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“The Real L Word” mini-cap: Episode Five “Free Pass”

The Lesbian Question of the Week is “What is a 100-Footer?” Jill says she doesn’t know and jokes it sounds like a Subway sandwich. Yes, I’m sure you’ve heard their jingle, “Five hundred dollar foot-long…” Mikey immediately thinks “penis,” because any measurement of length sends her mind straight into her pants. Well, girls, you’re both wrong. A “100-footer” is a lesbian you can spot from a hundred feet away. If only we could tell which ones are crazypants from that distance.

Tracy mentions the ages-old, “Lesbian or German?” and adds “or Hipster?” to an already difficult game. Nikki, Whitney and Rose offer some dated, stereotypical giveaways: flannel, Birkenstocks, crew cuts, fence-building. Apparently, we’re also all farmers. How did this happen? We need a better publicist.

Nikki and Jill aren’t 100-footers, but they are scaredy cats. They wait anxiously to hear if their wedding planner, Camilla, is mad at them for balking at her original, whopping $9,000 fee. How offensive. What cheap asses. Camilla should run them both over with her solid gold Lamborghini. But she doesn’t. Not in this economy. Camilla leaves the girls a voice message saying she can pare down their reception to seven grand just fine. Jill mouths silently, “I told you!” at Nikki, even though it’s just the answering machine.

Don’t worry, Jill. No one will know, even though there’s a camera crew in your kitchen.

In other vendor news, Mikey has to figure out where to hold LA Fashion Week, now that the studio has given the stage they promised her to someone else. They offer her an “outdoor space” also known as a parking lot. Now the build-out now requires a huge tent that was never in the budget. She has to find a new sponsor to foot the bill. Ed Hardy should just give her the money. It’s the least they can do for douching up West Hollywood.

While Nikki thanks her gardener for charging $200 to water two hedges and a potted basil, and Mikey writes an even bigger check for an empty piece of blacktop, Whitney is taking her show on the road. She’s driving to San Francisco with her friend, Scarlett, for a little out-of-town fun, and to see Sara. Seven hours with nothing to do except talk about chemistry, wonder what girls want, and check the rear view mirror to see if Romi is following them.

Whitney has problems other than the LA drama she’s leaving behind: she’s about to get her period. She tells Scarlett, “I wish there was a pill I could take to put it off for a day.” There is a pill. It’s called The Pill, lesbian.

But I get it. It can be a pain in the ass. Who hasn’t timed at least one vacation around their period? Or had sexy time cut in half by opposite schedules? Whitney brags she doesn’t care. She’s earned her “red wings.” The only thing that makes Whitney back out of a bedroom is the word “relationship.” And blond hair. And soft butches. And hard butches. And glasses. And anyone not wearing a slouchy hat and a feather as an earring.

Meanwhile, Rose is on her way to a lesbian wedding reception with her pops. Natalie has to work that job she hates, and will meet them there later. Rose texts her the address, telling her dad that Natalie is a little lentas. Oh honey. Just because you say it in Spanish, doesn’t mean people won’t know you just called your own girlfriend “slow.” Being insulting in two languages is Rose’s idea of multiculturalism.

On their way to the party, Rose’s dad asks her to make amends with her mom. They haven’t spoken in over six months. Rose asks her father to intervene, which is something he could have done months ago, but if mother is anything like daughter, you can see his dilemma. One person Rose’s mother does talk to regularly is her restraining order-ex, Angel.

Good sense runs in that family.

After checking into their hotel, Scarlett helps Whitney cover up her “sagging vagina” eyes with tons of makeup. Tonight is “Flourish,” the monthly girl party. Scarlett isn’t going because her ex runs the party and she doesn’t want drama. See how that works? Whitney pops her collar, rolls up her sleeves and heads out into the fray. But don’t call her “butch,” not to her face, anyway. She gets offended. Step back, oh, I don’t know, 100 feet?

Stamie has sent Tracy’s homo-resistant mother a Facebook friend request. Fun. Mom doesn’t acknowledge their relationship, but Stamie hopes to be a virtual daughter-in-law. I’m sure Tracy’s mother would love nothing more than to be poked by the woman who’s poking her daughter. Next, Stamie friend requests Tracy’s new step-mom, a “very, very, very young girl.” She’s so young, in fact, she’s younger than Tracy. I didn’t know Tracy’s dad was Keith Richards.

At the wedding reception, Rose looks bored out of her shot-deprived mind. With her dad in tow, she can’t slam vodka or pull girls’ tops up, or do anything Rosetastic. I have to admit, I miss the douchery.

Just as my urge to switch over to Animal Planet is about to win, Rose gets a call from Natalie, who’s having a little meltdown. She’s lost, she’s pissed and she’s actually yelling at Rose. There is a god. Rose doesn’t give a crap if Natalie is having a day from hell. After giving her conflicting driving directions, Rose says, “On your drive over here, f—ing correct yourself, real quick, ’cause your attitude sucks,” with all the compassion of a prison guard.

Just for fun, she adds, “You’re retarded and being super stupid.” It sounds nicer in Spanish, I’m pretty sure. After Natalie finally finds her way to the reception, Heckle and Jeckle have a shouting match in the bathroom of the banquet hall. They emerge and sit in seething silence as people dance around them. Who’s ready to catch that bouquet?

Up in San Francisco, it’s after 10:30PM and “Flourish” is underway. Whitney is checking out the scene, and checking out Sara, who’s go-go dancing in a lace onesie with no bra. That’s normal. A friend joins Sara up in her perch and starts dancing with her. And by “dancing,” of course, I mean this.

Whenever lesbians start dancing, it eventually involves humping each other’s asses. It’s the dance craze that’s sweeping the nation. Why? Lesbians are too busy processing to learn how to pop and lock.

While Rose gives Natalie the silent treatment, even after they get home, Whitney’s night is just starting to heat up. Watching Sara’s many local admirers tuck singles into her cleavage and chat her up all night only makes Whitney want her more. Romi could explain that feeling to Whitney, but she’s back in LA, comparing notes with Tor.

Sara and Whitney go back to the hotel for some play time, and not a moment too soon. Whitney’s period is going to start in ten minutes, and Sara needs to be reminded of all that chemistry they supposedly have. Even though the room is full of friends waiting to go out to eat, Whitney and Sara jump in the shower together.

Well, that’s really clean now.

Mikey needs to raise $20,000 for a tent big enough for all the fashion egos in LA. Has she tried Sunglass Hut? While Mikey works the phones, Tracy is home with her own fashion emergency — she needs something to wear for a lesbian magazine shoot. Stamie reminds her to bring underwear and a strap-on. She’s helpful like that.

Next, Tracy calls her mother to say she has the flu. What? Eh, who needs continuity when you have eyes like pools of melting chocolate. Tracy tries to broach the subject that dare not speak its name by blaming Stamie’s kids for her flu. Tracy’s mom dodges the name dropping and tells Tracy to drink water and take a nap. Guess she won’t be playing “Mafia Wars” with Stamie any time soon.

Nikki doesn’t have any problems with her mother. Moms Gucci, Nikki, and Jill all schlep to a store that carries the designer of those $12,000 dresses they love so much. Jill goes into the dressing room with Nikki — one of the benefits of being lesbians — and watches her put on her dream dress. She’s not supposed to see Nikki in her wedding dress yet. I’m pretty sure that rule is universal, but what do I know? For the longest time, I thought DOMA was a new LA restaurant.

At $3,200, each, they’re a steal compared to the “exhor-horrrr-bitant” quotes that Jill could not stomach. Nikki is sold on her dress, but Jill isn’t feeling it anymore. “I want it to feel right. Inside, I just really want to feel it,” she says. Jill puts more thought into a dress she’ll wear once than Natalie puts into her life.

Back in San Francisco, Whitney, Sara, Scarlett and a few others are having dinner, talking about their babydyke days. One friend remembers making gifts for girls, but didn’t know why at first. Whitney says she used to tell girls they were just practicing for boys. Already with the misdirection, Whitney?

Sara says she used to play Truth or Dare with her friends, and they “dared” each other perform oral on one another. At some point, someone named Pamela sprouted three pubic hairs and no one would play with her anymore. Children can be so cruel..

Later, Sara says she can hook-up without getting all lesbian about it.

Sara: I’m saying I can have unemotional, unattached sex with someone. Irregardless if it’s unattached, I’m still super intense and passionate. So, it’s still intense and passionate. But it’s just in the moment. The next day, it’s like, you know, it was an intense moment of the time, but now I’m done and I’m over it. OK, good-bye.

It’s an intense moment of the time for Whitney, whose face fills with recognition and a new insecurity. Hearing her own spiel coming back to her is so unsettling, she doesn’t even notice Sara’s dubious command of the English language. Whitney knows she’s done similar things to girls in the past, but she hopes “it wasn’t done to me.” Somewhere, Alyssa is laughing her ass off.

Meanwhile, Rose is grinning like a hyena as she plans a little payback. Since Natalie “embarrassed” her in front of her dad, Rose has decided she has a free pass to hire strippers. It will be a secret “bromance” night of hijinks and hepatitis with her minions; a motley handful of younger “protégés” who help Rose act like a kid and feel at large, and in charge.

Natalie comes home and drops groveling to all-new lows after Rose tells her, “You need to be careful” about her emotions.

Natalie: The way I spoke to you wasn’t right. I get that. Even though I was frustrated and annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way… the way I spoke to you wasn’t right, and the fact that your dad heard was embarrassing [for you.]

Rose is unmoved. She’s got stripper on the brain and dollar bills dancing in her big head. On another note: I wonder what it’s like where Natalie lives.

Sometime during her last night in San Francisco, Whitney realizes Sara’s the “Queen of Mixed Messages.” Whitney really can’t hear herself, can she? The King and Queen of Playerville decide to see what happens after Sara moves to LA. And possibly, become Tor’s roommate. Amazeballs.

In other news, Tracy meets with everyone’s favorite red carpet photographer, Beck Starr, for the lesbian magazine shoot. Posing with celesbians Nat Garcia, Jill Bennett and Cathy DeBuono, Tracy wonders if her mother will see the photo. Not unless she subscribes to something called Bound magazine.

Someone needs to fire Tracy’s hair stylist. “Cause that is one spectacular up-don’t.

Mikey brings some good news to the proceedings: she’s just landed Bon Jovi band mate Richie Sambora’s clothing line as their newest sponsor. The tent to paid for, her money worries are over.

Mikey’s penis just grew an inch. Ew. I mean, yay.

Elsewhere, Natalie needs an ear to talk about her career fears, but Rose is busy-busy. She has to get cash for the strippers and show her little groupies how to live the good life. She tells Natalie to figure it out and hangs up on her.

When the strippers show up the party kicks into high gear. Rose says she’s keeping it “NC-17” so she doesn’t get in trouble, as if that’s ever a reality.

For every girl who says “no,” there are two strippers who will say “yes.”

Rose, the class act, tells her friends to keep the bromance event a secret. No tweeting, no Facebook, no MySpace. MySpace? Who the frig is still on MySpace? Well, whatever. Your secret is safe with us viewers, genius.

Rose comes home to find Natalie on the couch. She wants to put her stripper-smeared face next to Natalie’s, but the puppy is between them. Rose picks up the dog and throws it out of the way.

Out of frame, the dog yelps. Hilarious. I know how she feels.

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