This week in Shahs, Asa takes GiGi thrifting with predictable results, Reza and MJ go to Great Neck, Long Island, Seacrest’s writers turn up the conflict, and everybody ruins dinner.
Let us all hang our heads in shame, after the jump.
Mom: So, this is getting out late.
Me: I know, but the kids are out of school right now, so I’ve got to keep them busy, and I had bigger fish to fry.
Mom: So, does your spleen feel better? What does that husband of yours think about all this?
Me: He’s supportive. We’ll see how he feels in September.
Mom: I’m proud of you. This is all Regan’s fault. But I just couldn’t vote for Carter again- or for Mondale.
Me: Yeah, you and the rest of the country. I don’t want to talk about politics right now. So, GiGi and Asa are out thrifting.
Mom: Is that what you call shopping for used clothes?
Me: Oh, Jesus, not this again.
Mom: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with GiGi. I just don’t understand why you’d want to wear used clothing!
Me: Well, you certainly didn’t complain about that Louis Féraud worsted wool dress I found for $0.40 at the por libra.
Mom: Okay, that was nice, and in good condition-
Me: Or the cashmere pea coat I got for $10.
Mom: Okay, fine- but re-lining the damn thing cost how much?
Me: This is El Paso. Relining it cost $50. That’s nothing. Anyway, the store is called Decades, but the only decade I can see is the early 90’s.
Mom: Of course Asa finds the most filaheen frock in the pile. It looks like the wardrobe room from the Carol Burnett Show.
Me: Lady Miss Kier must be the stylist stocking that place. At least we know she’s working.
Mom: No, no Asa, don’t try and stuff yourself in that dress.
Me: I fucking hate it when people do that. I bet she ruined the zipper. Grrrrr….
Mom: That one looks nice. Kind of Grecian, but not too Stevie Nicks-
Me: Of course she doesn’t buy it.
Mom: Oh, Reza. What a nice spread you put out for your mother. Candied pistachios, tea, dried fruit, cheeses. What a good boy. Such a shame he had to ruin it by dredging up photos from her failed marriage. Can’t he see it hurts her??? Everything has to be about him, doesn’t it? He’s an only child isn’t he?
Me: Well, so am I. Okay, so Reza’s dad is Jewish, his mom is Muslim-
Mom: Oh, that is tough. The family didn’t approve. What a shame. Wow, Reza’s dad converted. I know how that goes. Not well.
Me: So, GiGi, Asa, Anita, and MJ are having a girl’s night out at Xai (pron. Chai), and dragging their friends along for the ride. GiGi has Tahira- her stylist. Anita has her sister, Daniela. Asa has Sunny. Sunny has a “multi-million dollar company.” I wonder what that is.
Mom: It’s telling that the “friend” GiGi brings along is also her employee.
Me: Oh, Sunny. The Egyptian kohl look doesn’t fit with your face (or your auburn hair).
Mom: The one woman on this show who seems to know how to do her make up is GiGi. It’s a little thick, but at least the colors she chooses are flattering.
Me: So they barely order dinner, and there’s GiGi bringing up MJ’s tardiness at the Anniversary Party.
Mom: How tacky. What she couldn’t take MJ aside after dinner and have a one on one? She had to drag this out in front of a group of people who have nothing to do with it?
Me: The dinner call-out is an easy trope for the producers to lean on. It’s part of the formula, but it’s just so awful.
Mom: Of course work comes first for MJ, but she should have called.
Me: She very well may have called, and we don’t know. Oh, man, that was a dig at GiGi. Sunny’s backing MJ up.
Mom: “At the end of the day when you’re fired who’s going to be there? Friend’s and family?” What a load of horse shit, GiGi. Jealous bitch.
Me: Oh, you go, Sunny, “unless your family isn’t there to support your ass.” Oooh. Asa’s been talking shit to Sunny behind GiGi’s back.
Mom: Was it Sunny’s place? No, but GiGi should have never brought it up at dinner. Poor MJ, everyone ganging up on her. Now Anita is complaining about her gossiping when she was fall-down drunk in Vegas. Good lord.
Me: Fuck GiGi. Passing all the blame for that onto MJ for insulting Anita. Sunny, I am with you on everything. She is a mean girl. It is like high school. Why? Because GiGi hasn’t done a goddamn thing with her life since then.
Mom: Oh, Christ- look at that hideous frock Asa is wearing. Gold Barbarella bullshit.
Me: If you didn’t want drama GiGi, maybe you shouldn’t serve up beef at dinner.
Mom: I like how Sunny keeps calling GiGi by her given name- Golnesa. Ooh, such venom.
Me: Sammy- that trucker hat is pissing me off. What is this, 2002? Do you even know what it’s referencing?
Mom: I don’t get the trucker hat thing- period. When was it “cool” to look like a redneck?
Me: I was born and raised in Texas and never got it. There’s no irony for me in dressing like a Bubba. I can’t wait to meet Reza’s “knock-your-lights-out, 100-year-old” Nana.
Mom: Should I call Aunty B to come watch with us? I think they’d make good friends here.
Me: Hell no. They’ll meet soon enough at the Lord’s Mahjong table.
Mom: Okay, they’re in New York. God it looks so different from when I lived there in the 60’s.
Me: Dream Boutique Hotel? It looks like a stainless-steel Connect-4. I’m sure the rooms are nice though. Oh, Reza. A popped-collar? Really?
Mom: Wait, it’s MJ’s first Shabbat? I thought she was Jewish, too?
Me: “Yummy white ho’s?” What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Reza? Hipsters? “Low down dirty monkey with a wig on?” Oh, I hope you weren’t talking about a person of color, motherfucker.
Mom: No, MJ- anything with milk or cream like a mousse isn’t Parve. Idiot. Reza, I’m sorry, but your mother is Muslim- Jewish lineage passes through the mother. That makes you not Jewish. Goyim. Now, could your mother’s side have been practicing Jews before their family converted to Islam hundreds of years ago? Perfectly plausible, but don’t start with that shit.
Me: Oh, God, look at that sitting room.
Mom: Okay, I’ve been known to like Court of Versaille furniture in my day, but painted gold??? They couldn’t go with cherry wood? Or mahogany?
Me: Well, at least the drapes are white. But eyelet lace? Isn’t that a little too… provençal for their taste.
Mom: *snork* Look at that hair! Oh, Jesus, why the straw colored dye job? It looks hideous. Oh, Reza’s Nana is not happy.
Me: Jesus, Reza- you couldn’t wait until after dinner to have a talk with your dad??? No, you had to make the poor man cry before! I just-
Mom: I know, hokis, how can he air this kind of burden out on television? I’m disgusted, too. But no more disgusted than I am with Reza’s Nana- Iran- disowning him for his mixed religious heritage.
Me: But then he has to go announce to the whole family how he feels shunned while the matriarch is sitting there eating her tabbouleh!
Mom: Let her go to hell. Yes, there was a better way to handle it, but I have no problem with confronting sectarianism within families head-on. Reza is right. It needs to stop now. Yes, habibi- people are people. Maybe you should remember that the next time you say racist things from the window of a rented SUV.
Next week on Shah’s– Season Finale!
