Desperate Housewives
Liaisons

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Evany: B+ | Grade It Now!
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Deep, Deep Freeze

Scavoria. Lynette is having no luck with the candidates for the manager position: the last one "kept asking what [they] do with the food people don't eat." Andrew: "What do you expect for $8.50 an hour?" Wow. That is pretty bad, especially considering that slinging potatoes at In-N-Out pays $9.50? Though maybe a dollar goes further in the Eagle State. Even so, working for conniving Lynette merits some serious hazard pay. Lynette points out that Andrew is making $8.50, and that he doesn't seem to have an issue with it. Andrew: "That's because I'm doing the beer delivery guy." Nice to hear Andrew's still keeping his oar wet; I was worried that since turning Good, Andrew had been stripped of his gayness. (Though I'll admit for one dark moment, I thought "beer delivery guy" referred to Travers.) And yet, once again I wonder what the hell happened to Justin? After recovering from Andrew's TMI, Lynette calls out the name of the next interviewee, "Rick Coletti" (played by TV-handsome Jason Gedrick of LAX lame), and it turns out he's sitting three inches away. Um, Lynette? Here's an HR tip: maybe avoid complaining about the person you just interviewed right in front of the other candidates? Nick, it turns out, is wildly overqualified: for one thing, he knows how to spell "calzone," and he also knows how to deep french-kiss some serious ass (he judiciously lowballs when Lynette asks him to guess her age). He was also a "sous chef at Cucina," which just happens to be the fancy restaurant where Maybe Mayor took Gabby on their first date (and six more points for Team Continuity!). Okay, but if this guy has such great credentials, what's the catch? Cut to...

...Tom, back at home, screaming at Mrs. McCluskey to bring him more pain pills. $8.50 says he develops a Vicodin problem within the next two episodes. Lynette bursts in, thrilled with the news that she's found their new manager. But when Lynette confesses that the wildly overqualified candidate is recovering from the smallest of cocaine problems, Tom puts his foot down. Or, more precisely (seeing as he's incapable of putting any feet down, for the next five months at least), he whines like a bratty little girl. No junkies at the Scavoria! Crushed, Lynette sighs and wanders off, vaguely saying something about how she guesses she'll "keep looking." Mrs. McC, there with Tom's pain pills, cuffs him brusquely on the head. Ha!

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Desperate Housewives

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