Bravo bestowed the title “When Pigs Fly” on the third episode of the grand masterpiece that is Most Eligible Dallas. I have taken the liberty to rechristen it “Tired, Old Things” because it’s full of tired, old things. As we chronicle the happenings of the most eligible people in Dallas—surely, all the world—let’s do so by cataloging all the old leftovers we got served.
The tired, old blood feud. The bloody vendetta that has bitterly divided the most eligible people in Dallas for at least three weeks has to be addressed. Single-mother hater Courtney has decided to make peace with Neill. She phones her arch enemy to arrange a showdown—apology, whatever—at the Dallas Arboretum at high noon 3 pm. When she hangs up, Courtney congratulates herself. “And that’s how it’s done!” she says—out loud—to herself. And then she walks over to her step-in closet, flings it open, and says, “It’s on bitches”—out loud—to herself, before donning a ridiculous long red gown along with the requisite Amber Venz jewels.
Neill has decided to go a little less formal: she and Maje are rocking matching hats. And she’s looking good, right? The Wayfarers and red lipstick? It works for her. And name and hat aside—Maje is super cute. When the Lady in Red approaches—sans slip, by the way—he doesn’t even start crying. Before Courtney can begin her carefully crafted, articulate, thoughtful apology, she needs some white wine. “I mean, you’re like the exception to the rule,” Courtney stammers. “You’re the urban legend. You’ve been around more than once.” To sum up: she’s ready to be gal pals.
Neill, to her credit, understands that she’s just been served the world’s worst nonapology. “Was that just her trying to apologize?” she marvels. “Because that definitely wasn’t an apology. Excuses.”
Nevertheless, the two high five, and peace falls upon the land of Dallas. Please God, let this be the end of this storyline.
The tired, old newspaper. Remember that newspaper that so troubled Courtney during the first episode? It magically reappears. The only explanation? The gang time-travels back to that very same brunch at Sfuzzi. They have to, because they are planning something so momentous that it could change the space-time continuum: they are curing cancer. See, Courtney has signed up Glenn and Matt to be part of a date auction. (Sorry, Drew!) While Matt and Glenn try to comprehend the turn of events, she tells them how it works. “You’re going to come up with your dream date—it could be a hot air balloon,” she explains helpfully. Once the date is established, the men will wear tight black t-shirts that say, “Ask me about my package.” Girls will go mad and bid millions of dollars, and cancer will be eradicated.
“Girl, that is awesome,” Glenn says.
And indeed, it is.
The tired, old cigarette. Poor Drew really isn’t given much to do this episode, so he decides to also help cure cancer. He considers going to graduate school, getting a Ph.D., and using his money to fund his own research, but while he’s at the Black Finn, a better plan presents itself. “This is all about f***ing with Glenn,” he says. “I came to play.” He decides to buy Glenn. That’s right. He will buy Glenn, and keep him in a cage in his fancy high-rise, and Glenn can sing and take in the panty-dropping view. But Glenn doesn’t want to live in a cage. He wants to model and hang out in his attic apartment, and play football, so he flirts like mad with women clad in strange headbands and gold lame. Everyone wants Glenn.
No one wants Matt.
But Drew remains undeterred. He gets his checkbook and bids a cool 900 big ones for Glenn’s soul. That’s when Bravo cuts to Drew’s interview, and he wordlessly takes a puff on that old cigarette. He can do that. He just cured cancer.
Unfortunately, like many a rich kid, once Drew gets a toy, he easily tires of it. He gives Glenn to Courtney.
The tired, old balls and chains. Guys, what is going on with Tara and her taste in men? First Jody Dean and his flavor saver make a special guest appearance while she and Courtney get pedicures at Posh. Why does he show up? That’s never made clear. Does he want to be on television that badly? Courtney points out that he has a “face for radio.” Obviously, he disagrees. Anyway, we find out that he’s been divorced four times and has three children. Tara likens him to something “in between George Clooney and Bob Barker.” And everyone laughs until Bob Barker enters and says, “That’s rude.”
Because Tara is worried that she will always come behind those darn kids, she decides to play the field. Enter Jesse, a rather mature man that Tara met at her birthday party. “He’s got a great reputation. He’s good looking. Every girl in Dallas wants to date him,” she says. (For the record, I do not.)
Okay, I’m not going to pretend that any part of this “date” was real. It’s clear that someone had a conversation with Jesse about playing the jerk to Tara’s lady-like character. But Jesse is older, see? He doesn’t really know what that means. “You mean like Emperor Ming from the Flash Gordon serials?” he asks. And the producers—once they google that reference—are freaking out. So they arm sweet Jesse with a couple of seasons of Jersey Shore so that he can prep for the date.
That’s the only plausible explanation for this ridiculous turn of events. The date starts out fine. He takes her to this “little jazz club” called Sambuca. Once they settle in at the cozy, 50,000-square-foot space Jesse channels The Situation. He informs a waiter that asparagus makes his pee smell. (Less offensive than silly and obvious.) Then he turns it up. He says of the frock Tara was wearing when they met: “Can I be completely honest with you? I wasn’t a fan of that dress.” He saves the best for dessert. “I’m DTF,” he says.
I did not know what that means, so it was my turn to google.
But Tara watched those DVDs. She knows what it means. “You’re about to get slapped,” she says. On the way out, Jesse offers to sideswipe a cop car with his Porsche. Give this man an Emmy!
The tired, old Rico Suave. Matt’s self-esteem takes a hit this episode. The aforementioned date auction is a disaster for him. He garnered only $450, in part because of his pouting. “There wasn’t a girl worth talking to,” he says. “I was disappointed with the location. I was disappointed with the people there.”
Earlier in the episode, he has coffee with Holly, when his friend Annie just happens to walk by. At Victory. She just happens to walk by. Anyway, Matt is expressing that he’s about over all these women who want to do nothing but marry him. It’s exhausting. Holly eventually leaves, and Matt talks about how pretty she is. Annie corrects him: “Marginal at best.” This seems to shake him.
Later, he has a date with MJ, a “model” who has obviously spent the earlier part of the evening drinking and applying lip gloss to her face. Being a busy businessman, Matt does not have time to pick her up and drive her to Four Lounge. Instead, she is there waiting for him. (Didn’t we all say a prayer of thanks that MJ opted to wear her Jockeys when she flashed her lady bits?) Matt immediately calls over the waiter. “Let’s do two of our most specialty drinks. The ones that really stand out.” This results in some horrible cotton candy concoction and a compliment. “You have a lot of class,” MJ says. “And you know how to treat a girl.”
Matt also asks good questions. “What’s your thing?” he asks.
“My thing is work and working out,” she answers.
And then Matt starts blabbering on about his favorite subject: being single. “I mean, are you, at 25, ready to commit? (The ages on this show are not possible, by the way.) MJ makes the mistake of nodding. Check please! Matt makes a weird noise (belch? cough?), says it’s late. He doesn’t even offer to walk her to her car. Nice, dude.
The tired, old will they? or won’t they? storyline. The producers try to fake us out with the possibility of a love connection between Glenn and Courtney. They send them to a winery and to a fantasy suite at NYLO. Nothing happens save for a high-five. (The high-five is Courtney’s thing this episode.)
No, the real love of her life is Matty. She bristles when he mentions going out with MJ, making fun of the possible things those initials stand for. “He always goes out with girls with names that aren’t, like, Ashley, Lindsey, or Brittany,” she says. (Is it possible Courtney doesn’t know Brittnye?) But to be fair, Matt doesn’t know what MJ stands for. “It’s Canadian,” he sighs.
After each of them return home from unsatisfactory dates, they settle in their respective beds and chat on the phone. Courtney baby talks and guffaws. Matt plays on his computer and tries not to slide off his satin sheets. “What color are my eyes?” Courtney pleads. “Green,” he answers. She laughs some more. “You’re stupid,” she says.
It’s the smartest thing Courtney has said in three episodes.