The former wife of the great-grandson of robber baron J.P. Morgan sits on a bus with two dogs, three suitcases, a dozen carnations and remarks, “The things you read in this newspaper.” Oh, Sonja, that’s exactly what I thought watching you in this episode. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a housewife taking the Jitney to the Hamptons. And while some might say it doesn’t matter how you got here as long as you show up, we all know it matters exactly how you got here and alllll the baggage you’re taking with you.
And somehow, it seems like the Countess Luann has almost zero baggage. She’s living her best Barefoot Contessa life running around Sag Harbor making gift baskets and buying blenders for her insufferably demanding guest (proving beggars can be choosers). She doesn’t have any regrets simply because she’s willed it to be so, and she even admits to Bethenny, “You were so f*cking right” about Tom. Wow, prison has really changed Lu.
As for Bethenny, this is all she needs to hear. It’s music to her ears. In fact, on Bethenny’s birthday her friends/employees don’t sing “Happy Birthday,” they sing “You’re Right, You Know Everything.” It’s her favorite song. It solves all the problems of her past, which she carries with her like a loaded Horcrux locket dangling around her neck. The one problem it doesn’t solve? The Carole/Tinsley issue. As Bethenny sees it, Carole has a new bestie. But things seem more complicated than that. While they may all be here, brunching at the same table, we need to know exactly how we got here, and it looks like Carole and Bethenny’s friendship may be sitting next to Sonja’s food-color-dyed dog on the Jitney.
Tinsley, on the other hand, has no baggage. Not because she’s in therapy or working on herself, but because she simply has no luggage. She’s wearing everything she owns on her person. Her baggage is her. To pretend that she didn’t move back to New York City for the sole reason of finding a rich sugar daddy is akin to thinking you’re back together with your boyfriend simply because he texted you after giving you the silent treatment for three months. Oh, and that’s what she thinks. Tinsley needs shelter, and she wants in on the Coupon Cabin.
Alas, Lu hosts a brunch for Ramona, Sonja, Dorinda and a rando (and put out little name cards, which I just found perfectly hilarious). We learn that Sonja creeps through people’s closets and puts on their clothes (which is its own horror movie) and that if we were in Thailand, Sonja would be considered “dressed.” Yes, Sonja is off the rails. Carole’s right: She’s nasty nice. And she’s making defamatory comments about Ramona’s “graveyard” of relationships and delusional statements about her own life, talking as if the past 15 years were an unfortunate event that happened yesterday. Dorinda. Won’t. Take. It. Sorry, Sonja, you can’t compare the death of a beloved husband to your divorce because, and I quote, “You were f*cking around in the South of France.”
This is new information. (And let’s consider it fact, because according to my math, it adds up, considering how often Sonja drops “the South of France.”) We never knew the scion left Sonja because of her actions. We always thought he left her for a younger mare.
Wisdom and experience have a funny way of reminding us that it’s not the destination, it’s the journey…that is, unless you’re riding stylelessly into the Hamptons. In that case, you might have a more Machiavellian perspective of the world: The ends justify the means. Sonja may have taken the Jitney to the castle, but she’s here, and she will burn that castle down.