What is happening with Sonja Morgan? Remember when she was the zany, lovable, yet refreshingly sensible one from her first season? Remember when she was THE VOICE OF REASON on Scary Island? Clearly Kelly Bensimon sent Sonja a care package of some gummy bears and Al Sharpton posters because Sonja has left the building – quick someone grab a snatch guard!
The ladies of Real Housewives Of New York are supposed to be headed to Atlantic City by way of Le Crumbles Magnificique Abode, where the interns reign supreme and the heat is emitted only from the bank of toaster ovens plugged into the wall in what was formerly the maid’s quarters, but has electricity that runs from the neighbor’s mansion. Sonja wanted the girls to meet at her home to board a party-limo to AC for Ramona Singer‘s Suddenly Single Birthday Bash, but she’s late and leaves them all outside – in very in-climate weather.
Heather Thomson, Kristen Taekman, and Dorinda Medley arrived – on time – but Sonja was lost in the abyss of her thrice re-Sharpied Chanels and her twice-re-superglued Oscars figuring out what to pack and wouldn’t let the girls in – even to wait in the vestibule! Seriously – she had an intern open the door, then promptly shut it in their faces, because Lady Morgan wasn’t ready to accept guests. An intern can’t entertain them with magic tricks while Sonja packs!? I hear Sno-Cone can juggle and make tea simultaneously!
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Oh no, Lady Poorgan couldn’t be disturbed by outside energy; she was looking out her upstairs window, in her wedding gown, the cobwebs making up the parts of veil the dogs had soiled, longingly watching the construction across the street, remembering those days when she was Mrs. John Q. Morgan, lovingly building their town home and her St. Tropez getaway together. In a parallel universe Heather was beating on the door, freezing her ass off on the sidewalk, while the construction noise corroded her hearing. And nobody puts Holla in the corner of a construction awning on the Upper East Side! Then Ramona arrived, chipper and skipper, because she had been at Starbucks chatting with the barista about the correct way to imbue green tea with pinot.
Did I mention the limo was late? The limo was late… and so was Bethenny Frankel. Just when Heather is about to use her suitcase as a battering ram and storm the door of Sonja’s once-solid abode demanding to use a toilet that wasn’t clogged with a Blackberry, the limo arrives. The Popsicle princesses of the UES scramble inside, and then in flounces Bethenny being her most obsequious as she barks “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” repeatedly at the ladies while uncorking a Skinnygirl and shoving it down their throats. No one is in the mood for this… Sonja finally flops down with her zillion excuses, none of them sound, about dogs that escape and sisters with dead friends and children with no child care and suitcases with no zippers and interns with no skills and Sonja was just doing the Shah of Iran’s hair in the amphitheater and lost track of time! Silly Sonja!
Heather explodes. I mean rightfully so. And Kristen, who is wearing not one but TWO statement necklaces (or was it a sweatshirt with some seriously Bedazzler-abused warrior breastplate combined with some prayer beads?) joins her. But Sonja just keeps issuing excuses instead of just issuing an apology.
By then Ramona is also passing out Ramona Pinot as her and Bethenny race to fill-up every empty glass they spot (often Sonja’s, often their own). To say the limo was maniacal was an understatement. To say that instead of passing out booze, they should have passed out copies of Class With The Countess was an understatement.
To say that Bethenny lecturing Sonja on talking too much is ironic, is an understatement. But she did. Because Sonja was repeating over and over that she promotes people and does PR like for Gstaad in the Swiss Alps as he had undos and updos and UnderRoos. I really don’t know a Gstaad from an updo or an Alp from an AllClad (although I’ve experienced them both) or what Bethenny or Sonja were even talking about, but I just wished they would have xanax’d the whole limo and called the whole thing off. You say Gstaad, I say Gaaawd, let’s turn the whole bus around!
BTW: Who is Smokey and why does he want a shot?!
Ramona starts screaming that people should shut the f–k up and drink and I have to say for once I agreed with Middle-Aged Mutant Ninja Turtle Time! And so does Smokey. Then Bethenny made the limo pull over so she could pee on the side of the road…well, she IS homeless. <SARCASM EYE ROLL SARCASM>
At the Borgata, although the ladies were late, the Skinnygirl product placement buffet managed to arrive on time. $5 says as soon as Bethenny left the room Ramona threw the whole mess away and then called Kelly to offer her a Skinnygirl tote bag. Seriously Bethenny, nobody wants your Skinnygirl shit – you can’t even give it away. Apparently you can’t give your advice away either, maybe because it’s wrapped in a Skinnygirl self-help book written by a woman who cannot help herself out of a wet Skinnygirl paper bag. I hate typing Skinnygirl. Why, Andy, Why?!
My rambling is approaching Sonja-level, so I’ll get back on topic. Poor Heather can’t get a break from Sonja no matter what because the plumbing in her bathtub malfunctioned as if she was staying in Casa de Crumbles of the no hot water special (even though she’s only allowed inside as “the help” whilst carrying the drunken proprietress up the stairs. Use the BACK STAIRS please). Even worse Heather is late for dinner resulting in a continuation of her lateness battle with Bethenny, who now has ammunition to throw in Heather’s face about how now she’s the late one! “You wanna go again,” Heather snaps at Bethenny, who gets distracted by Carole arriving in a negligee and some PinterestMadeMeDoIt lace bunny ears.
Everyone makes it to dinner where Sonja orders shots and the name-dropper special and puts it on repeat, because she promotes people. She promotes people and is in PR. Did Sonja not hear Bethenny’s limo-lecture about the has-been rambling and the bragging and the ridiculous stories? But Bethenny is also stuck on repeat and admonishes everyone to get the chopsticks out of their asses. Le sigh – Bethenny never shuts up, Sonja never shuts up. And chopstick out of your ass is so 2000 and whatever. So Zaaarin. Regurgitated RHONY comin’ right up!
Of course then things get serious when Sonja thinks she and Bethenny are in cahoots complaining about the other women making digs constantly, when Bethenny turns on Sonja. Bethenny doles out some brutal and succinct advice about how Sonja is basically a hot mess of delusional. “You’re making a dig at me,” a shocked Sonja warbles. It seems Bethenny took the whole idea of “helping” Sonja to heart… her cold, black heat of stone that is. And Sonja starts to cry. And Ramona starts to twitch. And Sonja just wants to promote people, because you know she’s a promoter of people. And Bethenny just wants to lovingly stroke her Skinnygirl bottle in peace and then get a spinoff where they get married and run off into the en-riching sunset And then it’s time for Blackjack.
Bethenny is really excited to sit in silence and lose her money (unless your name is Jason Hoppy) when Kristen sits beside her, starts winning, and gushing about Elvis. Meanwhile Sonja and Ramona are shrieking and screaming and then it’s time to Turtle Up on the dance floor. When the blaring drone of bad club music is a welcome relief from the usual sounds on RHONY…
Unfortunately Luann lands in the unfortunate position of defending her face from Sonja’s attempted make-out molestations and then defending the bar’s honor from Sonja’s flashing snatch. “How did I get a job as a snatch guard?” she queries. Sonja tracks-down Bethenny to remind her, again, that she’s really into promoting – her own delusions? Bethenny storms off and Dorinda, who is far too reasonable for this group (#THANKYOUJESUS) gets stuck with the unfortunate newbie initiation hazing of care-taking a drunk Sonja.
Dorinda escorts Sonja up the elevator, down the hallway, while Carole and Ramona flee, and then gets her into their room where Sonja stumbles around slurring about her illustrious past promoting drunken shenanigans. “I used to party with John-John,” she shriek-slurs at Dorinda, while swinging a bottle of booze. Dorinda commandeers the bottle and snaps, “John-John’s dead!” But unfortunately Sonja’s delusion is still alive and well.
The next morning Sonja skips down to breakfast as if she’s been at a yoga retreat detoxing on organic juices and realigning her chakras in the dawn sunlight. The women are speechless. Except Heather who has lots to say about Sonja’s insanity (and all subjects, mama). But Sonja is already out the door to speak with Bethenny and offer an apology.
Bethenny is in no mood for smalltalk or sweeping things under the carpet she paid for but can’t walk on, so she gives it to Sonja straight: her life is a mess, she’s living in the past, she can’t let go or move on – she refuses to – and she needs help. Hell, Bethenny is an expert on people who need help and aren’t taking it seriously! She would know.
Instead Sonja explains she’s taking vitamins and the CentrumSilver and the PatronSilver don’t mix well, but she’s switching to a non-GMO version in the hopes of improving things. Oh and she’s planning to start dating again, as soon as she gets done with this whole bankruptcy mess.
Bethenny tries again to explain to Sonja that her issues – the millions she’s bleeding in legal fees, the looming debt, the loss of a marriage which was like a death – are stressful and she’s drinking too much to cope. Bethenny even admits that she’s going through something no one even knows about, so she understands. They both tear up and for a second, a brief second, there is a flicker of recognition in Sonja’s eyes, a moment when she almost cracks, like the Faberge egg that fell off her curio while she was shoving the tattered ends of the antique Persian rug she can’t afford to maintain underneath it to hide the frays, but then she dabs her tears with her immaculately manicured hand – a skill she’s drilled her interns in – and brightly smiles, and says, “I’m fine!” before giving Bethenny a hug and swanning out the door. And delusion and denial are permitted to reign another day. Did you know Sonja is promoting them? She promotes!
Meanwhile at the table, Heather wonders if Sonja is faking it but Luann insists that last night Sonja’s drunken tears were real.
TELL US – DOES SONJA NEED SERIOUS HELP? WAS BETHENNY BEING A GOOD FRIEND OR TOO MEAN?
[Photo Credits: Bravo]