90 Day Fiancé S09E10 Recap : Marriage Business
Emily and Kobe are on a ham-knuckle journey into the heart of the great I- Guess, to marvel over tornado-alley tourist destinations that haven’t blown away.
“Rock City, here we come!” Emily sings as they arrive at a tomb for sandstone boulders. Kobe looks around for the Motown walkway.
Emily and Kobe
“I thought by Rock City, she meant Detroit,” Kobe has never felt so alone.
Kobe is still grateful to be out of the house, which is a prison where he’s regularly forced to listen to economic advice from someone who signed for his arrival and hasn’t searched for a job in 30 years.
“Legally unable to work? That doesn’t sound right to me,” Emily’s dad is not going to look this up.
Rock City offers options for Kansas locals looking to get all #relationshipgoals on THE GRAM, and Emily directs Kobe to a sandstone donut worn as a reminder that the weight of the world is on your lower back.
“Why do we need the same picture as millions of other people?” Kobe squeezes into the rock.
“This photo looks so good on Unsolved Mysteries!” Emily can’t believe it.
Emily races off to meet up with her sister, mom, and grandmother, so she can try on dresses and declare #2 the winner.
The sales person knows Emily’s a bulldozer, and all she has to do is put progressively more expensive accessories on her and stay out of the way until the credit card clears. The first dress requires Emily to consult her titty-committee to see if they’re up to the task. The second would look great with a perm and Whitney Houston, and Emily is sold.
“Plus I can pull out one boob at a time with this one. Options!”
Emily’s dress is $975, which sounds great to the person who isn’t paying, and thankfully no one else has a will. Mom struggles to rise above her muted “well” to suggest Emily might want to know Kobe more prior to their wedding, which reminds Emily of her ring.
“Look at this ring I bought myself!” Emily shares. “Now I can marry me!”
“Did you really just buy your own ring?” Emily’s sister wants a DNA test.“What are you going to do if he buys a second one? Why are you such an asshole?”
“It’s a karat!” Emily swears someone else is talking, which is, like, so stupid.
Jibri and Miona
Jibri would like you to know his location by his head ornament, and this giddyup yeehaw chinstrap-hat says South Dakota, where a rodeo clown can therapist. He’s upset that his time in Chicago was spent talking about Miona behind her back, when he could have been talking about Miona inside a recording studio.
“She’s really in the way when she’s not around,” Jibri frets.
Mahala and David have also been thinking a lot about how to avoid empathizing with Miona, so they invite Jibri out for a clandestine coffee meeting.
“I know,” Jibri throws Miona under the bus at go, and invites additional buses to line up behind it. “We’re having a beach wedding. That one thing she wanted, that she’s always wanted since she was a little girl.”
“I thought she agreed to not want things?” Mahala, empath, never- controlling. “YOU JUST DON’T SEEM HAPPY!”
“I know,” Jibri shakes is head. “I wouldn’t be getting married right now except I’m already married.”
David is comfortable with Jibri’s indifference to Miona’s happiness, but he’s caught off guard by this wedding nonsense.
“Really?” Camera 1 is thinking about walking.“What the fuck is the show’s name, David?”
“We couldn’t possibly adjust our schedules or request time off for a minor event like a wedding,” David has never been inconvenienced by Jibri’s organizational skills.
“So wait, you’re not coming?” Jibri is shocked.
“You’re so stupid,” Yara knows when she’s needed.
“It pains me to say, but part of why he stays with this marriage plan is that he’s thinking about Miona,” Mahala taught her child to be selfish. “Thinking of others isn’t healthy for a marriage.”
Jibri picks up Miona and takes her to a park to talk, and she’s confused by his recent behavior, since it seems like he gets together with people outside of their relationship to invent problems she’s then expected to explain. Jibri thinks this might be true, but he also cherishes advice when it helps him get out of events he doesn’t want to attend.
Miona reminds Jibri that his parents have been flinging shit and calling it flowers from day one, and Jibri is suddenly struck by amnesia.
“Your parents get in your head like you’re fifteen. You’re almost 30,” Miona reminds Jibri that no one is going to believe they applied for a K1 twice.
“The way this is going, I’ll get married to the music and the art,” Jibri, reporting for cliche.
“Oh! You can buy your own ring!” Emily helps.
“Please,” Miona’s not having it. “Art is seeing other people. The last time you proposed, Music said no and changed her phone number, because she only comes to Rapid City to put on pink boots and die.”
“But problems,” Jibri scowls, and hopes people get the part where the unhappiness happened.
Patrick and Thais
Patrick’s legacy of lying prevents him from confessing that his wallet has thinned down to discomfort, so instead he berates Thais for “wasteful” ideas like decorating.
“This is better,” Patrick needs a therapist.
“I can help.” Put your hand down, Mahala.
“Can anyone see me?” the paint store is sad, and a great therapist.
Inside the store Patrick says this adventure is more window-shopping than buying stuff, and the plan is for him to get an idea of what she likes without actually allowing her to choose.
“I’ll pick something that’s slightly like that later, and will pretend it’s a gift,” Patrick’s been written before.
Decorating on a budget is easy enough, and can be accomplished with assistance from Etsy, a street fair, and your friend Sherwin Williams.
“We’re going with total dismissal,” Patrick is why we need art in schools.
A salesperson observes Thais getting shut down again and again, and approaches to ask if they’d like directions to Target. Patrick says he’ll never get to declare it impossible if he goes somewhere affordable (hi, Kara), so the salesperson suggests a fluffy pillow in Patrick’s Gandalf the Grey color palette. He balks at the $180 price tag, which leads our hero to suggest the vase they keep in stock for people like Patrick.
“You know a lot of people repaint old furniture…” the salesperson just wants to try.
“Did someone say my name?” the paint store rubs the lead from its eyes.
“None of it matters and she spends all my money.” Thais is meeting the guy Patrick saves for special occasions.
Thais tells Patrick that she’s angry because she doesn’t understand the point of what they just did, and it seems like he wants to control everything with no input from her. She asks for details about their finances, which is kind of important when you’re completely financially dependent on someone you’re about to marry. Patrick thinks this is bullshit, since his Olympics’ ban and cheating history alone indicate she should just trust him when he says they’re fine.
“I’m the one making the money for the two of us, so I’m going to have a bigger say in how it’s spent,” Patrick refuses to listen. He throws cash and a credit card at Thais and tells her to go buy a painting. Thais declares herself done with this conversation, and says her father was right when he said American men just think they can buy Brazilian women.
When Thais emerges Patrick repeats that she should just take his card, and she asserts he’s missing the point. She doesn’t want to be kept in the dark, she wants him to share the truth with her and understand they’re partners, which Patrick takes as his cue to watch TV.
Shaeeda and Bilal
Shaeeda and Bilal are in the ATL, which Bilal informs us is where “the player’s dwell” to explain his Missouri zipcode. They’re visiting his sister Nefertari, who takes Shaeeda to a wedding dress shop. Shaeeda tries a body-shaping gown draped to accommodate her hijab, and she’s happy, and could model these for a living. Nefertari asks how the relationship is going, and Shaeeda answers honestly.
“_Honey, we thought the poverty prank was funny. What are you doing?_” Nefertari is lost.
“_I’m very desperate for a confidant,_” Shaeeda pleads. “Tell me you’ve noticed your brother determines my worth by a point system.”
“_I’ve never seen that side of him,_” Nefertari shakes her head.
“_I had no idea you were blind,_” Shaeeda should have been more sensitive.
Shaeeda goes on to say she doesn’t want to move forward with Bilal if he doesn’t want more kids.
“_She should just pause her biological clock until her fertile years expire,” Nefertari Bilals. “I don’t know what to think. She’s been engaged twice before, so is Bilal just going to be the third?_”
“_She should be on her third marriage instead,_” Bilal calls from the kingdom of twice-divorced.
Romantic dates are how Bilal reminds Shaeeda he’s dangerous, so he’s excited to take her on a private ride on a glass-bottom ferris wheel, to terrify her into signing a prenup.
“_Glass? That means I can’t escape,_” Shaeeda knows some bullshit is coming.
“_Hey! Brainstorm! Here’s something that will comfort your fear of heights,” Bilal keeps on task. “Marriage is a business…_”
“Great,” Shaeeda supports this. “Would you like to form an LLC so I’m protected when we dissolve the company?”
“_I was thinking more like a sole proprietership,_” Bilal wishes she would focus.
Shaeeda says that when he mentioned the prenup before she adamently refused, and he dropped it, but Bilal says she should know by now that he’s not listening. She calls him out for creating this scene to pressure her, and making her motion-sick so she can’t read the document he dangled from his phone. Bilal insists that he didn’t mean to bring it up, she just looked so scared, and that turned him on.
Next up on the romantic transportation to-do list is a carriage ride, and once the horses start galloping Shaeeda recovers her stomach and requests to read the prenup.
“_I was just about to serenade you,_” Bilal will sell this house today.
After reading through, Shaeeda says it doesn’t mention anything about taking care of her and their future children if things fall apart, because it’s all about him protecting himself. Bilal plays dumb and wonders what she means by “our” children, and she insists she means the children he’s agreed to have with her. Bilal finds this weird, since he doesn’t plan to have anymore children, but she should trust him.
“I’m not the one who keeps bringing up trust,” Bilal’s self-awareness score is just lint and a gum wrapper. “_When she doesn’t want to sign it, it’s like…what are your alternative motives?_”
“_Oh, we’re using that,_” the editors hate this guy.
“_Does he mean ulterior?_” Shaeeda can’t do this.
“_If you ask, I’ll say I meant alternative,_” Bilal stays right.
Ari and Biniyam
Ari and Biniyam assemble of red leather couches that would give Thais the spins, to discuss the type of decorating you can accomplish with a part-time social media job.
“All this weight, of like, things, is on me,” Ari points out the couches are for fainting.
Biniyam brings up his right to roll around with MMA ladies, and Ari says that she feels like their relationship comes second to Biniyam’s interests.
“I do not understand this,” Biniyam is lost. “First it is like ambition, and then it is my son. Then my sisters, then my friends, then Dancey Dancey. I feel like there is something I forget, but then Ari is after that I think.”
“Yeah, like second,” Ari turns her hearing aid out of truth range, while requesting the truth even if she gets mad.
“_LOOK AT ME, LENS FRIENDS!_” Avi shouts at the camera, imitating his parents’ argument style in more coherent babble.
Later on it’s fight night for Biniyam, which Ari knows demands another twirl in the old tapdancing costume. Janice is on hand as the only nurse in the world, to express concern about the state of the ambulance and the chance of a head injury, and whether that might inspire Biniyam to become a doctor.
“_Are you guys going to prom after this?_” Janice likes the look. “Let me get a picture before you go! Biniyam, did you bring a corsage?”
They take their seats, and Biniyam walks out onto the floor like ESPN has a microphone in his face. While he spins and holds up his flag, someone in impressive Angela cosplay does a hoppity-cotton-eye-joe while lassoing his entrance with her phone.
“_You’re welcome!_” Angela Cosplay outdid herself.
Biniyam’s opponent is 45 year-old accountant Benjamin Merkelstan, who won a gift certificate at the office potluck for three Saturdays of training, followed by a fun feature match against a similarly skilled opponent.
“_It was billed as a confidence booster,” Ben finds their marketing lacking. “That dude has been doing this since his last marriage._”
“_Come on Ben, you fucking dick! Get your ass kicked!_” John shouts from the stands, and Ben is going to change his tax exemptions to reflect his dink of a brother, and then they can both get fucked all the way up HR mountain.
“_Monday is going to be a work-from-home day,_” Benjamin should have known that gift certificate was bullshit.
Bell goes ding, and Biniyam Power Rangers into the air in the direction of Ben’s head.
“_Oh for fu**s sake!” Ben runs.
“Look at me!” That’s Biniyam.
“_Oh! And me!_” Ari tries theatrically afraid.
“Is anyone afraid for me?!” Ben screams, and we are so there for you Ben.
Thirty seconds later Biniyam wins, and nearly backflips into a ref, who tells him to gather his weird-ass entourage and get the fuck out the cage.
“_I feel very confident in Biniyam’s ability to make a deposit on a comprehensive training package,_” the MMA coach is putting in an in-ground pool. “I’m seeing all kinds of incomprehensible fees.”
Now that this one is in the books, Ari is hoping that means Biniyam’s focus is back on her and Avi.
“_I thought we already were talking about priority, and you were like seven I think,_” Biniyam promised her the truth.
“_So, like, second?_” Ari promises to ignore it.
Last week Kara and Guillermo decided the surgery was a success, and now they’re free to do things without the other. Guillermo gets busy studying the washer and dryer, while Kara disappears to see about a man with a mustache who will tell her that she’s bullshit.
“_I thought you were going to do Below Deck,_” Mustache says. “_You were going to be chief stew and he was gonna be a deckie. Did they already have a Hannah?_”
“_With Below Deck, you get, what, one season, maybe two?_” Kara explains. “We’re going to retire off this.”
“_I don’t know, they have a LOT of basic white women without jobs. And Emily is like the gold standard,_” Mustache reads Kara for a living.
“_Oh my God, thank you!_” Emily knows to take the compliment.
“And babies? Shut up, Kara. Shut up and fucking die.”
“But I have Chris, bro,” Kara’s not without cards. “Two words: Guest vocalist.”
NEXT TIME: Emily has three rings to rule them all, Leandro has hair and Biniyam doesn’t, entitled milennial Jibri calls someone else by his name, Thais plots a Vegas wedding that sounds an awful lot like not Patrick’s idea, Mohammad would like Yve to cut his food into smaller pieces and for her to be a better Muslim, and Shaeeda wants to talk to Bilal’s lawyer so they can take this man down together.
Thank you, !