Mrs Filthy's Real World Review


October 9, 2001


Even though house relations have mellowed somewhat, the boys and girls still have their differences. In the words of Nicole, "The guys kiss butt." Although New York City certainly contains lots of urban-sophisticate butt to kiss, the men of the house are a bit more selective; their lips are solidly planted on the Docker-clad derrieres of Adam and Devon, their bosses at Arista. "Is there a maximum to the hours we can work?" Mike queries.

And in return for their industriousness, the guys get all sorts of doo-dads and gew-gaws: tickets to Knicks games, posters and CDs, a personal relationship with Adam and Devon- all for just being "nice to people," in the words of Malik. The atmosphere at the Arista offices seems like Halloween trick-or-treat; you go into a room, and people hand you a bunch of stuff. Now, dearies, it's probably the stuff that they've been trying to get rid of for the last six months, but the Real Worlder males think it's tres magnifique.

At one point, the guys even get to arrange Adidas sneakers for the members of Run DMC to sign and are rewarded with a close brush with celebrity and free footwear in the bargain. And, where could the girls be? As it turns out, Nicole has led the other girls into Mike's lair to show them his arrangement of Arista goodies. Rachel calls it Mike's "shrine to Arista," with each CD and poster arranged with attention to symmetry and color. Now, I can imagine creating a shrine to all sorts of things: little figurines of children, Mario Lanza, the person who invented bon bons, but one's workplace? That's so very sad, darlings!

But the Real World females are not moved to pity. Au contraire! In two shakes of a lamb's tail, they break out those formidable weapons, a Magic Marker and poster paper, and make a sign reading, "Arista Kiss-Ass and Crowd." As slogans go, it's pretty weak, but they seem pretty pleased with it, and they hang it above Mike's bed. Lori makes the supreme sacrifice to put it there, "I don't even want to touch this semen-soaked bed, but I guess I have to."

Now let's get this straight before we go further. The idea for the poster seemed to come from Rachel, and she told Lori that she would be proud to take credit for it. Lori made the poster, taking great care with the font and color, and she hung it up. Really, both of them could be considered responsible. So, when Mike brings his latest panty-dropper home from a hot date at the wax museum ("It was awesome! So cool!"), the poster is waiting for him. His date doesn't seem to really get it, but then again, the poster has no pictures.

Next, we see Mike and Rachel sitting across from each other at the breakfast bar. Rachel is loudly munching cereal and Mike is glaring at her. They begin to chat about the room temperature and concerts, but Mike turns the conversation around on a dime. "Who made the poster?" he blurts. Rachel backs down immediately and places the burden of blame solely upon Lori's meager spaghetti straps.

When Kevin and Malik come into Lori and Coral's room, they tell Lori that Mike is pissed at her. Lori is astonished, "Nobody's mad at me!" But then the truth comes out about Rachel's cowardice. But, I guess that Rachel just seems so harmless that no one ever stays mad at her. My dears, it's simply disappointing to not witness a row when a row is warranted. We never see Lori claw Rachel's eyes out, and Mike just kind of drops the issue after concluding that Rachel is "easily influenced." Finally, Rachel takes down the poster and curls up on the couch.

And she's not the only girl spending a lot of time on the couch. The women in the house have no social life whatsoever. They're so desperate that they're divvying up Adam and Devon, the Turtleneck Twins. They spend hours deciding which of them is the cuter: Shrimpy or Baldy? They throw themselves elaborate cocktail parties with little paper umbrellas and grass skirts, but not a male in sight. Something's got to give. Nicole proposes that they all try to go on at least one date with a new guy before the end of the month.

We, mes amis, never see the progress of Coral, Nicole and Rachel, but suffice it to say that no one is successful in their mission. Lori casts her feline eye over a moussed and manicured doorman at a fancy-pants jewelry store. Coral is walking with her and cheers Lori on as she introduces herself to Jeremy. Their brief interaction seems promising enough so that Lori returns soon after, this time with Rachel in tow. Since the other girls seem to lend their approval to the proceedings, Lori decides to pursue Jeremy.

Does she ask Jeremy if he has a sweetheart already? She refuses out of pure dumb fear of his answer. Jeremy offers to show Lori around the jewelry store the next day, but then backs out when she arrives in a slinky red dress. Apparently, the life of a doorman is fraught with peril and frequent emergencies. Finally, though, he does let her in the store and try on all sorts of baubles. Does he realize that she's not going to buy any of this? He even trots out Madonna's wedding jewelry, but he will not, alas, go on a date with Lori. It turns out he's "practically a married man."

Lori reports her sad result to her gal pals, where it received with plenty of hoots and hollers. My duckies, it looks like the girls will be spending a lot more time on the sofa.

Who's Shirtless: Unless you count Mike in bed, the Big Apple is nipple-less tonight.

Who Cries: No crying, per se, but there is a fair amount of melancholic lounging on the couch.

Most Annoying: That little Kewpie doll Rachel turns out to be as spineless as a slug, refusing to take her share of the blame for the "Arista Kiss-Ass" poster.

Best Quote: This one's a two-parter, gang. Lori evaluates her new crush, "He's a little weird around the mouth," and Rachel replies, "But the rest of him makes up for it!"

Next Week: Nicole finds her calling as a drill sargeant.


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This Week, Mrs. Filthy's Reading:

Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe