Everyone sits around the lobby. Little Stacy looks like someone's little sister. One of the Blondes crosses and uncrosses her legs. Fingers are knotted together. Hands are rubbed. Sweat is spilled. Wes eyes everyone with disdain, thinking, "I could gut you with my fishing knife in four and one-half seconds." Maria says, in one of the most unfortunately nasal and whiny cadences reality television has produced recently -- which is really saying something -- that when she first got into the room with everyone, she knew that just as she was trying to figure everyone else out, they were figuring her out as well. She picks out Bradford to be afraid of, citing his "shaved head." You know, sometimes bald is just bald, lady. Bradford -- ew, he's an attorney, too! -- says that he thinks first impressions are really important. He says that his first thought in any room is to survey everyone's weaknesses. He decides to single out Pamela, saying she "looks like Cruella DeVille." He finds her "overly aggressive," so he figures she will be an easy mark. Yeah, keep tellin' yourself that, Sparky. The assumption that women who are aggressive are secretly weak and insecure? Always a safe one. Go with that.
As Robin tells them all that they can go in to see Trump, take note of the fact that essentially all of the men are dressed in businesswear, while about half of the women are wearing what are obviously party dresses. The tube dress, in particular, is a nice touch. Because that does, I will admit, scream of professionalism. It's just a different profession. We cut to an interview with John, who immediately reminds me of Boyfriend Bill. He's a "marketing director," and he talks about how the situation was anxiety-producing, but you're also "pumped up." The statute of limitations on "pumped up" has officially run out. It just happened right there. If you were listening, you may have heard the "Ding!"
Everyone walks into the Boardroom, where Carolyn and George are already waiting. They all settle in and wait. And then Trump comes in, sits down, and compliments everyone on how good-looking they are. Well, at least he's narrowed it down to their most promising quality. He welcomes the candidates to New York, which he assures them is "mean" and "vicious." I actually don't find New York all that mean or vicious. I have a theory of New York which is very complicated, which I formulated the last time I was there, in which I posit that New York is full of so many people that if you live there, you would never get any work done if you relied on judging people by outward appearances, which is inefficient. Thus, New York has been forced to fall back on attempting to judge people on merit, which is why no one cares whether you dress like all of the Village People at the same time, but they will shoot you where you stand if you don't move when the Walk/Don't Walk sign changes. I don't think that's vicious. I just think it's practical. ["Amen. We're actually fairly pleasant, most of us. We're just in a damn hurry." -- Sars] We could use a little more of that up here, especially in the winter. Anyway, Trump welcomes them to their interview with him and his "people." He says, "Unless you're not from this world [meaning 'unless you didn't watch last season,' which is the same thing], you know who they are." He first introduces the lovely Carolyn, who has had her hair de-helmeted since last season and looks closer to her actual age and really quite stunning. Trump calls Carolyn "tough" and "nasty" but "actually very nice." He then turns to George, who looks thinner than last year in a way I can't decide whether to think is good or bad news, and says that George is "tough" and "nasty," but "not very nice." Aw. That is so not true, Trump. Quit giving George shit, or he'll ding you in the noggin with a Polident tablet.