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“Rizzoli & Isles” Subtext Recap (6.11): Gaycation, all I ever wanted

Previously on Rizzoli & Isles: Smug Kent smooches Maura to figure out if she is gay. Then he asks about the Boston Police Department’s inter-office dating policy to see if she can really date Jane. Meanwhile, Jane wears a dress.

This week on Rizzoli & Isles: When selfies kill! Yeah, think of that next time someone says, “Lemme take a selfie.” Or, alternately, look out for shady people wearing hoodies. Trust me, just ask the gals on Pretty Little Liars.

Jane emerges from her metaphorical and literal closet at Frankie’s place. She looks disgruntled, probably because she is waking up and looking at Frankie’s face instead of Maura’s each morning. Hey, it would make me grumpy, too.

While she complains about Frankie’s motor oil-like coffee, Jane gets a wrong number call confusing her with an escort service. She brushes it off and asks where Maura is. Aw, those two just can’t be apart. Luckily, Maura is there already. But she is on the floor trying to make her back feel better.

Jane looks at Maura on her back and briefly gets really excited, but then remembers they’re at Frankie’s place. See, this is why this whole living apart thing is so, so stupid. Her fantasies dashed already, Jane gets another irritating wrong number call for the escort service. And then another, and then one more.

Except that last one is actually the office. Maura alerts her girlfriend that she is actually berating a co-worker. Hope the caller didn’t take that “basement-dwelling, mouth-breather” comment too personally. Maura answers her call instead, setting up reverse “Isles” and “Rizzoli” synchronized greetings. Oh, maybe that means this will be a bizarro world episode where Jane and Maura are actually already out.

On the way to the scene Jane keeps complaining about all the wrong numbers. One guy asked her to wax his bannister. Jane and Maura share a laugh and then both agree this is why it’s great to be a lesbian. What, it’s a bizarro episode, remember? Korsak catches the end of their conversation and inquires. Maura tells him they’re just discussing “Euphemisms for the male phallus.” He asks no more questions.

After some super appropriate jokes about selfie sticks over the victim’s body, they find out the victim isn’t who he said he was. Instead, there’s someone else named Dan Walsh who is dead in Los Angeles. You know what that means, right? Break out the mix tapes, it’s time for a Big Gay Road Trip.

Isn’t that cute, even the Boston Police Department clearly wants these two crazy kids to get together. Why else would they foot the bill to send Jane and Maura there together? Jane, of course, complains about having to go to the land of sun and sand and stars. But Maura thinks it will be fun, or another word to accurately describe going on an all-expenses-paid romantic cross-country trip with your girlfriend.

Now real California instead of California-pretending-to-be-Boston, Jane and Maura’s first order of business is to rent a car. Jane is struggling with some video-conference car rental kiosk. I’d say it’s ridiculous product placement, but I can’t actually find a real company called “Agence Car Rental.” So instead it’s just, uh, weird.

Speaking of weird, Jane’s credit card is declined when she tries to upgrade their car. Maura bonds with the video-conference car clerk about delicious strawberry-mango juice drinks, as Maura would. She also steps in to pay for the upgrade to something stylish, tasteful and fast. Yep, that’s pretty much every lesbian’s ideal women.

So they strut out to a powder-blue Aston Martin convertible—turbo. Jane would be thrilled, but she can’t drive since Maura rented the car. OK, she is still pretty thrilled. Hot sun, hot car, hot girl. Yeah, California doesn’t look so bad now, does it Jane?

They arrive at the LAPD Robbery Homicide Department and are greeted by the detective on the case. I’m not sure why the detective would tell Jane she is “not in Kansas anymore” since it’s not like Boston is some tiny rural hamlet with dirt roads and abundant haystacks. Wait, oh, OK-I get it. That’s a Wizard of Oz reference. So, clearly, he has already figured out Jane is a friend of Dorothy.

Maura, meanwhile, has found her nerdy, non-speculating doppelganger (though, not in style or overall adorability) in the LA medical examiner. Jane has a brief glimpse of what her life might have been like were she actually straight—shivers, and thanks the universe for making her a gaymo.

On the so-called case they used as an excuse to take a gaycation together, Jane and Maura discover that both victims were strangled in a similar way by a left-handed assailant. But the LA dead guy was a homeless man and the Boston dead guy was someone who faked his own death and assumed his name. They also discover breakfast burritos. Frankie, who was dying to be the third wheel on this trip, is jealous beyond words. You should be, Francesco/Francis Jr.—breakfast burritos are delicious.Jane and Maura decide to take in some of the SoCal sights. First up, the Santa Monica Pier. Jane hates on all the flip-flops and drum circles. Speaking of sartorial choices, is it just me or did Jane and Maura buy their slacks—and have them pressed—at the same place? And their matchy-matchy white top-dark blazer look? Lesbian Twin Syndrome, activate!

Back in Boston, Mama Rizzoli and Korsak are planning a double date away from “the girls.” You know, as long as the show focuses on everyone but Jane and Maura’s so-called dating lives, I am A-OK with it. Bring on the wacky familial romantic subplots. Though, admit it, Mama R and Kiki have better chemistry than any of these other couplings.

Ron arrives and he is soap star handsome. But, really, was he on a soap? (Answer: He was, on Falcon Crest—as well as a bunch of other shows and movies.) Ron the Silver Fox meets Kiki the Fox Fox and it’s…awkward. Like they already know each other and it’s all kinds of weird awkward. But then they pretend not to know each other. I mean, do you really know people you’ve only bumped into once or twice at the S&M sex dungeon? What? I’m assuming.

Jane and Maura are treating themselves to a night out on the town. Or they would, but Jane’s last credit card is declined. Well, that’s an inauspicious way to start off a date night. I mean, did Jane straighten her hair for nothing? Luckily, Moneybags Maura is there to the rescue.

Jane then gives Maura her dream club experience—she tells her to put on sunglasses, not talk to anyone and read science journals on her phone. It’s almost the same for me, except I’d be reading lesbian TV recaps.

Also, how cute was Maura’s little “Ow!” after poking her eye while putting on the sunglasses? As cute as her wearing the sunglasses is hot, that’s how cute.

Jane leaves her hottie girlfriend to her journal and goes to find the club owner. He’s wearing a fishing hook as a necklace pendant, so you know he is a real catch. (Thank you, thank you, I’m here every Thursday.) She tricks him into facilitating a fake drug deal and then pulls out her badge. Though, you could see how the dude was too distracted to realize she was a cop at first. Hello, Det. Jane Rizzoli’s Exposed Midriff.

The club owner leads them to the drug dealer to the stars who leads Jane to hate L.A. even more than she did before. But he and his Bentley are just another Red Herring. Afterward Jane gets a call from Nina with more bad news. Jane’s whole life has been hacked. And all her accounts have been cancelled. Hey, I watch Mr. Robot, I know this shit can get crazy.Jane, who is entirely too calm about her life being summarily erased by an anonymous hacker, scopes out Venice Beach as her next potential date spot with Maura. Oh, honey, if you thought the drum circles were bad in Santa Monica you ain’t heard nothing yet. But, the hippie selling crafted flowers does his best to sell her on the place.

The hippie points them in the direction of a bar that cashes homeless people’s Social Security checks. The bartender points them in another direction, but his really terrible patterned shirt makes me pretty sure he is the culprit. Nina then confirms my suspicions by sending a picture.

He has fled the bar, duh, so then Jane and the L.A. detective search for him outside. A chase ensues and then Jane linebacker tackles him into a table. It’s pretty hot. Like, I’d maybe run from Jane a little for the promise of some full-contact badassery.

Jane looks up from the collar only to find a wall of cellphones and cameras pointed at her. Jane being Jane, she doesn’t like the attention one bit. But it’s not actually a “problem,” Det. Rizzoli, because it’s perfectly legal to record police officers in a public place as long as it isn’t interfering with their work. Know your rights, people.

So the case is all but wrapped up, so Jane and Maura provide the finishing bow by connecting all the victims to the bartender’s fake identity racket. The L.A. detective is impressed and calls our twosome “a regular Cagney & Lacey.” Jane and Maura give him knowing thanks. I mean, is there a higher compliment to give a totally gay duo of lady crime fighters? No, no there isn’t.

Of course the overly literal L.A. medical examiner ruins it by saying it’s factually inaccurate since Cagney and Lacey were both cops and Rizzoli and Isles are a cop and a medical examiner. But, you know, the totally gay part still holds true, and that’s all that matters.

Before we can get to our Big Gayzzoli ending, Korsak and Mama R need to clear up their Kiki and Ron situation. While I was betting on it being an S&M sex dungeon, it was actually something far more disturbing—explosive diarrhea. They went out on a date and Ron’s sphincter crapped out on him. Toilet rim shot! OK, I’ll stop being shitty about this, I promise.

Before Jane and Maura leave L.A. they take one last romantic barefoot stroll on the beach together. This being Hollywood, naturally they run into a celebrity. It’s Ross’s pet capuchin monkey. Ugh, but the fame has clearly gone to his head because he refuses to give them an autograph or fling his poo. Such a diva.

Finally back in her beloved Boston, Jane showers the team with gifts. Hey, it’s only fair. The BPD bankrolled with gaycation after all. But the honeymoon doesn’t last long because Nina comes in with more news about her hack. They traced it back to an IP address that led them to a video—a video of her apartment before the fire and someone flicking a lighter.

So the hacker just really wanted Jane to move in with Maura, right? Shippers can be crazy, yo.

And now on to your #Gayzzoli tweets of the week. If only we could all take all-expenses paid romantic cross-country vacations with our girlfriends, too.

Find more from Dorothy Snarker visit dorothysurrenders.com or @dorothysnarker.

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