6-20 “Gone with the Wind Part 2”
I know, I know. This post was supposed to be up two days ago. I do my best. Sometimes I fail. Just pretend that I was caught in a hurricane like our intrepid heroines. When we last saw them, they were spring breaking in Fort Lauderdale at Natalie’s grandmother’s condo, to which Tootie invited an entire bar full of people right before a hurricane hit, stranding them all. Each of the girls has scored a love interest: Tootie is with a hilarious nerd named Peter; Natalie has found affection with a tree named John; Jo’s bond is with Flyman, the band’s singer; and Blair has fled the wretched Morgan “Pre-law, Brown” Wilson to snuggle with our blue-collar handyman, Ben Rutledge.
And now for the conclusion of “Gone With the Wind.”
Luckily, the hurricane that was bound for Fort Lauderdale changed direction and didn’t hit their area at all. Natalie stresses about the party aftermath, but it really isn’t that bad. My friend Josh’s house looked way worse after spring break our senior year in high school.
Tootie agrees. All she has to say is how proud she is that they threw such an awesome rager. Jo, still in her heinous red jumpsuit, tells Natalie that someone is in the kitchen making coffee with her curling iron, which, ew, and I don’t even see how that would work without electrocuting yourself. In typical Jo fashion, she starts waking up the passed-out guests and kicking them out. Natalie frets, Jo encourages her to chill out, and Tootie takes pictures.
It turns out that each of the girls made plans to go sunbathing with their boy-toys on Rock Island. What a coincidence! There’s only one thing missing…
Blair. The last they saw of her, she was being chased around the dance floor by “that Ivy League jerk.” Tootie panics and wants to call the police. That’s too far for Natalie, who says Ben will know what to do. I bet he will. She goes to fetch him.
O hay! Look what’s doing the walk of shame in the hall!
I use the term “walk of shame” with affection; you might say that I choose to reclaim the term from a pejorative to a celebration. You do the walk of shame when you’ve partied all night. It’s rad. I once went to a Christmas party in a red dress with white tights, and the next morning I ate breakfast at the local 24-hour diner in a red dress with white tights that had a giant red wine stain on them. I waited for a cab the day after Halloween in full witch costume, and the cab never came because the dispatcher didn’t believe that “1700 17th Street” was a valid address. My husband and I did the walk of shame last month when we slept through our bus stop and had to get a hotel. So you go ‘head and rock your bad self, Blair.
Tootie digs for dirt, but sadly, all Blair and Ben did all night was talk. Tootie: “Call it what you like, honey!”
Blair insists that it was nothing, especially because she’d never be with a janitor. Oh but it turns out that he is one quarter away from an architecture degree. And it’s such a shame he’s not using his talent and have you seen his apartment where he designed and built everything himself? And he coaches a kids’ soccer team! But he has no ambition and nothing in common with Blair.
Later, Blair is still anything but smitten.
As I said, the mess was not that big a deal and they pretty much have everything all cleaned up. Jo comes in from the deck to tell them that their plans for Rock Island need to change, because it’s underwater. It’s pouring outside and not expected to stop. So much for their vacation in the sun.
“No sun, no tans!” Natalie wails. And just when you think that it can’t get more 80s, Natalie remembers that in the closet there is a sunlamp, complete with reflector.
They decide to meet the guys at the bar again tonight, and Tootie declares that she can call Peter and he can call the rest.
That line has bugged me for as long as I can remember. How the hell did Peter get John and Flyman’s phone numbers? He wasn’t with them at the bar and he didn’t seem to talk to them much at the party. Plus, there are no cell phones in these days, and who knows whether all these guys are at home or just down on spring break? John was at the bar with yucky Morgan – is he a Brown guy too? Is Flyman on tour? Why did the writers even put this line into this otherwise amazing episode?
The doorbell rings. Blair clearly expects it to be Ben, whom, remember, she has no attraction to whatsoever.
He’s just there to handle any repairs they might need, of course. He innocently asks Blair for the glue.
Tootie asks Ben if he met Peter, solely so she can mention that it took him a while to ask her out, thus setting up this conversation:
Blair: “It must be difficult to ask girls out.”
Ben: “Yeah, it can be painful to be turned down.”
Blair: “Would it be easier if I asked you out?”
Ben: “It would be easiest if we left now.”
I ain’t gonna lie. It’s hot.
Later, Jo slowly descends the staircase in a different but equally heinous jumpsuit, its white color carefully chosen to contrast with her terrible sunburn. Jo wants to know why she’s fried and Natalie came out so great.
Apparently, though she aggressively pushed SPF 2 onto Jo, she neglected to cover her own feet, which are now “two baked potatoes.” If you had asked me to recall this moment from memory, I easily could have, except I would have described Natalie as wearing a robe. We learn later that that is in fact a dress, and again, the 80s strike.
Similarly injured, Natalie and Jo kvetch about their misery while always-positive Tootie tells them to pull it together because three sweet guys are waiting for them at the bar. Natalie and Jo grumble but agree.
Enter Blair.
Awwww. I remember the bliss of a new relationship. Yup, Blair declares that she’s in love with Ben, and she’s going to stay in Florida instead of going back to Peekskill with them. She plans to stay a week or so, just to get to know him better. They’ve planned to go camping in the Everglades.
Tootie: “Is this a movie or what?”
Right? And I would pay cash money for footage of Blair Warner camping. Even glamping would be a stretch for her.
The doorbell rings. Blair opens it and google-eyes with Ben while Nat and Jo hobble toward the door to meet their dates.
Ben tells Blair that they can take off to go camping the next day. I guess they’ll just swing by the REI on the way to get Blair some appropriate gear, which, again, cash money for footage.
OOOOOOHHHHHH, all this time Blair assumed that “camping” meant traveling around in an RV. She gulps nervously, but is a good sport upon finding out that the outhouses at the campsites don’t have plumbing: “I’m sick of plumbing.”
I have no doubt that Ben sweeps Blair off her feet. It’s not at all hard to be attracted to the rugged outdoorsy type; have you seen my husband? But if you can’t sleep in a tent or slog through the mud, it’s probably not going to work out in the long-term. But what can you say when you’ve just met and there’s wild chemistry?
At the bar, Jo and Natalie suffer while Tootie bops off with Peter, promising to have enough fun for all of them. Blair and Ben arrive and sit at the next table. John and Flyman join Natalie and Jo, who explains that she’s in excruciating pain, but she won’t let it ruin her fun. So Flyman tries to get her to dance. I have been burned or otherwise injured that bad before while still trying to have a good time on vacation. It’s both frustrating and hilarious, and it’s easier to lean into the hilarity when someone is hanging around and being nice to you.
Oh, suddenly the server is concerned with whether they’re all of age. Tootie leads Peter away by the pipe to “somewhere that [they] can be free.” The server admonishes the two couples left that they can hang out, but can’t have any alcohol, which OK for the ones who really are under 21 but for Jo and Flyman? I’d follow Tootie at this point. Instead, they all order diet Coke cola except for Natalie, who still yearns for the elusive glass of Florida OJ.
Flyman, whose normie name is Billy, laments that he and John had planned a whole evening for them to have a picnic dinner and a walk to Cedar’s Point, where they’d talk, laugh, and “commune.” Natalie gets his drift and is pissed that her injuries have disrupted her good time. Girl, I can so relate. Between the sprained MCL that cancelled our hiking trip to Lichtenstein and the broken toe that sent Victor up the volcano in St. Kitts on his own, I’ve spent a lot of time nursing injuries and lamenting what could have been. I really hope my collarbone is back to 100% by the time we go to the Rugby World Cup in Japan next year.
Over at Ben and Blair’s table, the server interrupts Ben’s romantic stammering. Ben orders two white wines, and once again Facts plays against type by having the rugged, couch-fixing, window-boarding, hurricane-saving masculine hero order a Chardonnay at the pub.
Once alone again, Ben points out how unbelievable it is that they only met two days ago and now they can’t manage being apart. Blair feels the same way. Now is when I feel old because all I want to do is slap some sense into them both. By all means, exchange addresses, keep in touch, visit each other (Blair can afford it), but don’t be declaring Love For the Ages after two freaking days.
Oh. Ben has a construction job in Alaska starting in a month, and he wants her to come with him.
Good, Blair. Don’t make me shake you by the collar.
Back at Jo and Nat’s table, Flyman excuses himself to call his agent, and John follows with no explanation. Natalie and Jo assume they’ve been abandoned. Tootie flits by and rubs salt in the wound.
Ben continues to explain to Blair how much she’d have to give up to come to Alaska with him. In particular, they won’t have very much money. Blair pooh-poohs that issue, pointing out that she has plenty, but Ben insists on living only on his salary.
Yikes. That’s some bullshit that can only be bad for you, Blair. Apart from the hierarchy implied by such an insistence, it’s simply impractical. I gained a substantial increase in financial circumstances from marrying “up,” so to speak. Even though the money isn’t why I love my husband, the fact that his money means that I can buy as many pairs of size nine Keen Whispers as I want to is just a bonus.
I just got distracted and ordered a new pair of size nine Keen Whispers and a new pair of Keen hiking boots. I’m proud of myself. Originally the cart had five new pairs of size nine Keen Whispers and a new pair of Keen hiking boots.
Anyway, it turns out that the rugged, couch-fixing, window-boarding, hurricane-saving hero’s masculinity is fragile, as he refuses to allow Blair to contribute financially to his whisking her away to Alaska. She says that she doesn’t care about money; what she wants is a real family like his.
Look, there is merit to appreciating family in contrast to material wealth. One of my dearest friends and I have had very meaningful conversations about this topic, because I grew up with little money but a really great family, and he grew up with material wealth but a much more fragile family situation. It’s fair. But it grosses me out that Ben and Blair seem to agree that a “real” family = mom + dad + kids. Eff that. There are all kinds and structures of family.
But I guess Ben is hesitant to have children, and Blair hopes he’ll change his mind. Oh, shit Blair, stop it. Then Blair says she has to be sure that in a couple of years he’ll be ready “for a family,” i.e., to spawn. Sister is like 20 years old here! Dammit, Blair, you’re gonna make me come shake you, aren’t you?
Well, he says he can’t promise her that, and apparently it’s a deal breaker, thank heavens. I mean, it shouldn’t have taken this long for Blair to figure out that running off to Alaska with a dude she met two days ago is a bad idea, but I’m glad she finally came to that conclusion, even if it’s for the wrong reasons. She shall proceed unshaken.
Blair and Ben conclude that he timing is wrong, and vow to get together in two years when she’s finished with school and he’s finished with his job. “Hey There Delilah” does not play in the background.
I’m so bummed out that they didn’t follow through with the return of Ben! I love recurring characters and Ben would have been a tremendous addition to season eight. Ben could have come back when Blair is already dating Casey and it’s rugged, couch-fixing, window-boarding vs. service and nurturing. And then Ben and Casey would have fallen in love and run off together. I should write fan fic.
But we still have a spring break to finish, and back and Jo and Nat’s table, a tree lowers its branches behind Natalie.
Awww. And Flyman is back too. It just took him a while to find the right song on the jukebox. What song? YAY THE SONG HE’S GOING TO SING TO HER RIGHT NOW!
Tonight
You are here with me
We are all alone
Walking hand in hand
And I
I get a certain high
Only when you’re near
And then when you smile
I fall in love again
In love again
In love AGAIN!
And lo, we’re in the plane on the way back to New York. The girls, still dressed inexcusably, look at pictures and reminisce about their whirlwind three days in Florida.
Tootie muses that they still don’t know what Florida looks like; they could’ve been in Brooklyn. But no, there’s no Ben in Brooklyn, or John, or Peter, and even if there’s a Flyman in Brooklyn, it’s not the one Jo likes. Tootie, still marveling in post-whirlwind-vacation-with-a-hookup joy, wonders how long it will take her to forget Peter. About as long as it takes for the tall drink of water that is their flight attendant to approach them, it seems.
Natalie leaves to cool down her feet, leaving Blair and Jo to reflect on their weekends. Blair insists that she and Ben will write and call. She already misses him. Jo misses Flyman too. After all, no one has sung to her in twenty-four hours.
And off they go, their whirlwind romances over until Jo runs into Flyman in Atlantic City next season.
