It’s been a wild couple of weeks, what with Hannah being a dick at a funeral, lots of disappointing professional news, Caroline’s inevitable (though, I can sense, impermanent) removal from the scene, and Marnie falling into Ray’s surprisingly willing arms.
Since her grand book plans are officially kaput, Hannah gets a job writing advertorials for GQ. The new gig comes with a closet full of free snacks, which conveniently gives the Girls writing staff license to throw in some Hannah-eats-food jokes, which conveniently gives me license to concuss myself with all the head-desk.
Hannah’s co-workers are fun and friendly, especially Joe- a gawkily cute guy a few cubicles down. He says things like “fedoras are worse than genocide” and calls to check up on her in the middle of the day, so he earns all the thumbs-up emojis. J. Crew's Jenna Lyons makes a brilliant cameo as a hard-ass editor who says things like "Gowanus yachtsman" with a straight face.
Most importantly, her new work friends validate the shit out of Hannah—which is why it’s a little aggravating to come home to Adam, who’s grunting, scratching, intentionally bombing auditions, and thinks that hawking shitty handmade dreamcatchers on Etsy is a valid business plan. “People are fucking stupid,” he grins, holding up his crappy creation.
Pay your auto-mo-bills, Adam. If you did, then maybe we could chill.
Jessa walked into a children’s clothing store last episode and, from what we can tell, has stayed there. She’s steamrolling obscenely wealthy young mothers into buying “chic” black christening dresses, which I guess is supposed to be shocking, somehow. Yawn.
Shosh has decided that her oat-sowing period is over and it’s time to settle down with a nice dudebro. Having decided that Ray, though intriguing, is a no-go, she on-boards a gorgeous lunk named Parker, then changes her mind mid-coitus. “There’s no need to terminate sex just ‘cause we aren’t meant for each other,” she says. “Oh, and can you pull my hair harder?” A pause as he thrusts. “We could also, just, like, snuggle.” Shosh for the gold.
Meanwhile, Ray is up in Marnie’s grill. He doesn’t want last week’s epic tabletop sexytimes session to ruin their friendship, except they’re not friends, which leaves us in a strange place. Marnie’s already starting to wind the string around her little finger; Ray is dancing. How long before the sad Roberta’s brunch? Only time will tell.
But wait! Ray is slippin’ out and Marnie is, shockingly, not flippin’ out. They re-adjust, exchanging the sort of semi-sweet, awkward pleasantries reserved for sex with a new person. This sex scene is basically the polar opposite of the Booth Jonathan starfish nightmare from last season. It’s intimate and raw and fleshy and just plain pleasant. WTF, but in the best way possible.
At a post-nooky lunch, they adorably and horrifyingly argue about the best way to assist impoverished African people, then cause a huge scene about whether Marnie’s bracelet is made of pave diamonds. Why should Marnie stick around? Because, quoth Ray, they have nobody else to eat lunch with. Real talk.
Hannah’s second day on the job is not so rosy. Though she’s been touting herself as the high-and mighty “writer-writer,” she discovers that her co-workers have been published in everything from n+1 to the New Yorker. Embarrassed, she tries to quit and then cries in her cubicle about how a 9-to-5 means the end of her writing career. Interesting, since the last time we saw her pick up a damn computer was in the middle of last season, and we are somehow expected to believe that she wrote an entire book in the interim.
Energized by Joe’s recommendation that she write regularly on nights and weekends, she trundles on back to the homestead to get started. Hurrah! Adam finally got a callback! But Hannah is too exhausted by life to give him props. Oooooookay, lady.
1. Joe and Hannah are totally going to schtup; Adam’s soul will die.
2. Everyone will find out about Ray and Marnie, and it won’t be pretty.
3. Jessa will get pregnant, because YOLO.
What say ye? Is anyone even watching this anymore?
Photo via hbogo.com
Maggie Carr has written about TV, feminism, fashion, and other kinds of lady business for BUST and Thought Catalog, among others. She's never not tweeting about Kanye West at @racecarr.