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Week 5: Airstream Trailers and Massage a-Go-Go's
Original Air Date: 2/17/05
(PAGE 6 of 7)
Alex is seriously like one of those secretaries from old black-and-white movies. Take off the glasses and suddenly he’s Mr. Sexpot. He turns against Stephanie too.
Kendra picks on Michael a little bit, at which point Trump interrupts, “Michael, they’re not loving you. I mean these girls—you’re supposed to be a good-looking guy. I don’t personally think you’re that attractive.” Okay, first off Trump, that was just plain mean. And second, you really must stop calling referring to the men as men, and the women as girls. And lastly, what a dude looks like is irrelevant when he’s a big tool and…oh, forget it.
“Mr. Trump,” Erin ventures. She’s ballsy enough to interrupt because she knows Trump wants to do it to her like they do it on the Discovery Channel. “Michael has become a boardroom cliché.”
“Very good,” Trump murmurs. “You have some good lines of crap.”
“I was a street hustler…I was shameless, okay? I was shameless…fire…belly,” Erin purrs. Well, there was more in between all that, but whatever. “Michael was just sort of laissez faire,” which was an awesome use of a term I haven’t used since 8th grade government class.
Michael, the Comeback King, just says, “You’re trying to say that I didn’t get anybody in the door?” Yes, that’s exactly what she’s saying. “You don’t think so?” and he wrinkles his brow in confusion.
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Surprise, surprise, Bren chooses Stephanie and Michael to enter the boardroom.
As they all exit—damn, I just realized how short Bren is—Alex shakes his hand and Michael pats him on the back.
Ooh, bad move. “Don’t be so nice to him, Michael,” Trump chastises with a look of absolute disgust. Michael so lacks charisma that he can’t offer any sort of witty response. “I know that was more of a…” he trails off with an awkward grin. He’s just about to close the door, but Trump hasn’t finished. “Don’t kiss his a**, he hasn’t done anything for you.” Michael kind of pokes his head through the crack in the door and mumbles, “I know, right?” still smiling. He’s torn between hoping that Trump is just joshing him, because they’re actually the same person on the inside, and picking up on the fact that Trump actually feels true-and-utter contempt for him.
“It’s ridiculous, you’re kissing his a**, and he just picked you to be a loser,” Trump says. While a simple “I’m a good sport” or “Screw off, Mr. Floppyhair,” would have sufficed, Michael is too flustered to say anything coherent. “It’s more of the, uh…” Trump gives up on him, “All right, just go outside.” Michael exits with a huge grin as if convincing himself, oh, that Trumpman is such a kidder.
As the three losers wait in the lounge, Trump consults. George is against Stephanie’s negativity, which is sort of a double negative when you think about it. Not-Carolyn offers up brilliant advice: “Michael did not get the word out as well as he should [have], and Stephanie was maybe too critical.” Fab. Thanks Not-Carolyn.
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Michael has become a boardroom cliché.
