The Smell of Sweat and Desperation

 

Chew challenged primary guest Chelsea is having another reality TV moment by having a meltdown over not being served her dinner smoothie in a timely fashion, so her husband steps in and sternly lays down the law, announcing that the rest of them will not eat anything else until Lady Chelsea has been served her liquefied version. Predictably, this gives Raunchy Rachel the opportunity to curse up a storm in several confessionals. “Blending raw shellfish … have you ever vomited in your mouth?” she asks.  It reminded me of that annual Hell’s Kitchen episode where the contestants are forced to down vomit-inducing (whole) fish smoothies as punishment for fucking up Ramsey’s signature Beef Wellies or Risotto. Even after she is served, Chelsea attacks her friends, accusing them of being just as grumpy and demanding when THEY are starving. So the rest of the dinner is tense as Hairlip Heather says she’d rather "scrub a bidet with her tongue" than be there, and as a viewer I’m feeling the same way.

 

To digress for a moment, I actually know a little sumpin’ about this jaw wiring procedure that Chelsea has undergone, known in the medical community as maxillomandibular fixation. My first partner (although a studly 165 pounds when I knew him) had previously undergone this procedure as a method to lose weight. It’s hard to imagine such a drastic procedure being performed on the morbidly obese today, but we are talking the 1980’s when he had it done. I think bariatric bypass has replaced such a barbaric method for weight loss. Then more recently, I worked with a young man who had his jaws wired shut after having his jaws shattered in a fight. He was miserable, but I remember he managed to get pasta and other soft foods past his teeth where he could just swallow it whole.  BTW, he was an overweight guy, so the procedure brought him an unexpected, but welcome 50 pound weight loss. Anyway, on with the story.

 

 

Following an awkward silent dinner, the guests then head out onto a beach where the crew has set up a silent disco party, whatever the hell that is. All we really know is that headsets were involved, so I can only assume that they were grooving and dancing by themselves, in the sand and under the stars.  It brought me all the way back 1979, to "Strand" in Key West FL, where we boogied to Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive, as amyl nitrate permeated the hot night air. But regardless, a fun time is had by all, including the crew.

 

Later that night in the galley, Heather asks Raina how she’s doing, but only gets a thumbs up as a response. “I get the thumb?” Heather asks. Walking away, Raina mutters “You get the thumb after saying n*****”. Heather supposedly doesn’t have a clue on what’s going on. The next morning, Rainya vents to Wes, who as a fellow shit upon black-ish member of society, assures Rainonya that he fully supports her. Rainy then adds Eddie into the mix, complaining about how he (as a white man) was unable to comprehend her pain.  Wes tells her that should have spoke up sooner, but Rainonya says that she didn’t want to come off as “the aggressive Black woman.”. If I were her, I would be more worried about looking like a fully indoctrinated snowflake who relishes in martyrdom, but that's just me.

 

Meanwhile, Heather tells Fraser that she doesn’t know why Raiona is being so cold to her, and eventually drags out of him that Rayony is still mad about her using that word that rhymes with jigger. Heather is so upset that she can’t even arrange a tablecloth, so she retreats to her bunk, a sobbing mess. At dinner service, Heather is still so tormented with self-loathing and shame that she is unable to focus, and breaks a glass pitcher which cuts her ankle. Then to make matters worse, she takes too long to bandage herself up, which fucks up Rachel’s perfectly timed multi-course dinner. But thankfully, the guests, along with Captain Lee who’s been summoned to join them, don’t seem to notice. At bedtime, Heather tells roomie Rachel that Rayina just doesn’t like her, but if I were Heather I wouldn’t sweat it, because it’s a pretty safe bet that Rayiona doesn’t like white girls in general.

 

The next morning, Heather oversleeps, and it’s Frazer’s turn to sleep in, which leaves the guests no other choice but to flag down whoever they can for their morning coffee. A hapless Wes is elected, and to everyone’s surprise he proficiently provides the guests with their lattes, cappuccinos, and espressos. In my mind, there ought to be a lesson learned here. I know it’s considered a Cardinal sin to have guests on a yacht serve themselves, but even five star hotels provide their guests with self-serve coffee in the morning, so if it’s good enough for the Ritz Carlton, it should be good enough for a bunch of hungover nouveau riche wannabes.

 

But between a delicious breakfast of French toast and Eggs Benedict (hold the Hollandaise please) and a successful complicated docking (which Lee lets the guests observe from the bridge), the morning goes off without a hitch. Chelsea and Co. depart the boat happy, leaving the crew a $22K tip which when divied up, amounts to $2000 a piece. Being a person short has its advantage$!

 

Lee gives the crew a well deserved day off and organizes for them a fabulous day on a catamaran and a private beach. Fraser is as giddy as a school girl with the possibility of getting getting another kiss or ten from Jake (so much for worrying about “ruining their friendship”). Rachel plans on just relaxing and napping, and all Heather wants to do is make things good between she and the resident angry black deckhand, so she takes the opportunity before they leave to squash their beef. Heather offers another apology, and Rayina seems to accept it, claiming that she wants to “develop a better connection” with Heather. But unfortunately for us, this isn’t going to be the end of this canned story line.

 

 

On the beach, the shots are flowing and fun is being had by all; that is unti; buzzkill Raynisha takes Frazier into the bathroom to him that she is NOT over her beef with Heather at all, and then tells us in a confessional that she’s done with Heather. Frasier fans the flames by telling Raina that he can’t blame her (for those who aren’t aware, gay boys and black girls have an unspoken special bond). Frasier and Jake then hop on a paddle board with a bottle of rosé, and drift out onto the water for a little alone time, or at least so Frasier thinks. Just as Frasier tells us “Who wouldn’t want to date their best buddy?”, Rayonya pulls up on a paddle board beside them, and then practically falls into the water while transferring herself onto their paddle board. It is very obvious that she ain’t there to watch Jake performing mock fellatio on the Rose’ bottle strategically placed between Frasier’s skinny legs … this ho is there to steal Jake from Frasier.

 

From the shore, their crew mates are watching fascinated, but that’s nothing compared to what we the viewers witness later that night back on the boat, when Fraser is invited to cuddle with Rayna (and a naked) Jake in his bunk. They share a three way kiss, and then Rayina starts giving Jake a hand job. That’s it sister! A completely confused (and obviously repulsed) Frasier then hops out of the bunk and heads out to the deck for a smoke, a drink, and talk to himself. The episode concludes as narrator Rachel says, “This throuple thing makes me wanna throwupple. I’m confused, but maybe it’s just because I’m going through a dry spell.”. Suffice to say, Rachel and Frasier aren’t the only ones confused (and grossed out).