Real Housewives of New York
Punta Mita: Real Housewives of NY Recap
This week on Real Housewives of New York the women arrived in Punta Mita, Mexico for a tequila themed vacation.
Once their flight had landed the women walked to their transportation vehicle with the stride of a patient walking into a colostomy appointment. Bethenny had spent that morning barfing into a trashcan, because her daughter had contracted the flu in the days leading up to their Mexican jaunt. She had to cancel the previous year’s celebration because of bleeding fibroids, so she was not about to let this trip fall through the cracks too. In equally fine form was Ramona who had unwisely decided to get a chemical peel so that she would look fresh and dewy for vacation photos, but instead looked like a wild animal ripped off several layers of skin.
On the ride to the vacation home Sonja received a penis pic texted to her out of mistake. “Wrong person, but right kind of lady,” she texted the stranger back. Tinsley was exhausted. Her blind date with Carole’s friend turned into a five-day trip to Miami, suspiciously close to the place police officers had arrested her the year before. She mostly had a wonderful time. “I am totally over it,” she cried once to her new boyfriend from the sliver underneath the bathroom door of the hotel room he booked. He made a mental note to ask her to star in a commercial for his company Coupon Stacks in the months to come.
Once they arrived at La Vida Dulce Villa, a 20,000 square foot home in a gated, master-planned community in the quaint resort community of Punta de Mita, Ramona and Sonja surveyed the property for the bedroom with the best view and amenities. It was something Ramona was accustomed to doing. Once you arrive at a vacation locale, regardless of who is paying the bill, throw your handbags on a love seat and piss in the shower. You must mark your territory so that the other guests understand the available house staff should attend to your needs. They can’t serve you margaritas or restock the toilet paper because they have to line Ramona’s thongs in a drawer. They can’t empty the trash bins or make sure the property has adequate security protection, because Ramona needs pinot grigio or earl grey tea with warm milk.
“I tip generously,” Ramona explained to the man who normally cleans the villa’s pool, “so if you could make sure someone turns me in the middle of the night and cleans my bed pan.” (She would then tip them with old casino chips and insight into how they could tone the back of their legs). He pretended he could not speak English. Sonja and Ramona were stuck in a kid’s suite because they had the misfortune of choosing the last numbers in the house lottery. “You should be upset Tinsley exchanged her number with Bethenny. What about you? Why wouldn’t she give you the number?” Ramona asked Sonja. “The least she could do was sacrifice her own vacation needs so that we could have the largest bathtub.” Dorinda thought for a moment it would be best for all parties if she fell on the sword and gave the two sorority sisters her suite. “Don’t let them win!” cried Bethenny. “It’s a lottery system, you fools. You lost, sweetie pie,” Bethenny yelled at Ramona.
Ramona threw herself across one of the twin beds decorated in mermaid sheets. “Look at yourself,” said Carole. “Is this really where you saw yourself as a child? Arguing over a room at a Mexican resort with a face that looks like baked ziti?”
As they unpacked Carole revealed she’d brought mustaches. Dorinda brought party balloons. Dorinda told tales of playing break the balloon in the English countryside, a game that looks alarmingly similar to getting jumped in an alley. “Let’s not play that,” sighed Carole.
Ramona was already wasted. As she sat beside Sonja on a lounge chair she clung to her hand and slur her way through what sounded like a matron of honor speech. “I have never loved a friend as I have loved you. You are like the summer tide. It is you and me against the world.” They held each other as the others watched from a few feet away laughing. Dorinda wanted to go to bed, but Luann wouldn’t let her. It had already been too long of a day.
Before dinner Tinsley read through her emails and found out New York Post’s Page Six was writing an expose on how she was an ungrateful houseguest. “It can only be Sonja or Ramona,” said Carole who was wearing a mosquito net. “You guys do realize this is not a big deal,” Bethenny explained, already frustrated the others were ninety minutes late to the dinner table. In the grand scheme of things is having someone say you should buy the lady you’ve been living with a plant all that bad? “You don’t understand,” Tinsley wailed, her eyelashes dislodged and dangling from her lids, “this is not how I want people to think of me.” Well, it was a lot better than people thinking you were booked into a prison and wearing a polyester prison robes, isn’t it? Tinsley didn’t see the difference.
Ramona’s road torn face was now covered in makeup. It had taken her two hours to pick out an outfit for a dinner steps away from where she would be sleeping. She didn’t apologize for being late or for reminding everyone that this was a group trip paid for by Bravo, and not by Bethenny. “Why are you such an asshole?” asked Bethenny. They all wondered the same thing, especially when Tinsley confronted Sonja and Ramona about the Page Six item. “Come on, Sonja, we all know you love the press,” said Carole, “just admit it.” It was Bethenny’s point that if Ramona were the one to plant the item it would have included mention of her wine business or the fact she had redone her tits. Sonja’s fingerprints were all over this. “I avoid the press like a lea,” said Ramona, which even confused her. What the hell is a lea?
Luann had hit her limit. Normally she was fine consuming copious amounts of alcohol, but the Mexican tequila had done her in. She stood up from the table and on her way back to her room fell into a set of hedges. Rather than getting up and dusting herself off she laid there for a few minutes wondering why she left Tom. Should she have left the country? What if one of the wait staff at The Regency calls her to give her updates and she’s run out of cell phone battery? She got up and walked a few more feet and then tripped down a short set of stairs. Her hair remained in tact. Ramona didn’t help her up.
Pool games, tequila shots, and tears.
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