This recap is so late because when “Southern Charm Savannah” ended Monday, I was like “I think I need to call my therapist and probably some other people’s therapists before tackling this one.”
That might have been the most uncomfortable and voyeuristic episode of a Bravo show I have ever seen.
It was worse than on “Real Housewives of New Jersey” (season 70, I don’t even know) when Joe Giudice (while on a cast vacation) was filmed talking on the phone to CLEARLY another woman and referring to his wife as the C-word and then sexually moaning because the woman on the other end of the call probably said something like “I’m wearing nothing but mozzarella, pepperoni and Tums right now.”
That wasn’t an Italian slur.
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That was a slur about a fat dump of a man who likely falls asleep while eating pizza, whether off a plate or off a woman, sorry, I meant “off another inmate.” I almost forgot where he lives now.
Monday’s “Southern Charm Savannah” episode was worse than that moment and also worse than all the moments Aviva Drescher’s elderly horndog father was on “Real Housewives of New York” and also worse than some awkward moments on the last two seasons of “Vanderpump Rules” such as when Jax walked into the airport after being Ubered there from Sunglass Hut Jail and had to face his girlfriend with his giant case of high blood pressure face and such as when Bravo was like “I think it would be a FANTASTIC idea to bring Scheana’s sweet, shy, drug-addicted and very estranged husband on this reunion episode so he can uncomfortably insist he isn’t back on drugs. I’m sure viewers won’t cover their faces and be like, ‘No. No. Oh, come on. No.’”
Because guess what, Bravo, we sure did cover our faces and say “No. No. Oh, come on. No.”
Or at least I did, but that’s because, unlike Benjamin Eichholz, I have empathy and I know what it’s like to love-leave someone who is struggling with life.
So, this episode … ugh.
First, I feel like I need to say this, I think Hannah and Daniel are kind of awesome. I don’t know them. I just know their characters on the show and I like what I see.
And I’m sure, like most children, they love their fathers very much for very many reasons, but they deserved better than the short representations we got to see of their paternal units on Monday night.
The time has come, though, for me to write this recap despite feeling like I’m recounting the night I spent outside the windows of their family homes.
So … here we go.
I hope Hannah and Daniel kept the receipts to this year’s Father’s Day gifts and are currently on the phone with the Omaha Steak rep asking how to mail back meat.
I don’t even know what kind of card would have been appropriate for these two maniac dads this past Father’s Day.
“Dear Dad: Thank you for that time you drunkenly told America that you never loved my mother and for the time you said it again because once wasn’t enough!” with a picture of a chubby bear passed out among stacks of money, a much younger female bear and many empty mini-bottles of Fireball on the front?
Or “Pops: Every day I thank the heavens that I get to walk in your footprints … of criminal greed” with a jaunty cartoon of a long-earred dog behind bars on the left and a cartoon of his side-eyeing puppies saving his law firm on the right?
Call me, Hallmark. I can help you set up a line of Let’s Just Get Through This Day, OK Dad? cards for next year.
Brookstone should also give me a buzz because I’ve spent the past few days inventing the “Southern Charm Savannah” Muzzle-Tie-Massager. The “Southern Charm Savannah” Muzzle-Tie-Massager keeps dad quiet and professional while subtly stimulating him into a state of constant but discreet sexual satiation so he doesn’t feel the need to leave your mom for your best friend’s younger sister (to be clear, I’m 99.99 percent certain this is not actually what Hannah’s dad did).
Also during these past few days I’ve been weighing how to respond to Benjamin Eichholz’s offensive comment about prospective lady love for Daniel whose main notable flaw is that she’s statuesque.
Maybe Daniel is kind of short, I don’t know but still ... “She’s nice, but 5’10””?
Oh, Benjamin, you choosy choosy future felon-in-law.
In full disclosure, I’m 5’10”, but I am not nice today, so here goes. Here are my assessments on whether YOU should date Benjamin Eichholz:
— “He’s nice, but in addition to being a money-thief, he also stole his look from the star of ‘Dracula Yam: The Musical.’”
— “He’s nice, but he’s an embezzler who took from retirees, which is kind of like saying ‘He might be satan.’”
— “He’s nice, but bring some handkerchiefs on your date because you might need to wipe the trails of sweaty hair dye off his forehead after you walk from the car to the restaurant (he can’t afford valet right now).”
— “His son is nice, but his son is nothing like him.”
And Hannah’s dad … great taste in houses, terrible skills in keeping it classy for his daughter.
I know it was the Georgia-Florida game but maybe drink a few waters when you know you’re being filmed for a show that might bring great success to your loved one, OK Phil?
I have no idea if his name is Phil, but let’s just call him that because no one told his face that he isn’t named Phil. I’m just going by what I can see. I can’t even be bothered to Google this to see if I guessed right.
Here’s my breakdown of this horrible episode:
— Have you ever seen someone’s night as ruined as Louis’ was when Phil-Face wouldn’t shut up about not loving Hannah’s mother? Louis might not be able to throw a Southern lady party, but he gets Boyfriend of the Year for his post-Phil-Face interview about the exchange. The sincerity in his words about how this would break Hannah’s heart broke my heart. But dude, I hope you warned Hannah that this happened before she saw this episode. If not, you’re dumber than your inability to unfold tables lets on.
— The shot of Louis’ socks not stocks on the floor made my night. We all got a chance to be like “Huh. So that’s what it would be like to sleep with Louis … that’s what I would see in the morning … this is exactly what I imagined it would be like.”
— I think I misunderstood Ashley’s freak-out from last week juuuuuust a bit. I thought she was saying “No one else in this world can be a fashion designer.” But she was probably saying what she basically said Monday night, which is “I’m good at this so why didn’t Hannah ask me to help her? Why do these girls hate me?” I think I get it now. I still maintain that Hannah handled that superbly, though.
— Ashley’s most current rant on her fashion design skills, though, answered a question I’ve had. “This is what pays for this car.” Ah. I get it now. Mercedes and “Delta suitcase slinger” weren’t adding up for me.
— Also, I found out this week that her husband works for The Eichholz Law Firm (The Justice Lawyer ... sorry, I’ve seen the commercials thousands of times. I can’t say one without the other). I like Dennis’ trustworthy face so I was somewhat surprised to find out he is a lawyer. Why was I stalking him? Oh. I had to find out his last name, in case that’s the one Ashley gave to the cop after breaking that window the night before the game party. That’s right, I have the police report.
— Ashley’s pants game is not wearing them and Ashley’s bathing suit game is roadside sex store underwear. When I saw her arrive at the football party in that outfit I was like “That’s about right.” And when I saw Hannah’s dad’s pool I was like “She’ll be in that later …”
— Catherine wins for wanting to not smush aluminum foil. Hannah loses for being a rich girl who says “TPT.” Although, I suppose that’s only fair because I’ve totally heard Trailer Park Trash chide each other over appearing too Gated Community Garbage. An example of GCG is worrying about appearing TPT because you’ve left food covered at a party but then not worrying about appearing TPT while getting WGW and chugging cinnamon whiskey with your dad.
— Ashley’s puking was performance art. I loved it. Been there, sister. I also loved Hannah and Catherine’s response. They were well-trained on this one. They just cleaned up that vomit, recited the snug-bug bedtime poem and brushed Ashley’s hair. Now. If you’ll turn to chapter 8 in your “How to Be a Debutante” textbooks, we will read about how to do this in other locations, such as on your grandma’s lap at a bridge table, in a country club umbrella stand, in your boyfriend’s aunt’s faded Laura Ashley duvet cover, on your sorority sister’s boyfriend’s bare lap (uh oh) …
— Quote of the night: “She’s also an aggressive knocker along with a bull-shitter.” Lyle on Ashley’s Band-Aid hand
— Diplomatic moment of the night: “You’re acting in ways that I don’t really understand and to me seem irrational …” Happy adeptly avoiding eggshells while talking to Ashley about her Band-Aid hand.
— Saddest moment of the night: “You and Mom were such a team. (Phil-Face nods).” Hannah to her dad, not knowing that the night before her dad referred to himself as “the most depressed mother(effer) you could ever be” on the day he married her mom, his teammate
— Family fidelity moment of the night: “Don’t do it. Don’t settle.” Phil-Face about HIS OWN GORGEOUS AND SMART DAUGHTER TO HER BOYFRIEND WHO CAN’T EVEN PUT A TABLECLOTH ON A TABLE … uh, who is settling for whom, Phil-Face? I mean, honestly. I feel like buying a plane ticket to fly MY dad — who is grumpy and literally Irish, not “Savannah parade Irish,” and has no patience for “baptist Southern lawyers” (which is how he thinks that line in “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia” goes and what he thinks 99 percent of the men down here are faith-wise and do career-wise and I’m not going to correct him for the aforementioned reasons, Phil-Face, even though this doesn’t likely describe you judging by the alcohol intake and the wife-cheating) — down here to punch you in your FOOTBALL TEAM LOST TO FLORIDA face for saying that about someone HIS daughter has to write about for a living.
That is how strongly I feel about Monday’s episode. I wouldn’t even use frequent flier miles for the ticket.
Oh, but Catherine and Lyle were super-cute, right? God that scene made me want some Vinnie Van Go-Go’s.