You know how in Groundhog Day Bill Murry’s character kept running away from the irritating insurance guy from high school, the guy that would never shut up, and Bill stepped in that icy puddle of road slush over and over and over again? The difference with Sammi and ‘Roids is that they haven’t learned to step a little further and miss the damn thing entirely.
And holy sheep shears if every start of the past few episodes hasn’t been just like that clock radio switching on and playing “So put your little hand in mind, I’ll be yours and baby, you’ll be mine…” There’s that blissful moment of “maybe it was all a nightmare,” and then frickin’ Cher is telling Sonny, “And when I’m sad, you’re a clown, and when I get scared, you’re always around.”
So if you guessed that we have round a jillion-fifty of Sammi vs. Ron, then give yourself a prize. I should say that the worst idea ever would be to play a drinking game based on these two, you’ll get alcohol poisoning before the intro finishes. Oh, but what’s that? Didn’t they break up last episode? Well, you’re not done with Sammi Sweetheart until she says you’re through. And then schedules a face-to-face to discuss what you did wrong. And then has a follow up to see if you’ve learned anything. And then there’s the series of memos that bullet point ways to make the next relationship more effective.
Once all of that has happened, then you can go, Ronald.
The day after the break up Ron hears Mike giving Sam some advice – friendly big brother, we live together and oh my god, your fighting is making me crazy kind of advice – and loses his shit, because his fuse is so short there isn’t one. He goes off on Mike for not following “guy code” and that he’s a little bitch, blah blah, he just wants to punch someone.
Mike, because he’s a lot more canny than he looks, realizes that Ron probably has a punch like a Mack truck and just lays down and shows his belly. When isn’t he showing his belly, though? He defuses the situation [hurr] quite nicely, offering an apology to keep the peace, and also acknowledging that there’s a little truth to what Ron’s saying. There are people in that house that could learn from this exchange. Hear that, Blanche and Stanley?
Ron and Pauly hit the boardwalk to blow off steam and to rehydrate Ron after he cried all night long. (No, really.) Sammi and Deena also hit the boardwalk to hook up with hot guys. Single Sammi is Vengeful Sammi, in case you had any doubts. The boys pass by the bar where the girls are, because it seems like the boardwalk is about 100 feet long, so it’s not like there’s a lot of options. Now, it’s Ron and Pauly. I’ll admit, Pauly’s awfully pretty. But Sam thinks Ron’s with a girl because she is insane in the membrane and has selective vision, and immediately goes bananas. This leads to her dancing and drinking with every single guy in the bar. That’ll show him? Him who isn’t there?
They have another fight for who knows what reason (Ron breathed wrong, Ron stepped on a crack, who the hell knows anymore) and it blows up so badly that Mike, who has been hovering of course, slips down the stairs and asks Pauly and Vinny if they can “please come up here now?”
Vinny: “It’s that bad?”
Mike looks worried. Not bitchy, not gossipy, but actual worry. Uh oh.
There’s a lot of stink floating around the internet that Ron was so abusive, poor Sammi, yadda yadda. Believe me, I have no love for a violent guy. These two, though, have fought and screamed and called each other names for so long that no one even listens anymore. And let’s not mince words here, I call him ‘Roid Rage for a reason. The guy is a huge hunk of beef with a short fuse. And he’s in a relationship with the most horrid girl that exists, who not only loves to push his buttons, she needs to push them so she can feel things again.
So in a way, it was a good thing that the Situation was being a creeper and eavesdropping on their fight. I don’t think Ron’s the type to hit a woman, though, I really don’t. He gets his energy out in other ways. Like throwing things. Insults, shoes, side tables, etc. Pauly picks up Sammi to keep her from attacking Ron. Now, she’s screaming, “I hate you! Don’t ever talk to me again! I don’t ever want to see you again! I want you out of my life!” as she’s running towards him. WHICH IS IT, WOMAN.
This is the kind of girl that gives us all a bad name. She can’t say what she wants because she’s been conditioned to be “demure” or whatever, and she’s translated that into playing games with her man, but then also has been taught that “girl power” means being a bitch. You cannot be both. Well, let me build on that: you cannot be both successfully. Be a bitch and own it, but that means you can’t also be coy, you can’t play games, you will be upfront and honest about things, including your feelings, desires, and wishes for your relationship. Or be ladylike, which means you have to act like a frickin’ lady. Ladies don’t tell men to fuck off and that they’re going to bring someone home and fuck them where your man can hear.
You can’t stay on the high road and still dip your toes in the muck on the low.
Ron, because he believes in the Neener Neener philosophy of dating, threatens to do the same thing. It’s sad, but these two kids are, unfortunately, made for each other.
I’m going to skip forward to the aftermath of Sam trying to pick up guys in a bar (she stands on a table and demands a “hot guy,” and they show up. Hey, she is a good looking girl) with Ron only 20 feet away from all of this.
He goes back to the house absolutely ready to Hulk Smash, and gets started on all of Sam’s things. But he’s not throwing her things out the door, he’s breaking them first and then throwing them out the window. Or on the floor. Or against the wall. All of her makeup containers, her storage boxes, her hangers, her side tables, her goddamn glasses.
As a woman that wears glasses let me state how much of a low blow this is. One, glasses are expensive. Two, if you have quality lenses and/or frames, they don’t come back “in an hour.” Three, it’s how the girl sees, you jackass. I’m no fan of Sam’s, but dude, smashing a person’s specs? That’s beyond douchey, that’s enema-y.
Ron stands at the top of the stairs and starts throwing barrels, beating his chest and hooting to anyone who will listen. Mike hops over everything and makes his way to the top level and sees the destruction. Hey bro, woulda been cool if you’d shown up before it was on like Donkey Kong. Bro.
He does say the most reasonable thing all season, though: “Enough about guy code, what about human code?” When calls to reason are coming from Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino, we’ve reached DEFCON 1 in the shore house.
‘Roids McTeenypeen takes it outside so he can cry it out like a boss, and Sammi comes back from the club and sees everything. To her credit, she didn’t fly off the handle and break any of his stuff. Match point, Sam. Bring it home. She sees her eyeglasses and tears up. She goes outside to of course talk it out with Ron, which leads to more bitching and whining and this is the longest damn tennis match in history.
Because this is all about Miami now, even though they fought like cats and dogs before Miami, Sammi just cannot let it go. If you can’t let go that your partner cheated on you, then they shouldn’t be your partner. Why is this hard? She asked Ron, “How could you sit there and lie to me while I was crying my eyes out?” And Ronnie, ready to just be freaking done (so say we all) goes the honest route. “Which time?”
Seriously. I bet if you looked through her busted things you would find all sorts of personal torture devices, because this girl is so masochistic. Shut up asking him why he cheated on you. Because he did. Shut up asking him if he knows what he did to you. He doesn’t, he’s not capable of complex thought. Shut up demanding closure, answers, reactions, apologies, all of it. That dead horse has been beaten so bad it’s looking like sausage.
Sammi retreats, and finds the other girls. She whispers to the them that she’s leaving. Like, leaving leaving. Not calling her mom to come get her and then calling back after everyone apologizes for putting her bra in the freezer, but that’s what you get when you fall asleep first at a slumber party. She’s called a cab and has the gang helping her pack up what can be salvaged.
She quietly tells each of the guys (minus Ron Rage) that she really needs to get out of Dodge. Vinny, oh my sweet Baboo, looks really sad about this and tells her he’s worried that “if [she] goes, [she] won’t come back.” Because to Vinny, they’re still a family, and you still love your crazy cousin even when she drives everyone crazy with her meth-head boyfriend and forcing the family to buy starter kits for her latest pyramid scheme and then splits town.
Sammi then tells Ron. He sits to take the news, tries to get her to sit with him, but she refuses to get close to him (I won’t lie, I was sure that she would sit down and we’d be right back at square one.) For a brief, tiny moment, I got it. I saw what it was between those two. Ron just looked like a normal, un-chemically enhanced humanoid with actual emotion and concern on his face.
“Samantha,” he softly pleaded.
Sammi just looked at him, completely exhausted, still in love, but recognizing how unhealthy they are for each other. She looked like someone that actually could be a “sweetheart,” someone you could care for. She leaves the house and gets in the cab, Ron stands on the balcony and watches her go.
The house collectively sighs and waits for the forty-ninth shoe to drop.
Since there just wasn’t enough funny in this episode, and because they have wrung out every little bit of joy in what makes watching this show so wonderful, I’ve decided to rewrite what I believe should have happened. Here’s your bonus material for putting up with all the frickin’ shouting.
Snooki and Deena decide to dress the boys up and hit the boardwalk. Snooki falls off her heels a few times trying to tug the skintight leopard print dress over Vinny’s shoulders. Vinny just laughs, looks at the camera and shakes his head and mouths, “Sorry, Ma.” She laughs to the point of breathlessness when the hem of the dress gets tangled up in Vinny’s boxers and Seabiscuit slips out.
Pauly chose a pair of screaming lime pleather hot pants from Deena’s things and matches it with a shredded t-shirt that’s been bedazzled on the neckline. Deena laughs too hard while trying to apply eyeliner and smears it on his eyelid.
“Give it here, girl.”
Pauly even knows to open his mouth and tilt his head down as he gets the kohl on the lower lid nice and thick. He bats his eyes at Vinny and asks in a falsetto, “How do I look?”
Snooki crosses her legs. “Ya frickin’ hot. You want to be the bread in a meatball sandwich?”
Deena turns her idiominator on and starts spitting out “Let’s just go with the flow gotta spend money to make money two heads are better than one you scratch my back I’ll have sex witchu.”
They all go to a bar on the corner, do enough shots to where they don’t care that they’re getting looks, and have a messy four-way in the hot tub, the girls too blitzed to realize that Vinny and Pauly didn’t really pay it forward to them. Hottest. Episode. Ever.
Mike comes home from the library and sets himself up in a nook with a glass of Pinot and settles in to “The Mermaid Chair.” Sometimes he just likes to escape, you know? And while he’s there, he might as well have a little vicarious romance and self-examination, am I right, fellas?
Ron’s mother comes in the next day from the Bronx to spend the day with him and Sam. She mentions a fun little online writing group she’s joined, and that she’s trying her hand at writing a story.
Sammi tells her that she “could practically write a whole book about what happened to me.”
Ron’s mother looks surprised, a less tactful person might call it bafflement. “Oh? And why is that, dear?”
“Bunny Bixler and I were in the semi-finals – the very semi-finals, mind you – of the ping-pong tournament at the club and this ghastly thing happened. We were both playing way over our heads and the score was 29-28. And we had this really terrific volley and I stepped back to get this really terrific shot. And I stepped on the ping-pong ball! I just squashed it to bits. And then Bunny and I ran to the closet of the game room to get another ping-pong ball and the closet was locked! Imagine? We had to call the whole thing off.”
Ron looks on, a bland “I’ve heard this a thousand times” expression pasted on his face. His mother is still waiting for the horrible part of the story.
Sammi blinks furiously, wondering to herself if she didn’t tell it right? Tournament, semi-finals, great volley, stepped on it, locked closet, make out session under the stairs with Bunny, it’s college, that’s when you experiment, canceling the tournament. No, she said it right.
“Well, it was just ghastly!”
Ron’s mother smiled demurely and asked if anyone would care for an apéritif.
Jenni, who had spent the whole day with her new beau Roger volunteering at a soup kitchen, cleaned the whole house, top to bottom, smartened up the sofa cushions by pounding them into perfect squares and hitting the top center with the side of her hand to give it that polished look.
They all worked together to make an amazing salad, didn’t over eat, and told yo mama jokes all night.
And I swear to god, if I wake up and hear those damned horns and “I got you babe” on repeat, I am going to lose it. Bring back my wacky shenanigans, MTV!