Wax — Shane and Paige are making out. It makes me think of Cherie Jaffe, and that makes me think of the time Cherie showed up for a haircut, and Carmen got jealous. Carmen! Sigh.
The make-out session (which is backed by great music, “Action” by Bomber) is very brief: Jared interrupts. Paige and Shane look guilty, which of course makes Jared even more curious. He asks them what they were doing.
Paige: Uh, nothing.
Shane: [motioning around to nothing in particular] Setting up.
Paige: Yeah, we weren’t doing anything.
Aw, was that really the best you could do? You could have at least said you were reading stories or waxing something.
Jared goes off to buy some stickers for his board. Paige is tired of all the interruptions:
Paige: I love being with you in cars and at your work. But I would really like to f— you in a bed. And I would like to go to sleep with you. And then I’d like to wake up with you.
Those are indeed some of the greatest pleasures in life, but I’m not sure Shane’s the right one to want them with. Shane says they’ll talk to Jared, but she says it in an emotionless, “yes, dear” sort of way, complete with a peck on the cheek.
At some point during this scene, we see the name Erin Daniels in the credits. To quote Bette in the last episode, this is “so f—ing unacceptable.” Must you reopen the wound and dump in a whole shaker of salt?
Alice’s garage — Alice, in her blue Mini, is pulling out of her garage. Tasha pulls up on her bike and tells her to get out of the car. Wow, it’s Mini vs. motorcycle. I’m not sure who to bet on, and I’m suddenly hearing circus music in my head.
Alice does get out of the car, but she just turns and walks away rather than going toward Tasha. Tasha chases her and tries to apologize:
Tasha: I’m sorry. I know how I handled it was f—ed up.
Tasha: I should have told you sooner.
Tasha just wants Alice to come to her going away party. She sort of mumbles when she says that, so at first I think she says, “gonorrhea party.” Fun!
Alice: [looking at the invitation] Who the f— is Eva Torres?
Tasha: It’s Papi.
Oh. Eva Torres. Of course: the reason Carmen didn’t go to her prom.
Alice walks around in every possible direction in an effort to get away from Tasha. Where are you going, Alice? Into your apartment? No, wait, over there. No, over there. She’s like the proverbial beheaded chicken — which isn’t even proverbial. I’ve been chased by one of those things, and they can really run.
She finally stops and faces Tasha. Understandably, Alice is having trouble accepting that Tasha is really going back to Iraq. As Tasha talks about the next steps in the process, Alice reverts to her snarky ways.
Tasha: I have a bag drag tomorrow.
Tasha: That’s where the unit gathers at the base, and we sort through all of our equipment to make sure we have everything we need for deployment. And then I have to get my mobility folder in order.
Alice: [walking away again] Oh, yeah, you can’t have a disorderly mobility folder.
Maybe Alice is just pretending to be clueless, Tasha. I mean, look at her necklace: Not only is it possibly some sort of torture device, but it will also come in handy if she needs to cut some cookie dough into festive, stylized pentagon shapes. Like for a cookie party at the Pentagon or something.
But Alice is too busy defending herself to defend her country. She offers to give Tasha the name of her doctor, who will be willing to say that Tasha has “crabs or scurvy or whatever.”
Tasha: I’m not trying to get out of it. I leave on Monday for two weeks of pre-deployment training. It’s Fort Irwin in the Mojave, f—ing armpit of the universe, way worse than Iraq. And if I survive that, then we ship out.
Alice: [walking off] Ugh.
Tasha: Alice, wait.
Alice: Can you just go?
Tasha: Alice, can’t you maybe just try to understand that this isn’t some whim for me? I made a commitment.
Alice: I get it, Tasha. I understand, OK? Just go. Just go honor your f—ing commitment.
Ouch. Tasha just leaves the invitation on the doorstep and goes.
Movin’ on up — Hey, there’s Eva Torres. She’s helping Helena move Catherine’s stuff into a swank beach house. You know it’s posh because there’s a porcelain dog statue thingie. It’s not as groovy-looking as the one Joey had on Friends, but it’s still pretty fetch. Papi says she’s happy to help but doesn’t understand why Catherine can’t afford to hire movers.
Helena: Yeah, I suppose she could. But I’m here, and I’m able-bodied, and it’s not as if I work for a living.
Papi doesn’t like the sound of that, but Helena says her arrangement with Catherine suits her just fine. Then why were you whining about it just now?
Papi: Look, she left you a message. [reading a note] “Helena, dear, separate my underwear: bikinis, thongs, briefs … and fold them before you put it away.”
Helena tries to salvage her dignity by saying she’s got all the luxuries she’s used to, and the sex isn’t bad.
Papi: As long as you know what you’re getting yourself into.
Even if you do, Helena, this just isn’t the life for you, even if you do look good in those jeans. And the sex “isn’t bad”? It didn’t exactly look good. And in general, you’re just protesting too much. But I’m glad Guru Papi is there to help. When the hell did she get so wise, anyway? Maybe the revelation of her real name has concomitantly transformed her into a real character rather than a caricature. Nah.