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insecure-hbo-recaps · 7 years

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hella questions

Previously on Insecure: A bunch of bad dates, missing Lawrence, trifling Lawrence, failed "get my ex back" party, Molly is way underpaid. And two minutes of ex sex.

"Y'all fucked?" is the incredulity that welcomes us to the second episode of the season. I can't decide if I love or hate that Issa has one of those old school ugly wooden entertainment center things that I'm sure we ALL had growing up.

Issa is also wearing a hoodie with Harriet Tubman on it... though I can't figure out what the two pictures on her wall are. Molly wants to know who initiated the sex and whether they've spoken since. They aren't really in any better place, and Molly doesn't find this encouraging. Issa is grasping at straws. Molly asks whether it was a getting back together fuck or a "fuck you" fuck. Hmmm. As someone who recently had sex with her ex that she's still in love with... it was definitely neither lol. It was... well, actually, it was a “I put up this picture of me kissing another dude as my facebook profile pic so that everyone could stop feeling sorry for me for being single, but you think I moved on and am dating someone else and don't love your trifling ass anymore and you got the nerve to have a jealous streak" kind of a fuck. This fool asked me like four times "so what's new with you?" As if I would tell if it WAS true, lol. Anyway, the sex between Lawrence and Issa would fall in a similar category - dudes being in their insecure ass feelings but STILL not trying to give you the respect you deserve.

Issa calls the sex "nebulous." Nebulous: unclear, vague, or ill defined. Molly is wary of drawing any conclusions based on this murky outcome, but Issa brightly tries to convince herself the sex means something good. Idk, girl. I don't feel like that. I'm not even going to delude myself that way.

Lawrence is in the gym, because in case you haven't noticed, he ain't a capn crunch eating white socks scrub no more. He starts to text Issa that he made things weird and didn't plan for it to happen, but thinks better of it and deletes it.

Meanwhile, Molly did stick with her therapist and is at a second session. Far from how close mouthed she had been before, she is ranting energetically about her stronger work ethic and going above and beyond but still being underpaid. Honestly, this is why I just solve this issue by half assing everything at work. I'm never going above and beyond. I will ALWAYS be a solid 3/4 at annual performance review time. Fuck your five star review. This job don't give a fuck about me and I don't give a fuck about y'all. And when the pay stops being enough, my resume makes it easy for me to bounce and renegotiate a new salary. But Molly is not interested in conceding defeat and can't understand why she can't figure out a way to get into the all boy's club. The therapist points out that Molly is "shoulding" all over herself. And if you watch this show, you've seen Sex and the City, so we don't need to break down the logistics of this.

The therapist tries to tell Molly she's living in the reality she thinks she should have, not the one she does have. Molly, naturally, doesn't understand what she's saying. The therapist tells her that there are certain standards levied at black women - and let's take the time to point out the difference here... in the past, the standards of a black woman were to singlehandedly manage a household and all of its financial and functional needs, put yourself aside and be a supporting force for everyone else in your life, and maybe you might find a man but how can you expect that, and you shouldn't, because it's too hard, and well, if you can't find one, maybe nice Willie the janitor will be there for you and don't be thinking bout no law degree. That shit ain't the move no more. These days the perfect standards of being a black woman are all about getting your 2013 self titled album Beyonce on - fulfilled in yourself and your life choices and not subscribing to any ideology that says you can't be enough or what you have to offer isn't valuable... with a slice of "even if no one else can see my value, I know it far exceeds that of many of those around me." Later for settling. Later for accepting scraps. But now that opens the door to a battle that's twice as hard, choosing to except the ways in which you are exceptional, in a world that is not willing to agree with you purely because... you are a black woman.

The therapist asks Molly if she would be open to a life that doesn't look like the one she thinks she "should" have. Molly isn't ready to grapple with that idea, and demurs on scheduling the next session. See what I'm saying? Bitches afraid to look at themselves.

Gallery opening. Which, again, is a little too close to Sex and the City for me, but I don't know what y'all be doing in California or New York. Gallery openings ain't a thing in Chicago. The four of them are talking about Issa's party. Tiffany is being annoyingly bougie as usual, Kelli is only mildly extra. I don't... I don't know what to say about these outfits.

I fully respect everything Insecure is doing. But I'd be a damn lie if I said... it was very... right, I suppose. It wouldn't be the route I'd take if it were my show, I guess is what I'd say. They are trying to decide plans for the weekend but Issa doesn't want to go out clubbing - she thinks sleeping with Lawrene means a reunion is imminent so she can't really be going out anymore. Tiffany decides to empathize and shares that her gay husband lived in a hotel for basically half a year while they were going through something. "The point is, even perfect couples have problems," Tiffany says, and I'm not looking forward to the season where they try to humanize Tiffany by showing she hides behind all this "perfect" bullshit to cover up the fact that she is miserably depressed and hates herself. I accidentally paused at a moment that captures this sentiment:

Issa thinks she just needs to give Lawrence time to forgive her; he can't just walk away from five years like that. Every single time I've thought I offered something so incredibly unique to a man he'd be stupid to walk away from it, I was patently, 100% wrong. Kelli points out that for 2 of those years his bum ass mooched off on her couch and Issa should move on. Issa wants to work it out. But... really? Why would Issa want to still be with Lawrence? She wasn't happy with him, that's why she cheated in the first place. And I'm not buying that she saw the error of her ways and truly wants the life they had together in the end. More like being single is shit, especially when you've had someone as your counterpart for a significant chunk of time, and rather than adjusting to something new it's easier and more comfortable to want back what you had.

Kelli lets it slip that Lawrence is with someone knew, which Tiffany was also aware of. They know who she is and everything, but Issa claims she doesn't want to know. In the two seconds it takes to decry that claim, Molly finds Tasha's instagram profile. Tiffany offers some friendly shit-talking ("why does she only speak in emojis?") and Kelli says she looks like a stripper. Issa pretends like she doesn't want to know who she is.

Gallery bathroom. While Issa is doing her "go high or go low?" mirror freestyle, I am just mesmerized by her crown-mimicking braidout. Like. I wouldn't wear it because I couldn't pull it off, but it is fascinating on her. She decides going the high road is overrated, and when Molly comes to check on her, Issa snaps, "pull that bitch up!" The soundtrack that kicks in at that moment - bass heavy intoning "fuck that nigga" - pulls all of us back on the thrones we sometimes forget but need always to occupy.

The next day. For reasons that are unclear, Issa stops by Chad's apartment looking for Lawrence. Chad remarks on her glow up approvingly, which Issa awkwardly plays off. They have awkward small tight for a bit before Issa asks for Lawrence. Chad doesn't want to say where he really is, and if I had the skills/patience to make gifs, I'd insert one here now of the coy way he then slups on the straw of his beet juice. As it is, Issa concedes defeat and decides to leave.

It turns out Lawrence is at Tasha's, watching Defamation. I know that's not the name of their in-series show, but I can't be bothered to find out what it was, so I'm just going to call it the same as DWP's. Tasha is into it while Lawrence is aloof, and the thing that makes *me* most uncomfortable about Tasha - as stated, I do not buy into the thotty because she is traditional narrative - is her liking Real Housewives-y television and occupying that "black women in Atlanta" sort of social space. I do fully approve of her around the way girl oversized gold hoops.

Lawrence says he has things on his mind and Tasha, again refreshingly casually, asks whether he wants to talk about it. She gets a text from her mom, informing her about a family barbecue. She takes a moment and hints about whether or not Lawrence would like to come. Rather than pretend to be oblivious, Lawrence actually makes a noise like he acknowledges this time that he knows this would mean something, and Tasha, sensing his hesitation, immediately walks the invitation back. Lawrence decides to just drop that he slept with his ex. He tries to explain why it happens and says he just wants to be honest, and doesn't know what it means. Hmm. I don't know at this point in their relationship how big a deal this should be, so Tasha's measured response of "I think you need to go" is about level and appropriate. Oh MAYNE, she got that black glass and gold accented vanity mirror that I'm sure was a pattern we ALL had in our moms' bedrooms at some point.

Dunes. Issa is getting ready for bed, trying to resist looking up Tasha. Of course she isn't able to manage it, and pulls up Tasha's instagram.

Law firm. Molly rolls up on the front desk lady and they exchange pleasantries and niceties. Molly wants to know about a hockey game the bosses are going to. She is planning to shoot her shot and try to ingratiate herself into the "boy's club." "I'm scared of you," the front desk lady says neutrally, grinning and turning back to her computer.

Issa's boring after school job. The principle is prejudiced against latinos, Frieda doesn't like it, Issa is tone deaf. Blah blah blah.

So how do we feel about Chad's suit? Apparently he had to wait outside for Lawrence to express his disbelief that Lawrence told Tasha about Issa. Uh, how did he find out about that? lol. Lawrence says he couldn't lie about it because he's "not dirty like that." Chad, and all of us:

Seriously, what's up with Lawrence? He is delusional about his capacity for being a good dude. Which, to be perfectly frank with you, is not very surprising to me for a guy who could mooch off his girlfriend for two years and then be totally blindsided with her being dissatisfied and unhappy in the relationship. Lawrence can't believe he slept with Issa, thinking he was once step out the door away. Chad is overall not surprised that Lawrence went back to being a "John Legend ass nigga."

Apparently they are going to check out a new apartment for Lawrence. Why does Chad need to be there for that? Chad mentions that Issa came by looking for him, acknowledging her glow up: "did she always look like that?"

The broker is a black woman in an off white pantsuit. You know how sometimes you'll be watching white tv and you never see any black people until you need a bus driver or a maid or a nurse or some other menial service person? Insecure does this in reverse where most of the roles of businesspeople in the community are held by black women, which is truer to life. Anyway, she's Patty from ABG. The apartment seems to have disturbingly pale sea green walls which I would not be happy with. I'd feel like my entire apartment is a bloody bathroom from a scary movie. That's the exact same shade of sea foam green blue.

They like the apartment. It's pretty big. I know nothing about Los Angeles real estate but I assume it's extremely expensive. Lawrence is hesitant to commit, possibly because he wants an invite back to the Dunes. Who knows, the scene doesn't elaborate.

High School. Frieda is mad about Principal Gaines not caring about the latino students. She calls it a "racist joke" he made. Issa doesn't care, and Frieda's Clueless White Person rambling doesn't help. They arrive to the after school program to find it full of students. Gaines hooked them up with kids. Issa is thrilled but Frieda is concerned about the lack of latino students.

Molly is riding an escalator somewhere. Where ya going, Molly? Ooooh... eeeee... she's making the bold but fairly ill considered decision to try to rub elbows with the boys club in the box seats for a hockey game.

I don't begrudge Molly attempting to shoot her shot, but there have got to be more... shall we say organic ways for her to attempt it. We look like assholes popping up in entirely the wrong context like this. Now I'm having a flashback to an ill advised friendship with an overweight white woman who, time would reveal, primarily wanted to use me to get an in into black spaces where she could meet black men. But never fear, her black female friends were just as corny and thirsty: her black counterpart was this overweight chick who went out of her way to assure all of us how much she loved hockey and when she talked about basketball she made sure to only talk about the two or three white players on our home team. The thirst was real and it went in both directions, and that is tonight's anecdote on why I make very little effort to make female friends as an adult.

Back at the Dunes, Issa cannot resist the allure of her phone, holding the secrets as it does to Tasha's insta. Of course she eventually caves and we are treated to this snap filtered gem:

Doing the most. But followed up by this:

Loving the wig. Issa throws the phone down pretending she doesn't care, going back to her book.

Back at the hockey game, Molly's attempts to bond with middle aged white men is typically embarrassing. They're drinking shitty beer, Stella Artois as far as I can tell? Molly takes a moment then decides to shoot her shot, socially approaching her boss. He's wearing a ridiculous suit. They make small talk about lobster rolls, but Molly misses the timbre of the humor and her "women are clueless about sports" bit doesn't quite land. Which I'm going to go ahead and chalk up to a racial barrier because let's just admit it. It's not believable to pretend a black woman gives a fuck about hockey. I have sat around with white dudes and tried to watch hockey games. That shit is boring. They score once every fifteen minutes. Let us submit a blanket moratorium on black women appeasing whites by pretending to like hockey.

The next morning at work, Molly tries to maintain cordial commentary with her boss but it's awkward and they both wish it had never happened. She walks away from the break room while her boss and a random white man look awkwardly after her before going back to their conversation.

Hey. Don't you fucking hate that we have to do this shit?

Chad's. Lawrence is on his air mattress, looking pensive. Dune's. Issa is on her mac still stalking. She has progressed to facebook. Then she swaps to Twitter. Then she swaps to the LinkedIn. I have amazing internet stalking skills. I once found posts from a message board someone posted on anonymously in high school. I knew an ex of mine had gotten married like six months after I dumped him and I wanted to know who the wife was - that took licensed private investigator levels of digging because he had zero online footprint and a super generic name. I once found someone's professional license, which listed their contact number, saved the number to my phone, and used it to find their instagram page. Fuck with me dog. No one has shit on my internet stalking game. I'm not crazy just nosy as fuck.

Letsmovealong... Tasha's social media is meant, I'm thinking, to paint her as slightly basic. She has Beyonce quotes in the Beyonce font, she's wearing an uncomfortable suit in her linkedin pic. She takes pics eating jalepeno poppers in ecstasy. And, to be fair, I think that's the characterization we are meant to take away from Tasha. She isn't quirky like Issa. She's just "regular black." And I know that's a thing that people have had negative reactions to, so I don't mind telling you I aggressively defend "regular black." I live on the northside of my city, which is white neighborhoods. Every man I date has no less than a college degree and often a graduate or professional degree, as, having one myself, this only makes sense for finding someone with compatible values. So my ability to occupy a quirky, upwardly mobile black space must take responsibility for blackness as a whole, in the sense that it would be shameful for me to shun "regular blackness." Whenever I'm wearing curly 30 inch remy in my sew in and I meet randoms who ALWAYS ask me whether I'm latina I make SURE to put them in their place. Asking me whether I'm mixed. That's not a compliment, y'all. Don't be on the okcupids and the tinders talking about you're "other" race. I used to block men on sight with bedebees talking about some "Mixed race, other." Don't side with the oppressors. Don't shun regular blackness. (I have seen many, many black people do this, both male and female, and it is incredibly disheartening and disappointing. It's not just men. Women do it too. All of y'all need to stop.)

Issa realizes that Tasha works at the bank Lawrence goes to. So the next morning she takes it upon herself to take a visit, taking note of the Best Buy right next door. Issa goes inside and gets in Tasha's line. "I'd like to make a deposit," she says, and then cold-cocks Tasha. This, of course, is yet another fantasy.

But in real life, Molly is having a cup of espresso on some campus somewhere. Lawrence spots her and decides he's not petty enough to not say hi. I'm loving the linen denim blue button up, less endeared by the flat hipster leather backpack, but I don't mind the attempt. They hug with Molly surprised to see him - she was there for some meeting or other. Lawrence says it's "Meridian" which I know as a health insurer, but probably means something different as it's where he works. Molly's wear a midi dress and heels which... I remember those cut out shoulder cut out things from a time far far in the past, guys.

They make small talk about Lawrence's new job and how they're both "good." Lawrence makes to walk away but Molly, steeling herself, calls him back. She wants to talk about Issa, who she tells him is "still torn up." "And?" Lawrence says, rudely. Yeah, Lawrence has no concept of the fact that their relationship was garbage. Maybe it wasn't always, but where they were when we met them, their relationship was trash.

Molly champions Issa and asks whether he hates her. He says he doesn't, so Molly asks if he'd ever take her back. We don't get to see Lawrence's response as we swap to Issa in her car. She's still outside of the bank when Tasha walks past, talking to a friend. Issa drops the recline on her seat all the way back to hide. Molly calls at this moment, walking away from her conversation with Lawrence and carrying a fabulous pale tan attache case. She makes it clear to us that she was only there as a plant, to run into Lawrence so she could ask him about Issa. This is the new age adult version of the secret three way call.

Issa asks what Lawrence said about her. Molly apologizes, and breaks the bad news that Lawrence says he's done. He ended up taking the new apartment, so he's not coming back. Issa digests this in silence. Molly offers to come by but Issa tells her she's fine. She reclines in her car a bit longer into an annoying security guard comes by and tells her she can't sleep there.

Nighttime. Molly's still at work, skyping with Hannah, the lawyer who recently transferred to the Chicago office. They're both working late. My ambitions and skillset and also personal passions would seem to dictate that I should have been a lawyer. But even when I was much younger and just starting to think about what I wanted my life to look like, I never wanted to give more of a fuck about work than anything else in my life. Like, this being at the office at nighttime shit? No thank you. ....I kinda regret that now. You know? Maybe in the go-go 90s I took the trope of the serious businesswoman who doesn't have time for a man and a life and a family too seriously. I don't know.

Molly makes professional good with Hannah, offering to help with her workload - and this is kind of what I mean - in kind of like "I'm a workhorse, use me." Hannah is touched by the offer, and agrees to throw some work Molly's way, perhaps recognizing the ploy Molly is extending. So that one, at least, went over well.

Somewhere in LA. While Molly's in her office, Lawrence has stopped by Tasha's house. She comes out to meet him where he is waiting by his car. She's wearing ripped jeans and very clunky sneakers. When Lawrence says hi, she regards him coldly. He launches into an apology, telling Tasha she didn't deserve that. Tasha, still playing "cool girl" who doesn't make a big deal about the fucked up shit you're dealing, plays understanding, that she gets why he was still messing with his ex. She knows their relationship wasn't exclusive.

She's giving him an out. But Lawrence muddies this by saying his thing with Issa was over. Tasha tried to let him keep things casual, but his response signals that casual behavior isn't ok while they are seeing each other. Recognizing this, Tasha makes an excuse for why she has to go back inside.

But, at the last minute she just can't help it, and caves, asking him whether or not he wants to come in for dinner. Lawrence, who was walking away, stops and takes her up on it. Damnit, Tasha. You almost made it.

Dunes. Issa, in her hairscarf and tshirt again (this has been a dry week for Issa right?) is putting away her laundry. She is suddenly annoyed about hanging all of her clothes on one side of the closet. Lawrence's shit is gone. She angrily shelves her shit on the opposite side, and, in bed, pulls her pillow in the middle, grappling with the reality that Lawrence is really not coming back.

Swiper more swiping helps blunt some of the pain as Issa pulls up Tinder again, trying, still trying.

#insecure hbo #issa rae #hella questions

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insecure-hbo-the-recaps · 7 years

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hella questions

Previously on Insecure: A bunch of bad dates, missing Lawrence, trifling Lawrence, failed “get my ex back” party, Molly is way underpaid. And two minutes of ex sex.

“Y'all fucked?” is the incredulity that welcomes us to the second episode of the season. I can’t decide if I love or hate that Issa has one of those old school ugly wooden entertainment center things that I’m sure we ALL had growing up.

Issa is also wearing a hoodie with Harriet Tubman on it… though I can’t figure out what the two pictures on her wall are. Molly wants to know who initiated the sex and whether they’ve spoken since. They aren’t really in any better place, and Molly doesn’t find this encouraging. Issa is grasping at straws. Molly asks whether it was a getting back together fuck or a “fuck you” fuck. Hmmm. As someone who recently had sex with her ex that she’s still in love with… it was definitely neither lol. It was… well, actually, it was a “I put up this picture of me kissing another dude as my facebook profile pic so that everyone could stop feeling sorry for me for being single, but you think I moved on and am dating someone else and don’t love your trifling ass anymore and you got the nerve to have a jealous streak" kind of a fuck. This fool asked me like four times “so what’s new with you?” As if I would tell if it WAS true, lol. Anyway, the sex between Lawrence and Issa would fall in a similar category - dudes being in their insecure ass feelings but STILL not trying to give you the respect you deserve.

Issa calls the sex “nebulous.” Nebulous: unclear, vague, or ill defined. Molly is wary of drawing any conclusions based on this murky outcome, but Issa brightly tries to convince herself the sex means something good. Idk, girl. I don’t feel like that. I’m not even going to delude myself that way.

Lawrence is in the gym, because in case you haven’t noticed, he ain’t a capn crunch eating white socks scrub no more. He starts to text Issa that he made things weird and didn’t plan for it to happen, but thinks better of it and deletes it.

Meanwhile, Molly did stick with her therapist and is at a second session. Far from how close mouthed she had been before, she is ranting energetically about her stronger work ethic and going above and beyond but still being underpaid. Honestly, this is why I just solve this issue by half assing everything at work. I’m never going above and beyond. I will ALWAYS be a solid ¾ at annual performance review time. Fuck your five star review. This job don’t give a fuck about me and I don’t give a fuck about y'all. And when the pay stops being enough, my resume makes it easy for me to bounce and renegotiate a new salary. But Molly is not interested in conceding defeat and can’t understand why she can’t figure out a way to get into the all boy’s club. The therapist points out that Molly is “shoulding” all over herself. And if you watch this show, you’ve seen Sex and the City, so we don’t need to break down the logistics of this.

The therapist tries to tell Molly she’s living in the reality she thinks she should have, not the one she does have. Molly, naturally, doesn’t understand what she’s saying. The therapist tells her that there are certain standards levied at black women - and let’s take the time to point out the difference here… in the past, the standards of a black woman were to singlehandedly manage a household and all of its financial and functional needs, put yourself aside and be a supporting force for everyone else in your life, and maybe you might find a man but how can you expect that, and you shouldn’t, because it’s too hard, and well, if you can’t find one, maybe nice Willie the janitor will be there for you and don’t be thinking bout no law degree. That shit ain’t the move no more. These days the perfect standards of being a black woman are all about getting your 2013 self titled album Beyonce on - fulfilled in yourself and your life choices and not subscribing to any ideology that says you can’t be enough or what you have to offer isn’t valuable… with a slice of “even if no one else can see my value, I know it far exceeds that of many of those around me.” Later for settling. Later for accepting scraps. But now that opens the door to a battle that’s twice as hard, choosing to except the ways in which you are exceptional, in a world that is not willing to agree with you purely because… you are a black woman.

The therapist asks Molly if she would be open to a life that doesn’t look like the one she thinks she “should” have. Molly isn’t ready to grapple with that idea, and demurs on scheduling the next session. See what I’m saying? Bitches afraid to look at themselves.

Gallery opening. Which, again, is a little too close to Sex and the City for me, but I don’t know what y'all be doing in California or New York. Gallery openings ain’t a thing in Chicago. The four of them are talking about Issa’s party. Tiffany is being annoyingly bougie as usual, Kelli is only mildly extra. I don’t… I don’t know what to say about these outfits.

I fully respect everything Insecure is doing. But I’d be a damn lie if I said… it was very… right, I suppose. It wouldn’t be the route I’d take if it were my show, I guess is what I’d say. They are trying to decide plans for the weekend but Issa doesn’t want to go out clubbing - she thinks sleeping with Lawrene means a reunion is imminent so she can’t really be going out anymore. Tiffany decides to empathize and shares that her gay husband lived in a hotel for basically half a year while they were going through something. “The point is, even perfect couples have problems,” Tiffany says, and I’m not looking forward to the season where they try to humanize Tiffany by showing she hides behind all this “perfect” bullshit to cover up the fact that she is miserably depressed and hates herself. I accidentally paused at a moment that captures this sentiment:

Issa thinks she just needs to give Lawrence time to forgive her; he can’t just walk away from five years like that. Every single time I’ve thought I offered something so incredibly unique to a man he’d be stupid to walk away from it, I was patently, 100% wrong. Kelli points out that for 2 of those years his bum ass mooched off on her couch and Issa should move on. Issa wants to work it out. But… really? Why would Issa want to still be with Lawrence? She wasn’t happy with him, that’s why she cheated in the first place. And I’m not buying that she saw the error of her ways and truly wants the life they had together in the end. More like being single is shit, especially when you’ve had someone as your counterpart for a significant chunk of time, and rather than adjusting to something new it’s easier and more comfortable to want back what you had.

Kelli lets it slip that Lawrence is with someone knew, which Tiffany was also aware of. They know who she is and everything, but Issa claims she doesn’t want to know. In the two seconds it takes to decry that claim, Molly finds Tasha’s instagram profile. Tiffany offers some friendly shit-talking (“why does she only speak in emojis?”) and Kelli says she looks like a stripper. Issa pretends like she doesn’t want to know who she is.

Gallery bathroom. While Issa is doing her “go high or go low?” mirror freestyle, I am just mesmerized by her crown-mimicking braidout. Like. I wouldn’t wear it because I couldn’t pull it off, but it is fascinating on her. She decides going the high road is overrated, and when Molly comes to check on her, Issa snaps, “pull that bitch up!” The soundtrack that kicks in at that moment - bass heavy intoning “fuck that nigga” - pulls all of us back on the thrones we sometimes forget but need always to occupy.

The next day. For reasons that are unclear, Issa stops by Chad’s apartment looking for Lawrence. Chad remarks on her glow up approvingly, which Issa awkwardly plays off. They have awkward small tight for a bit before Issa asks for Lawrence. Chad doesn’t want to say where he really is, and if I had the skills/patience to make gifs, I’d insert one here now of the coy way he then slups on the straw of his beet juice. As it is, Issa concedes defeat and decides to leave.

It turns out Lawrence is at Tasha’s, watching Defamation. I know that’s not the name of their in-series show, but I can’t be bothered to find out what it was, so I’m just going to call it the same as DWP’s. Tasha is into it while Lawrence is aloof, and the thing that makes *me* most uncomfortable about Tasha - as stated, I do not buy into the thotty because she is traditional narrative - is her liking Real Housewives-y television and occupying that “black women in Atlanta” sort of social space. I do fully approve of her around the way girl oversized gold hoops.

Lawrence says he has things on his mind and Tasha, again refreshingly casually, asks whether he wants to talk about it. She gets a text from her mom, informing her about a family barbecue. She takes a moment and hints about whether or not Lawrence would like to come. Rather than pretend to be oblivious, Lawrence actually makes a noise like he acknowledges this time that he knows this would mean something, and Tasha, sensing his hesitation, immediately walks the invitation back. Lawrence decides to just drop that he slept with his ex. He tries to explain why it happens and says he just wants to be honest, and doesn’t know what it means. Hmm. I don’t know at this point in their relationship how big a deal this should be, so Tasha’s measured response of “I think you need to go” is about level and appropriate. Oh MAYNE, she got that black glass and gold accented vanity mirror that I’m sure was a pattern we ALL had in our moms’ bedrooms at some point.

Dunes. Issa is getting ready for bed, trying to resist looking up Tasha. Of course she isn’t able to manage it, and pulls up Tasha’s instagram.

Law firm. Molly rolls up on the front desk lady and they exchange pleasantries and niceties. Molly wants to know about a hockey game the bosses are going to. She is planning to shoot her shot and try to ingratiate herself into the “boy’s club.” “I’m scared of you,” the front desk lady says neutrally, grinning and turning back to her computer.

Issa’s boring after school job. The principle is prejudiced against latinos, Frieda doesn’t like it, Issa is tone deaf. Blah blah blah.

So how do we feel about Chad’s suit? Apparently he had to wait outside for Lawrence to express his disbelief that Lawrence told Tasha about Issa. Uh, how did he find out about that? lol. Lawrence says he couldn’t lie about it because he’s “not dirty like that.” Chad, and all of us:

Seriously, what’s up with Lawrence? He is delusional about his capacity for being a good dude. Which, to be perfectly frank with you, is not very surprising to me for a guy who could mooch off his girlfriend for two years and then be totally blindsided with her being dissatisfied and unhappy in the relationship. Lawrence can’t believe he slept with Issa, thinking he was once step out the door away. Chad is overall not surprised that Lawrence went back to being a “John Legend ass nigga.”

The broker is a black woman in an off white pantsuit. You know how sometimes you’ll be watching white tv and you never see any black people until you need a bus driver or a maid or a nurse or some other menial service person? Insecure does this in reverse where most of the roles of businesspeople in the community are held by black women, which is truer to life. Anyway, she’s Patty from ABG. The apartment seems to have disturbingly pale sea green walls which I would not be happy with. I’d feel like my entire apartment is a bloody bathroom from a scary movie. That’s the exact same shade of sea foam green blue.

They like the apartment. It’s pretty big. I know nothing about Los Angeles real estate but I assume it’s extremely expensive. Lawrence is hesitant to commit, possibly because he wants an invite back to the Dunes. Who knows, the scene doesn’t elaborate.

High School. Frieda is mad about Principal Gaines not caring about the latino students. She calls it a “racist joke” he made. Issa doesn’t care, and Frieda’s Clueless White Person rambling doesn’t help. They arrive to the after school program to find it full of students. Gaines hooked them up with kids. Issa is thrilled but Frieda is concerned about the lack of latino students.

Molly is riding an escalator somewhere. Where ya going, Molly? Ooooh… eeeee… she’s making the bold but fairly ill considered decision to try to rub elbows with the boys club in the box seats for a hockey game.

I don’t begrudge Molly attempting to shoot her shot, but there have got to be more… shall we say organic ways for her to attempt it. We look like assholes popping up in entirely the wrong context like this. Now I’m having a flashback to an ill advised friendship with an overweight white woman who, time would reveal, primarily wanted to use me to get an in into black spaces where she could meet black men. But never fear, her black female friends were just as corny and thirsty: her black counterpart was this overweight chick who went out of her way to assure all of us how much she loved hockey and when she talked about basketball she made sure to only talk about the two or three white players on our home team. The thirst was real and it went in both directions, and that is tonight’s anecdote on why I make very little effort to make female friends as an adult.

Back at the Dunes, Issa cannot resist the allure of her phone, holding the secrets as it does to Tasha’s insta. Of course she eventually caves and we are treated to this snap filtered gem:

Doing the most. But followed up by this:

Loving the wig. Issa throws the phone down pretending she doesn’t care, going back to her book.

Back at the hockey game, Molly’s attempts to bond with middle aged white men is typically embarrassing. They’re drinking shitty beer, Stella Artois as far as I can tell? Molly takes a moment then decides to shoot her shot, socially approaching her boss. He’s wearing a ridiculous suit. They make small talk about lobster rolls, but Molly misses the timbre of the humor and her “women are clueless about sports” bit doesn’t quite land. Which I’m going to go ahead and chalk up to a racial barrier because let’s just admit it. It’s not believable to pretend a black woman gives a fuck about hockey. I have sat around with white dudes and tried to watch hockey games. That shit is boring. They score once every fifteen minutes. Let us submit a blanket moratorium on black women appeasing whites by pretending to like hockey.

The next morning at work, Molly tries to maintain cordial commentary with her boss but it’s awkward and they both wish it had never happened. She walks away from the break room while her boss and a random white man look awkwardly after her before going back to their conversation.

Hey. Don’t you fucking hate that we have to do this shit?

Chad’s. Lawrence is on his air mattress, looking pensive. Dune’s. Issa is on her mac still stalking. She has progressed to facebook. Then she swaps to Twitter. Then she swaps to the LinkedIn. I have amazing internet stalking skills. I once found posts from a message board someone posted on anonymously in high school. I knew an ex of mine had gotten married like six months after I dumped him and I wanted to know who the wife was - that took licensed private investigator levels of digging because he had zero online footprint and a super generic name. I once found someone’s professional license, which listed their contact number, saved the number to my phone, and used it to find their instagram page. Fuck with me dog. No one has shit on my internet stalking game. I’m not crazy just nosy as fuck.

Letsmovealong… Tasha’s social media is meant, I’m thinking, to paint her as slightly basic. She has Beyonce quotes in the Beyonce font, she’s wearing an uncomfortable suit in her linkedin pic. She takes pics eating jalepeno poppers in ecstasy. And, to be fair, I think that’s the characterization we are meant to take away from Tasha. She isn’t quirky like Issa. She’s just “regular black.” And I know that’s a thing that people have had negative reactions to, so I don’t mind telling you I aggressively defend “regular black.” I live on the northside of my city, which is white neighborhoods. Every man I date has no less than a college degree and often a graduate or professional degree, as, having one myself, this only makes sense for finding someone with compatible values. So my ability to occupy a quirky, upwardly mobile black space must take responsibility for blackness as a whole, in the sense that it would be shameful for me to shun “regular blackness.” Whenever I’m wearing curly 30 inch remy in my sew in and I meet randoms who ALWAYS ask me whether I’m latina I make SURE to put them in their place. Asking me whether I’m mixed. That’s not a compliment, y'all. Don’t be on the okcupids and the tinders talking about you’re “other” race. I used to block men on sight with bedebees talking about some “Mixed race, other.” Don’t side with the oppressors. Don’t shun regular blackness. (I have seen many, many black people do this, both male and female, and it is incredibly disheartening and disappointing. It’s not just men. Women do it too. All of y'all need to stop.)

Issa realizes that Tasha works at the bank Lawrence goes to. So the next morning she takes it upon herself to take a visit, taking note of the Best Buy right next door. Issa goes inside and gets in Tasha’s line. “I’d like to make a deposit,” she says, and then cold-cocks Tasha. This, of course, is yet another fantasy.

But in real life, Molly is having a cup of espresso on some campus somewhere. Lawrence spots her and decides he’s not petty enough to not say hi. I’m loving the linen denim blue button up, less endeared by the flat hipster leather backpack, but I don’t mind the attempt. They hug with Molly surprised to see him - she was there for some meeting or other. Lawrence says it’s “Meridian” which I know as a health insurer, but probably means something different as it’s where he works. Molly’s wear a midi dress and heels which… I remember those cut out shoulder cut out things from a time far far in the past, guys.

They make small talk about Lawrence’s new job and how they’re both “good.” Lawrence makes to walk away but Molly, steeling herself, calls him back. She wants to talk about Issa, who she tells him is “still torn up.” “And?” Lawrence says, rudely. Yeah, Lawrence has no concept of the fact that their relationship was garbage. Maybe it wasn’t always, but where they were when we met them, their relationship was trash.

Molly champions Issa and asks whether he hates her. He says he doesn’t, so Molly asks if he’d ever take her back. We don’t get to see Lawrence’s response as we swap to Issa in her car. She’s still outside of the bank when Tasha walks past, talking to a friend. Issa drops the recline on her seat all the way back to hide. Molly calls at this moment, walking away from her conversation with Lawrence and carrying a fabulous pale tan attache case. She makes it clear to us that she was only there as a plant, to run into Lawrence so she could ask him about Issa. This is the new age adult version of the secret three way call.

Issa asks what Lawrence said about her. Molly apologizes, and breaks the bad news that Lawrence says he’s done. He ended up taking the new apartment, so he’s not coming back. Issa digests this in silence. Molly offers to come by but Issa tells her she’s fine. She reclines in her car a bit longer into an annoying security guard comes by and tells her she can’t sleep there.

Nighttime. Molly’s still at work, skyping with Hannah, the lawyer who recently transferred to the Chicago office. They’re both working late. My ambitions and skillset and also personal passions would seem to dictate that I should have been a lawyer. But even when I was much younger and just starting to think about what I wanted my life to look like, I never wanted to give more of a fuck about work than anything else in my life. Like, this being at the office at nighttime shit? No thank you. ….I kinda regret that now. You know? Maybe in the go-go 90s I took the trope of the serious businesswoman who doesn’t have time for a man and a life and a family too seriously. I don’t know.

Molly makes professional good with Hannah, offering to help with her workload - and this is kind of what I mean - in kind of like “I’m a workhorse, use me.” Hannah is touched by the offer, and agrees to throw some work Molly’s way, perhaps recognizing the ploy Molly is extending. So that one, at least, went over well.

Somewhere in LA. While Molly’s in her office, Lawrence has stopped by Tasha’s house. She comes out to meet him where he is waiting by his car. She’s wearing ripped jeans and very clunky sneakers. When Lawrence says hi, she regards him coldly. He launches into an apology, telling Tasha she didn’t deserve that. Tasha, still playing “cool girl” who doesn’t make a big deal about the fucked up shit you’re dealing, plays understanding, that she gets why he was still messing with his ex. She knows their relationship wasn’t exclusive.

She’s giving him an out. But Lawrence muddies this by saying his thing with Issa was over. Tasha tried to let him keep things casual, but his response signals that casual behavior isn’t ok while they are seeing each other. Recognizing this, Tasha makes an excuse for why she has to go back inside.

But, at the last minute she just can’t help it, and caves, asking him whether or not he wants to come in for dinner. Lawrence, who was walking away, stops and takes her up on it. Damnit, Tasha. You almost made it.

Dunes. Issa, in her hairscarf and tshirt again (this has been a dry week for Issa right?) is putting away her laundry. She is suddenly annoyed about hanging all of her clothes on one side of the closet. Lawrence’s shit is gone. She angrily shelves her shit on the opposite side, and, in bed, pulls her pillow in the middle, grappling with the reality that Lawrence is really not coming back.

Swiper more swiping helps blunt some of the pain as Issa pulls up Tinder again, trying, still trying.

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