Part 1 of Season 2, Episode 27: Mexican Standoff - I Mexican't stand where this is headed.

Two years later and even less people read blogs.  Eh: The Squeakquel.

Sigh.  Thus kicks off the beginning of the end for Our Brenda and Dylan.  Actually, I'd venture to say that the beginning of Brenda's end was the day she met one Kelly "Lady Judas" Taylor, but that's neither here nor there.  We also get a bunch of Silver/Taylor Wedding of the Century planning shenanigans (plananigans?) in this one, and Jake Hanson is introduced to backdoor-pilot us into the (terrible-until-Heather-Locklear-saves-the-day) first season of Melrose Place, in addition to becoming the Taylors' Jack (Jake?) of All Trades, as well as showing us his whole, deviant ass as a seducer of the underage.  Here we go.

Dylan's Non-Craftsman.

Inside, we get a shot of, like, a FUCK TON of books, because apparently Brenda and Dylan are majoring in advanced-advanced-placement collegiate-level bio-molecular thermodynamics with a minor in encyclopedia-reading.  Which is totally a thing.

After a horndog pan-up of Brenda's and Dylan's intertwined, Levi's-clad legs (reminiscent of their roll-on-the-chaise in "My Desperate Valentine"), Brenda pulls away and asks, "You know what I'd really like?" To fuck? Because: I can't imagine that these two, who've already Done The Do, would be just dry-humping, fully-clothed-and-scrunchied, on the couch.  I'm not trying to be icky, but, c'mon.  They've presumably been sexually active for almost a year.  I would imagine this would accelerate pretty quickly.  I was in high school once upon a really long time ago and I...heard things from other people because I was an exceptionally late bloomer who didn't have her first boyfriend until her Senior year.  ANYWAY, she tells him, "What I really wish is that I didn't have to go home so early."

Dylan advises her to just "forget her curfew," and baby boy? Brenda's not Brandon.  She can't get away with things like he can.  Things like, say, DRUNK DRIVING, and ALMOST KILLING A MAN, and being a complete smarm douche who, over the ten-plus (!) years (dear gawd) this travesty has been on the internet, has probably contributed to this blogger's chronic migraines and debilitating TMJ issues.  Which is basically what she tells him.

He then throws Lower California some free advertising, again, some more, ALWAYS, and asks, "What about Baja?" Brenda repeats, "What about Baja?" in another throwaway line that I say, aloud, whenever the subject of Mexico comes up, forever and ever amen.  Dylan is OF COURSE planning a trip there the following weekend and wants her to come with.  Her: "My fuckface dad [I'm paraphrasing] won't let me." Him: "It doesn't hurt to ask, and I'm sure Brandon will stick his beak in for good measure, too [again: paraphrasing]."

She decides to forgo her curfew at Dylan's suggestion and instead bump-and-grind a hole in the crotch of her ill-fitting jeans, because that will absolutely end well and not kick off this entire, irritating saga wherein her father throws his sad little certified public accountant-weight around and holds Brenda to a wholly different standard because she has a vagina.

Brenda eventually creeps into the Foyer of Walsh...

...only to be busted by The Dreaded Jim "Tony  Soprano Wouldn't be Caught Dead Shuffling Around in a Hooded Cerulean Robe DORK" Walsh.  I wonder where he was the night Brandon was rolling on U4EA and menacing society and exposing his nips all over the place? Oh, that's right: he was fast asleep in bed, completely oblivious to his son's debauchery and crimes against the eyes/humanity.

They then have a relatively tame mano-a-dildo face-off where Jim attempts to go Full Butch and put his foot down, and Brenda tries and fails to convince him that she shouldn't have a curfew.  "I don't ask that much of you" and "I always do the right thing, don't I?" gets thrown in for foreshadowing's sake.  Whatever.

Next whenever.

Inside.  These looks! So good, especially Donna's.  They discuss their bridesmaids dresses (note to Jackie: fuck, get some friends your own age.  Who aren't drug addicts.  Or dealers.  Cindy's a gem!)  Actually, Donna discusses their bridesmaid dresses and Kelly makes snide remarks.  Donna: [Y]our mom's getting married and you act like you don't even care." Kelly: "That's very observant of you, Donna."  Pretty sure Kelly's been down this coke-sprinkled road a time or two or five, Don.

DJ Funky Fresh David "Ninja Rap" Silver comes barreling up behind the girls and, to Kelly, advises, "I got your mom and my dad the hottest wedding present ever." Why would any human or subhuman (which David most certainly is) describe a wedding gift to their parent/s (or anyone else for that matter) as "hot"? Anyway, he bought them a pair of diamond earrings, one stud for each, and after Donna points out that Mel doesn't have his ear pierced (though I'd bet anything there's a Prince Albert situation going on in his trousers), David explains that, "He doesn't now, but he will.  That's the idea." I guess this is what passed as "hip and edgy" in 1992.

After Kelly flounces off with a "I think if I hear one more thing about this wedding, I'm gonna scream," David asks, "What's her problem?" Look in a mirror, dear, and you'll have at least part of the answer.

We head over to Brenda and Dylan at her locker, standing before a man with Very 90s Hair.  Dylan presses her about Baja.

Terrible Friend approaches and starts in about some weekend plans she and Brenda apparently made, but Brenda cuts her off: "Maybe we can do it another time." Per usual, Kelly makes everything All About Kelly and whines, "I don't think I can make it through another weekend of listening to the bride and groom trying to decide whether to serve chicken or fish." Shouldn't these details have already been decided upon? Given that the wedding is a few weeks away? I would assume the only thing left is for Mel to finally convince Jackie to have the reception theme be "Key Party" and/or "Eyes Wide Shut Masked Orgy."

After Dylan tells Kelly that Jim and Cindy's permission has yet to be granted and kisses Brenda adieu, Kelly smirks and asks, "In that case, what video should we rent?" Brenda seems to think her parents can be convinced and asks Kelly if it's okay for her to bail on their movie night.  Kelly gets her cunt on and says, "Yeah, I mind.  I don't see why you'd want to go and spend an incredibly cool and romantic weekend with your boyfriend when you could stay here in town and be miserable with me." Brenda doesn't take her frenemy's self-pitying bait and perks, "Thanks, Kel, I knew you'd understand," and then leaves Kelly to Pout 'n Plot her imminent betrayal of Brenda.

Here.

Inside, Dylan and Brenda put the finishing touches on their plan to ask the Parents' Walsh about Baja and fucking GET ON WITH IT.  I'm sure Child Me was all, oooo, this is so tense, but Adult (read: Crone) Me is like, please move this the fuck along THIS IS DUMB just ASK.

Fucking Twerp of the MILLENIA shows up to, as aforementioned, stick his beak in where it doesn't belong, inquiring, "Hey, what's goin' on? What's all the secrecy?" Get all the way bent, Brandon.

Eventually, Cindy and Jim in his Gordon Gekko cosplay show up, asking about Brenda's weekend plans with Kelly; Brenda informs them that she's not going to be spending the weekend with Kelly, as Dylan has invited her to join him in Baja, and Jim incredulously repeats, "Baja?" and SHUT THE FUCK UP BRANDON chimes in with, "As in Mexico?" and I hate him, I hate him so hard.

After telling Brandon to launch himself into space, Brenda goes into the logistics of the trip (it's only for a day and a half; leaving Saturday morning; back Sunday night) and when Jim begins to protest, she in turn protests with, "Dad, come on! I mean, you let me go to Yosemite!" Please: don't remind us of that terrible episode, Brenda.

I mean, really.

Jim claims Yosemite was different (as Brandon stands there with perhaps his most punchable face YET, and believe: that is a FEAT), saying, "That time, you were with your brother and the rest of the gang.  Now you're talking about running off to a foreign country with your boyfriend," which, nice spin on the narrative, douche.  Also, Jimbo: pretty certain Brenda and Dylan could've easily snuck away to knock boots during that trip, if only to get a few minutes reprieve from Steve and the manged Bichon Frise sitting atop his head.

   

Cindy's spine manages to make a late-game comeback and says, "Let me and Dad talk about it," as she drags her dweeb husband into the kitchen and tells him Brenda's 17; it's not exactly a big deal; they should let her go; that he should get the fuck over himself; and that she regrets not opting for Glen and His L.A.  Except actually just the part about letting Brenda go.

Cut to: I'm bored.  Dylan tells Jim about the guest house, i.e. motel, where he stays while in Baja (La Boca Grande; English translation: the big mouth.  I don't know) and that he'll take good care of Brenda during their stay, because he knows playing up the Savior Complex will score points with Jim and his flagrant misogyny.  Jim replies with a gross and sarcastic, "I'm sure you will." Finally, FINALLY, after several eons of continents' drifting, Father Walsh relents and says, "I wanna call Dr. Pollack, make sure you don't need shots," because WHAT.  Again, I know this was 1992, and people were less-informed, but Jim, please, I beg of you: expand your horizons beyond obsessing over contrast-collar shirts, your daughter's sex life, and your casual xenophobia.

The only part I care at all about is that this decision sends Brandon and his sad little forelock into a complete tailspin.  Scandalized, he demands, "Wait a minute! You guys are actually gonna let her go?!!?" Dear Brandon: eat several panes of glass.  Very Truly Yours, All Mortals as Well as a Good Chunk of the Recently Unearthed A.L.F.s and Most Animal, Amphibian and Insect Species.

 

But first! Dylan must teach Brenda how to surf.  Because that totally seems like something that could be accomplished in a few days' time.  Some Saved by the Bell-esque surf tune plays us over to the beach...

...but there's a real womp-womp pall cast over the festivities when we see this sign and Dylan's voice exclaims, "Would you look at that? The beach is closed again because of bacteria in the bay!" which he says while looking like this:

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAhsahhahah.  These MEGA DORKS and their MEGA DORK beach gear will have to wait another day for their lessons to begin.

They're stopped in their tracks as they head back to the Speedster when this motorcycle rumbles past them (Emily???) to unnecessarily take up two parking spots like the pig parker they clearly are.  Dylan takes off his sunglasses and says, "I don't believe it," and Brenda asks, "Who is he?"

"He" is The (35 Year Old) Man, The Myth, The Non-Legend: Jake Hanson, who proceeds to whip off his helmet and flip his head and hair back like he's the star of some 1984 Jordache Jeans commercial or something.  Dylan answers Brenda's query really awkwardly with, "The guy that taught me how to surf [pause] [pause] [pause] [pause?]...Jake."

Additional awkwardness ensues as he adorably dork-jogs over to Jake and his admittedly fantastic sunglasses.  Riddle me this: is Jake there to surf? Or just park like an asshole? Because I'm not seeing a board strapped to that hog (blech), nor do I understand how that is even a possibility.

I stand corrected.  Although there isn't one attached to Jake's bike, so I can only assume heading to the beach on a late-April day, clad in a leather jacket, tight jeans and moto-boots is his idea of a good time.  Mimbo, thy name is Hanson.

They then awkwardly catch up (this episode sponsored by Awkwardness™, apparently), because trying to shoe-horn in a came-out-of-nowhere character whom we've never heard of before nor will ever hear from again, and therefore in whom we have zero vested interest, just for the purpose of expeditiously introducing them to audiences as their Potential New Favorite in a forthcoming and probably doomed spinoff (though MP, of course, was an exception; the best example of this is the unfortunately-christened character of Will Krudski on Dawson's Creek, who shows up for a few-episode arc in Season 3 as some theretofore never-mentioned long lost friend of Pacey's who was being spun-off on an ill-fated show no one remembers called Young Americans) rarely works. To wit, Dylan: "So, I heard you were livin' up in Seattle or somethin'?" Jake: "Eugene.  I've been back a year now." Riveting stuff.  Dylan then asks, "What, you didn't call me?" and I say, "No, because he's 35.  And hanging out with literal children would be a felony."

But Jake did try to call him! Because as we'll soon see, Jake throws a good deal of caution to the wind when it comes to associating with minors.  Apparently Dylan's phone was disconnected when Jake attempted to reach out, which is Dylan's cue to advise him in the key of Poor Little Rich Boy Cloaked in a Sad Sack, "Yeah, I moved.  A few times." Jake replies to this with a non-witty non-joke about the elder McKay: "Yeah, I hear your old man's been doing a lot of reading lately." An imprisoned father with a side of child neglect? The height of comedy!

Brenda approaches.  Dylan has no manners and fails to introduce her, and since Jake has no social skills rolling around that pretty little head of his, his opener is a wooden, "So, are you a surfer?" They discuss the bacteria in the water, the mistreatment of the ocean (because the planet's been in a high-speed come-apart for a long-ass while now), and of course, Baja.  Jake finally introduces his socially graceless self, to which Brenda responds in kind, adding, "Dylan told me that you taught him how to surf."

Dylan lists his friend's credits: "How to surf, how to ride a motorcycle," with Jake adding, "How to pick up girls, how to be a total cliché," except that I added that last one.  Dylan asks where Jake's been living and he says, "Just a little place off Melrose, nothin' special," and excuse me, good sir...

...but are you referring to this "nothin' special"? The fuck? Because my entire LA existence has been a desperate search to find and reside in places similar to this apartment complex, all because I fell in love with it (meaning, a set from a television show; but they do exist! Sans pool, my current home gives off similar vibez) when I was 12 years old.  BUT I DIGRESS.

The digression continues: can we also talk about 12 year old-in-suburban-Denver me being SO GEEKED for this show about 20-somethings in Los Angeles? However hackneyed Jake's introduction into the BH90210-verse, the marketing people did a great job sparking interest in their new show.  Between the Summer of Deception and this, for real, what a summer it was.  And while the actual show left much to be desired during most of Season 1, the opening credits were on-point from the jump; classiqué.  And Josie Bissett-as-Jane Mancini's hair, striped shirt, EVERYTHING? Unparalleled to this day.

Blah blah Brenda and Dylan invite Jake to WHERE ELSE the Peach Pit for dinner; Jake reasonably expresses disbelief that it's actually still in business (given the probable rodent infestation combined with Nat's complete absence of business acumen + the ability to make everyone around him really uncomfortable) but agrees to meet them later that night. 

Rockabilly-adjacent dreck takes us here.

Inside at the counter, these three discuss the fact that Brandon is, in fact, The Worst, and was of no help in convincing Jim and Cindy to allow Brenda to go on her trip, and actually actively campaigned against it with his wee little outburst.  Vaguely racist Spanish accents follow and it's pretty gross.

Eavesdropping (because you know she absolutely was) from a few stools away, AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea, in a toddler's favorite first crisp day of fall cardigan, overhears the conversation and goes ALL THE WAY IN on Desperation, population: The Zuck: "You guys are going to Mexico? I've always wanted to go to Mexico, especially Baja.  In fact, you know what'd be really great? If we all went, you know, like Yosemite.  I mean, the food's not supposed to cost much and if we're careful, there's no reason to get sick.  I hear the hotels are really cheap.  We could caravan, it would be fun! It'd be like a real adventure, don't you think?" Never a fan of telling a woman to "calm down," I'm afraid I'm going to have to advise this complete and utter chore of an individual to take several breaths and CALM THE FUCK DOWN.  She's practically panting.

These two look at AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea like we all look at AHHHHHHHHNdrea and Dylan shuts her down with a very concise, "No." Brenda explains, "Dylan and I are trying to keep this trip romantic, and since you're the dictionary definition of a libido-smothering killjoy, that's a hard, hard pass from us." Only nicer.

Over in the the corner booth, Steve opens his wedding invitation (for a ceremony no more than a fortnight away) and grouses about not having a plus-one.  David tells him that they're trying to keep the numbers down, and then Steve gets a rude-but-not-untrue jab in about David telling Mel to travel light: "Seems like Kelly's mom likes weddings more than she does marriages." Steve really said, "Did I lieeeeeee?"  Donna proclaims that Jackie has changed a lot, and David adds, "I hope so.  I don't know if my dad could handle another divorce," and I guess Mel better not stick his dick into some random dental hygienist, oh, wait, look there, he just did.

Just then, Stud Studly swaggers on in and Fonzies, "Yo, Nat!"

From behind the counter, Nat swivels around and...

...poor Jake.  But I guess the familiarity this embrace supposedly invokes is proof positive that he does indeed have A History 'round these parts.  Whatever.  Oh, and Nat predictably demonstrates his non-business non-savvy once more by joking about Jake settling his unpaid tab.  That Nat: a true titan of the restaurant industry!

 

Brenda and Dylan then lead Jake over to the corner table, beckoning AHHHHHHHHNdrea (why?) to join them, and as she follows behind she sort of gives Jake this lustiful horndog once-over and yeah, AHHHHHHHNdrea, you're both 35.  But I'm pretty sure that's where the similarities end, so, settle down, San Gabriel Sally.

At the table, AHHHHHHHNdrea puts on her West Beverly Hills Fucking BLAZE Investigative Journalist cap (which she actually never takes the fuck off) and initiates her grand inquisition of Jake: "What kind of work do you do?" He proceeds to make a mondo-lame joke about having run a big oil company and being a real estate developer who built a bunch of hotels in Oahu and truly no one laughs and I guess we can scratch "not just another pretty face" off of our tertiary character notes for ol' Jake Hanson.  The non-hilarity goes on for a bit before David asks him, "How are you at painting houses?" Jake responds, "Better than Rembrandt," because Rembrandt absolutely painted houses.  I'm a certified moron, and lazy, so I don't know for certain and I'm not going to look it up, but I'm pretty sure this Dutchy Golden Age dude wasn't picking up extra guilders with his side-hustle of lacquering windmills in his 1600s heyday.  In conclusion: shut up, Jake.

David explains that the job is for Jackie, that "she's really desperate."  Oh, we're well aware of that fact, believe you me.  Also: David is in charge of hiring laborers for his soon-to-be stepmom? Why not!

Then Brenda, giving us a glimpse of her very cute ensemble, and Dylan bounce, to head back to his for a viewing of The Grapes of Wrath, in lieu of Brenda actually reading the book for a school assignment.  A depressing movie set during the Great Depression sounds like a scream compared to being in the company of AHHHHHHHNdrea Zuckerman, Field Reporter, for more than a few minutes, so I don't blame them for skedaddling toot sweet.

 

Back here.

We pan down from a tv showing a billowing American flag and the "Star-Spangled Banner" playing, to these two nincompoops, sawing logs on the couch.  Way to go, fools!  I realize it wasn't as easy as simply setting an alarm on your cell phone at the time, but way to hand Jim an easy "W," you fucking doofuses.  

Dylan rouses, wakes Brenda, it's four (!) in the morning, she's blames him, "come on, let's go, we gotta get outta here!"

Déjà vu.

So close.  She manages to make it allllllll the way to her bedroom door (though I would've parked it on the couch and lied and said I got home at curfew and nodded off there) before Jim, in his azureous Anti-Tony Soprano robe, confronts her with, "Do you know what time it is? Do you know how worried your mother and I were?" Apparently not too worried because 1) you didn't call over to Dylan's, or drive by, which you easily could've done, and 2) Cindy's nowhere to be found.  So stow it, Large Guy.

Grumpy Gus, looking like he just got finished with his first Big Boy Bath in that fucking ROBUST robe - there just seems to be SO MUCH of it, especially with that hood and button? flap? tab? like, is it in fact a terry-cloth trench coat? - proceeds to reprimand his daughter, all, "You think I make rules just so you can ignore them? How do you expect me to treat you like an adult when you act like a child? If I can't trust you to toe the line when you're at home, how can I trust you when you're on your own in Mexico?" and employing one of his favorite tactics: not letting the other person - usually a woman, usually Brenda - get a word in edgewise.  He finally brings down the hammer one last time with, "You can forget about Mexico.  You just blew it." You know what actually blows? Everything about Jim.

DOOM Synth plays as Jim turns on his heel and walks away, leaving the camera to zoom in on Devastation, population: Brenda.  Which is hopefully nowhere near Desperation, population: The Zuck.

Part 2 coming soon!