There are so many things wrong with the poolhouse
tryst between Gloria and Alistair I barely know
where to begin. Let us forget, for a moment, the
absurdity of Gloria living in the poolhouse to begin
with. It's not as if her son and daughter in law
can't afford to set her up in her own condo
somewhere, given that Michael is an attorney whose
main clients are billionaires, and Lauren owns a
chain of department stores that seem to be on par
with Macy's or Bloomingdales. Nor is it the case
that they refuse to do so because they want nothing
to do with her when they are constantly at her
beckon call and getting her out of her latest
scrapes and giving her a job.
If the Abbott house is in fact such a "mansion" as
it is constantly referred to , then it seems
unlikely that Jack and Sharon would have heard
Gloria and Alistair down by the pool in the first
place. Certainly no one in the Abbott household was
disrupted when a whole slew of teenagers lived there
for a summer while Jabot filmed their tedious antics
for their website. And I'm hella sure that four or
five teenagers are way louder than two drunken old
people.
Furthermore, it wasn't so very long ago that Jack
himself had a naked romp in the pool with Jill and
he sure as hell didn't give a damn what anyone up in
the main house thought about it, including his
father who was still alive at the time. He's the one
who invited Gloria to live in the poolhouse to begin
with so I don't know where he gets off calling
Michael to complain about her being there. And
finally, if "drinking and swimming don't mix," as
Michael claimed to Gloria afterwards, then why in
the hell is there a fully stocked bar in the
poolhouse?
To cap it all off, Jack and Sharon called it a night
by having sex in the living room in front of the
glass front door and the bay windows despite the
fact that Gloria and half the rest of the town seems
to wander through their house at any given hour of
the day or night. So pot? Meet kettle.
And I got a good laugh out of Sharon being so aghast
by the fact that Gloria cut some of "her Irises" in
a feeble attempt at a peace offering. Her Irises?
Like Sharon plants Irises? Sure. How many times have
we seen Sharon toiling away in her garden tending to
her precious flowers? Oh, that's right. Never. On
the evolutionary scale, Sharon is little more than a
plant herself. And even if she had planted them, it
looked like there were only about five or six of
them in that basket. Is that all she planted?
I think it's past time for Jerry Douglas to make
good on his word and finally retire. Between
Alistair and the ghost of John we've seen more of
him since John died than we did in the final five
years of his life. Let's face it, he wasn't all that
interesting to begin with. And I fail to see what
comfort his presence brings to Jack with the idea
that he's watching over him even when Jack doesn't
know it. Really? Was he peeping while Jack and
Sharon had semi-public sex the night before in the
living room? That's the problem with ghosts, they
have even fewer boundaries than Gloria.
As for Gloria, while her incompetence is beginning
to rival that of Gilligan, I'm going to have to give
her a pass on spilling coffee on Jill. Anyone who
asks someone to bring them coffee after that very
same person only days before spiked their coffee
with hot sauce deserves whatever they get. It's like
Lizzie Borden's parents asking her to go fetch them
the ax again.
Father's Day in Genoa City has never known more
dysfunction. Not one of the fathers in attendance
actually raised their child. Victor raised none of
his children, nor did Neil, nor did Paul. Nor did
Jack, whose children are nowhere to be seen these
days, and Nick's children are either dead or away at
camp. What an awkward holiday this must be for them
all. Hallmark would be scrambling to come up with a
card for these guys.
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