Unless, I mean, unless this is a callback to the Price Girls thing, stripping adult-stained sheets reminds her of why she went to Paris, but I doubt it because A) I'm still not back to giving this show that much credit and B) Maybe you noticed but I tend to bring up her childhood in like every scene, and I know exactly why: It's because I'm so hungry to know anything about Nancy, after all this time. She's laid her zombie eggs in my cockroach brain and I probably won't ever like her, but that doesn't make me love her less.
Yes, it's weird, but not that weird: Mike will be reading in his underwear. And socks, and a little bellhop hat. Pretty specific, altogether, but we can't say we're immune to the overall effect. Randy is all over it -- fifty bucks a page, I don't see the dilemma -- and gives Mike some very good advice. "Take off your pants, go read to this old weirdo. Wear boxers. Preferably ones that don't gape. Read fast, and skip paragraphs." If you're secure enough in your identity that you know you can't catch gay, turn to page 48.
This is the smartest thing Randy Newman ever said: "[It's not gay] if he pays you. Or if it's underwater." Words to live by, folks. And the whole What Happened To Andy In Alaska concept just keeps getting more interesting. Besides, Randy says, maybe it'll be such a great book he'll "get lost in the narrative." Randy complains more about Chef Wagner and Mike dicks with him and Randy goes, "Back off, Reading Rainbow." Which is layered, which is appreciated, especially at the end of a long work day.
Nathalie's outside smoking in some agreed-upon employee bitching location and Randy asks how her day went and she goes, "I'm no better than the whore who pees on people." Randy of course immediately tosses that one to Mike -- "Silas, I think Mommy has a story, too!" -- which makes him 3 for 3, and then goes looking for a joint. The piano bar piano man who played over Nathalie's flirtation with Vince comes out and, crestfallen, explains that their usual weed guy, Nigel the valet, went on strike and won't sell to scabs. Meaning there's not a single source in the hotel.
If you know already without looking the exact look that just crossed Nathalie's face, pat yourself on the back. If you honestly thought she meant any of this normal life shit for one second, go back to the beginning because you are lost in her narrative.
Randy goes running right at her face, begging her to turn off the lights in her eyes and the wiggling of her crooked lovely hands, but no. The deal is struck. You could hear it go off like a bell. (Plus, Seattle : Portland :: Ren Mar : Tijuana.) "I'm not thinking anything. I'm not. I'm a maid. I love my job. I leave things clean and in order. We're the Newmans. It's a whole new life!"
...Cut smash jerk fly to the next scene, in which Nathalie attempts to score a scrip for medicinal marijuana so that she can sell it enough times to score a profit high enough to approach a serious supplier and start the whole motherfucker over again. But it's not like she didn't tell them this, back in the motel on the first day of Seattle: