David and Yolanda sat together at the head of the magnificently appointed table. "I'm shocked now at how many women don't know how to be a great homemaker, hostess," he said in praise of his fourth wife. (It's like he sees right into my cold, inhospitable heart!) "She just gets everything right, without being frou frou. Because I hate hate hate frou frou." I in fact do not believe that you hate frou frou. Chris Botti, 50, revealed to the table that his bloodstream was 70% Botox but then Taylor interrupted and not to say "Me too!" She instead reminded everyone at the table about Brandi had supposedly bragged about sleeping with everyone in Beverly Hills and isn't she such a slut and cackle cackle, slurp slurp. Yolanda turned inward, gazing down the table with extreme disapproval. "Taylor seems tipsy," she purred with marble aloofness. "There is nothing more ugly than a drunk woman."
Kyle might have been a little tipsy herself. How'd you two meet, she demanded of her hosts? "We met through her ex husband," said David, as Yolanda ceded the floor to him entirely. "I was actually single and was going to move in with Mohamed. Can you imagine Mohamed and I living together?" Bravo would have killed for that show. "As I was in his house going 'This is going to be nice, we're going to have fun' I kept seeing these pictures of this beautiful woman. I said 'I'd like to meet her, is that possible?'" Well little did he know that in the Arab culture people are fine introducing their exes to their friends but they don't always love when that turns into a bona fide relationship. (That's every culture, yes?)
By then Kyle had moved on to David's career and he was loving the opportunity to expound some more. What's the favorite song he's ever written? He made a brief show of not wanting to sit at the Grammy-laden piano. By the way, he'd just assume keep all his Grammys in the garage but Yolanda thinks they're cool and so he acquiesced. Not buying it, David! He slid onto the bench and started feeding lyrics from the Urban Cowboy ballad to Michael Johns. "That was my Mom's favorite song!" cried Kyle, who couldn't believe that David Foster had basically penned the soundtrack to her childhood. "I'm big with the over 60s," he said, which I think was his way of telling her to can it with the references to her being a kid during his heyday.
Anyways, drum circle time! "Singing is a mandatory part of coming to the dinner parties," said David. Unless you're Kyle or Taylor who had enthusiastically started crooning some bars to "Amazing Grace." "You'll have to listen. Sshhh! You don't speak, you don't sing." Kim was totally on board with self-muzzling. "I can ruin Twinkle, Twinkle," she said. But Taylor looked completely put out and started talking smack into her wine glass, which I was sure she was going to spill on the white carpet. When Chris started playing "Danny Boy" she got squirmy and pissy. "Haven't I had enough sadness in the world?" Paul, ever a Housewife's Prince Charming, intervened, telling David that Taylor was having bad memories, could they play something a little more upbeat. Yolanda stared in disbelief at Paul and Taylor. Richard appeared in the corner, holding a kitchen knife but Yolanda backed him off with one raised hand. This party was over. Except for one quick Housewives train to "When the Saints Go Marching In."
It turned out we really didn't get to see the promised show-down between Adrienne and Lisa over blush wine. Instead, we saw Lisa putting hot rollers in her hair, an act that was strangely mesmerizing, while explaining to Ken the necessity of her at least meeting Adrienne for a drink. Otherwise, she explained, giving a brief, brilliant impression of Adrienne's nasal accent, she'd be blamed for not even trying. But the words "I'm sorry" better be Adrienne's opener, "otherwise this meeting will be as short as she is." At the restaurant, Lisa appeared from behind a seated Adrienne, her cape flowing in the restaurant's air conditioning. It was like Batman coming to meet the Joker.
Next week: Kim cries, Brandi tells Adrienne to stuff it.
Well, friends: How do you feel about Yolanda? Whither Brandi? (I blame her anxiety.) Is David Foster a harmless ham or kind of a prick? Should Taylor consider switching to water?