“This is a hard time of year for people who have feelings.” – Max
This week, I decided to give 2 Broke Girls another chance, mostly because everything I hold dear is on some tryptophan-induced hiatus.
Not cool, television. I know you think that the vast majority of Americans are going to be spending the rest of the week watching football, groaning in bloated agony, and committing some hivemind atrocity against a hapless Wal-Mart employee come Friday morning, and you might be right, television, but what about the rest of us who are anticipating the upcoming holiday with all the excitement of one destined to face the firing squad.
If nothing else, our last meal will be pretty awesome sauce. But now that we’re upon the eve of destruction, it’s time to think of witty answers to all of those pesky questions that are certain to come up:
Why aren’t you and that boy of yours married yet?
We like to make Jesus cry. His tears heal the sick. Our co-habitation is practically a public service.
Why don’t you have a real job yet?
I love eating ramen noodles and I hate having dignity.
How’s you mom?
Could you refill my…. you know what, I’ll just take the whole bottle. Thanks!
So, color me thrilled when not only is there a new episode of 2 Broke Girls this week, but it’s an episode that gets that very sentiment. At the beginning of the episode, Caroline is the very portrait of holiday cheer: perky, optimistic, nostalgic. She tells Max about how she and her father used to rent out the ballroom of the Waldorf-Astoria to feed homeless New Yorkers on Thanksgiving Day and gushes about how excited she is to visit her dad on Turkey Homicide Awareness Day. Max, who initially strolled down Caroline’s memory lane purely to mock it, is surprised that her formerly spoiled rich friend and her evil tax-evading daddy would do something so nice for other people.
Of course, she shouldn’t be so surprised, because so far, 2 Broke Girls has been very careful to balance Caroline’s privileged upbringing with utter sweetness and sincerity. I suspect that the majority of the demographic this show was aimed at was poised to dislike Caroline from the start. I know I was. Therefore, her snobby moments are largely played for laughs and she’s quick to laugh along with Max whenever her sheltered naivety leads to our conflict of the week.
That’s why its so awesome, and more than a little jarring, when she finally loses it this week.
After blowing up Max’s industrial mixer, Caroline applies for a job at a department store Santa Land to raise the money to replace it. Caroline is downright giddy and there are, of course, more saccharine memories from childhood. Both Max and Caroline end up with jobs as elves and convince Han to open up the diner to give free turkey dinners to the homeless on Thanksgiving. Blah blah blah it’s a wonderful life…. until Caroline’s dad calls and tells her not to visit on Thanksgiving.
Caroline is devastated and Max’s earlier jaded ramblings about Christmas being a holiday for rich people start hitting close to home. It doesn’t help that Max finds herself promoted to Mrs. Claus status, leaving Caroline to fend for herself with a line of excited children and one over-enthusiastic elf who loves her job a liiiiittle too much. Caroline starts telling the children the “truth” about Christmas and finds herself body-slammed into a holiday display right before making the big reveal to the waiting children: Santa isn’t real.
The ending seems a little too pat, with Caroline and Max both being fired and Max looking around the apartment listing things that Caroline should be thankful for: a job, a roof, a horse. Caroline seems a little quick to agree for someone who has just had everything she believes about the holiday season shaken to its core, but it’s the thought that counts, right? Kinda like that awkward sweater from your weird aunt that has the jingle bells on the sleeves, doesn’t fit quite right, and smells kinda like cat pee.
This review originally appeared on TV Geek Army.