Camille left the boat as she worked on it: With a major attitude problem.
“It was nice to know you, but this is debauchery,” she says to Captain Sandy on her way out, which is not even close to the word’s definition. I cackle when she tries Rachel. Please, please, please try her, Camille, I beg of you. Rachel quickly puts Camille in her place, reminds her of her shortcomings, and brings up her drinking on the job before sending her on her way.
Fraser is still desperate to be a good guy and attempts to smooth things over with Camille, which backfires, of course. He cries in the pantry. Grow up, Fraser! She’s a bad employee and this is also a reality show. It’s not that serious … I say as Ben weeps and weeps and weeps as Camille disembarks. At first, I feel for the guy. He claims Camille is the first person he’s really opened up to in over two years. He accepts Captain Sandy’s condolences. He seethes at Alissa, blaming her (wrongly) for Camille’s firing (side note: when he says she got rid of a superstar, I started laughing out loud). And then! And then we get a sneak peek at the rest of the season, and Ben has a whole-ass new girlfriend? And they have nudes of each other on their phones? And they’re making out and sleeping in a guest suite? At least Tony can catch some shut-eye now! BUT THEN CAMILLE COMES BACK? Bravo is playing with us! And we’re just letting it happen!
I want to focus on the recap of this week’s episode, but it feels impossible when we get previews of Fraser possibly getting fired. How many replacements are we getting? Ben’s new blonde girlfriend is a chief stew, we learn, but that doesn’t mean she’s Fraser’s replacement necessarily. She could very well be Camille’s replacement in more ways than one. Captain Sandy and Fraser butt heads, and she seemingly calls him a cancer, as well as the head of a stinking fish. I don’t know what to believe! And I don’t know how to ignore all the possibilities just to talk about Rachel’s tasting menus that drag on and on.
I’m relieved Sandy said something because someone had to say it: The food is taking too damn long. These guests aren’t asking for an eight-course dinner service. They want three to four courses. They don’t want to be at dinner for two-plus hours, and they sure as hell don’t want to pour their own soup! These guests are handling the mid-tier service quite well (we need to discuss Imogen later), but you can only put so much makeup on a pig. Sandy is absolutely right when she says that Rachel is her own worst enemy, and I thought their conversation on the bridge was a prime example of how to deliver constructive criticism. Rachel ultimately is a pro and handles Sandy’s advice with a smile and will to change … or does she? Fast forward to the next day, and the guests, including pregnant Louisa, are starving on the beach, waiting for their picnic to arrive. Captain Sandy rolls up her sleeves and gets to work in the kitchen because Rachel is still moving at a snail’s pace. How hard is some lunchtime fare? Just slap some sandwiches together and call it a day?
Back to conversations on the bridge — can we talk about that other captain bitching Sandy out via radio about moving St. David because of the alleged wind that only reached five knots? Sandy absolutely girl-bossed the fuck out of that rude-ass entitled captain, and I giggled with glee while watching Bravo’s knot counter barely inch its way up throughout the night. Twenty-five knots, my ass!
What else, what else? Ah, yes, Imogen. What I would give to be Imogen. Wearing AirPods to dinner (“I’m not going to sit here and listen to crickets”), giving Robyn and dancing on her own until two in the morning, spilling her soup. She’s, as the kids say, the personality hire of this group, and she’s delivering. I can’t wait to see her soar next week.
There’s also Alissa and her reaction to Camille’s firing. She’s anxious, she’s insecure, and she’s spiraling. Alissa, just focus on yourself. Don’t mind Ben and his scorn. He’s finding a new boo in a week or two anyways. Camille is a shitty employee, point blank, and we need you to step it up. The primary guest is noticing that you’re a stew short, and that’s mortifying poor Fraser. I’m concerned about his heart rate at this point. Where’s that top service Alissa we know and love?
From the Galley
• Hayleyism of the week? “Apparently, I’m allergic … to the Caribbean and to work.”
• Camille sporting Peng’s white furry jacket on her way out is so very. As is her saying, “Camille out. Drop the fucking mic.” Girl, be serious!