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The Apprentice, Week 7:
Miniature Golf, Chelsea Piers, and Trump National Golf Club
Original Air Date: 3/3/05
(PAGE 2 of 6)
John Gafford steps out onto the balcony to join the ladies, despite their protests. Where she had been ranting on somewhat eloquently to Chris, Audrey crumbles into a mass of swears and insults when it comes to John: “No, I am not going to listen to you, because I have no f***ing respect for you. I don’t care what you have to say, so don’t talk to me. Shut up!” Professionalism be damned.
Of course, John proves what I’ve suspected all along, which is why I never allowed myself to develop a crush on him (and I tell you, pickings are slim this season). He is an incorrigible prick. In some attempt to humiliate/flatter Audrey, he tells her in all seriousness, “You probably will make more money than everybody else, because you’re gorgeous and you’re a sweetheart.” Audrey nearly redeems her trademark feistiness with, “That’s an insult…I have a goddamned brain, John.” But it all falls apart again when she says “F*** you!” and storms off. John gloats that she’s a baby who “needs to go home and come back in ten years.” Well, I’ll only admit that he’s kind of got a point, because I remember what it was like to be working at 23, where swears and tears were pretty prevalent and, well, I don’t work in that place anymore.
How come Angie always answers Ronaphone, and at exactly what time does Rona need to be at work? She seems so perky at 5 a.m. The kids get ready, which we know from shots of toast popping out of a toaster, Craig shaving his neck, Stephanie Myers shaving her eyebrows, Craig gargling…wait a sec. Seriously, it took about three rewinds to figure out that Stephanie is using some sort of device to smooth her eyebrows, not actually shave them.
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Woo hoo! Carolyn Kepcher is back. According to Trump, she’s a legend. I have to agree. There’s another legend—who is not George Ross—and his name is Ashley Cooper. If Trump hires people named Ashley Cooper, then, I must say, no one on Net Worth has a pig’s chance in hell of winning.
The task is to create, build, and operate a miniature golf course at Chelsea Piers. Whoever makes the most money wins, although presumably this does not include the amount they spend on building the thing in the first place. Gotta love when they overlook the whole “is it profitable?” technicality.
Breaking from tradition, Trump manages to make his lesson of the week pair up with the actual events taking place. “Play golf.” And this time it’s not even a metaphor. He seriously just means, play golf. It’s better than lunch or dinner for power players to socialize. I beg to disagree, but then again, I’m no millionairess. The theme is amply illustrated as we then observe two men kissing Trump’s rich patootie over his stroking ability. Again, not a metaphor.
Despite, or perhaps because of, the fact that nearly her entire team sold her out, Audrey wants to be project manager. Except that she really has no expertise in the task at hand or anything, so she explains, “I’ve played miniature golf. I can say I have experience on the level, whereas as far as the project goes, I’ve been there, I’ve done it.” She seems to realize the utter silliness of the statement, “I’ve played miniature golf,” and so follows it up with, “We’ve all played miniature golf. I’m not saying that that’s what—it’s not just about playing golf.” Tana Goertz looks confused. Carolyn just rolls her eyes.
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I’ve played miniature golf. I can say I have experience on the level, whereas as far as the project goes, I’ve been there, I’ve done it.
