wait is over. It’s with a special mix of delight and dread that I bring you: The Strap-On Episode. I’m so glad I went to college.
As you can imagine, the topic of sex toys sits differently with each of the girls. Gentle Jill is so embarrassed, she’s almost speechless. She’d probably also prefer that her adventureous darling, Nikki, stop bragging about their Little Drawer of Fun. Tracy says her first visit to a sex shop was a sensory overload: "I didn’t know where to look; I didn’t know what to do." That’s how I felt the last time I went to the circus.
Predictably, Whitney can explain anal beads to anyone who wants that sort of information. Rose says that "Strapping it on, f—ing the girl, doing all the work; that’s the way I’ve been throughout my lesbian career." And what a career. For Rose, it’s not just a job. It’s an adventure.
Flying in the face of whatever you may have heard or read, Mikey doesn’t recommend putting toys in the dishwasher. Why? I don’t know, except maybe she’s forgetful and has a thorough housekeeper. Mikey does bring up one important issue: With each new girl, you have to buy a new toy. It may be expensive, but it’s the only respectful thing to do. Lesbians don’t even like when you wear your ex’s shirt.
Today, Jill and Nikki are chillaxing at home with their pups, waiting for Nikki’s friend, Dan the Designer, to arrive. The couple has decided to take a break from planning their wedding, and by "take a break," they mean re-doing their entire dining room for one Passover dinner. Naturally. For Hanukkah, they’re going to have a second floor put on the house.
Dan takes one look at their décor and basically declares the dining area a gay Superfund site. He poo-poos their use of space. "You’ve got this little island, this narrow space of furniture," Dan says, standing behind their table, "And then we’ve got this no-man’s land."
It’s a lesbian house – it’s supposed to be a no-man’s land.
Dan sniffs that the walls look like mud, their window treatments look like schmatta, the rug’s gotta go, and the curtain rod is like a "f—ing hospital suite." But what do you really think, Dan?
Jill likes the things she has, mainly because they’re the nicest things she’s ever had. Unencumbered by middle-class values, Nikki and Dan agree what the house needs is a pricey chandelier. Dan thinks it will pull the room together and Nikki probably wants to swing from it.
Rose goes to visit her ailing grandmother. Her aunt and uncle also stop by, because Grandma’s house is where the action is. They tell Rose that her not speaking to her mother is tearing the family apart. Rose reports that her mother may not call her, but she has been calling Angel, her ex. You know when you suspect your mother likes your girlfriend more than she likes you? This, here, would be worse.
Stamie has a psychic. Hey, this is LA, she’s a lesbian. Of course she has a psychic. Robin the Psychic comes to Tracy’s house, takes off her tin foil hat, and proceeds to give Tracy a reading. What happens next can only be described as a scene from The Exorcist, as re-enacted by a female cantor, while having a seizure.
Whoosh, whoosh. Woop. Phew, phew, wee. Ha! Ha! HA! Shama lama ding dong.
Stamie watches happily, as Tracy tries to keep a straight face. Robin abruptly stops grunting and whooshing, and says in a normal voice, "Your energy is very distracted by your parents." Wow, spooky. It’s almost as if someone told her about Tracy’s family sitch, right, Stamie?