Okay, okay, I get it—Larry’s “juicin’” (is this actually a legitimate term for taking Viagra?), and that upsets his girlfriend because they’re at the Baseball Hall of Fame. I still don’t quite buy it, and you have to admit it’s pretty shoehorned in (would a woman who’s so sexually charged that she’ll sleep with Larry Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and Rosie O’Donnell Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday really have a problem with one of her partners taking medication—especially when she reaps the benefits?), but it’s nice to know that Curb cares.
There’s a few parts of the story that don’t really fit (was there a point to Larry adamantly refusing to be friends with, uh, Dougenstein? If there was, I’ve already forgotten it)—and what’s up with Rosie O’Donnell’s tan?—but the humor more than makes up for any faults.
This is totally the “Larry in New York” episode I’ve been waiting for, and it gives me an appreciation for the sense of location with which the episode, and the series as a whole, has. I’ve been to New York, and while I’m no expert, there’s a vibe to it that Curb captured beautifully: the cramped feeling, the recycled red brick apartments, the semi-elegant trendiness. I probably won’t be able to score some V from a Charlton Heston lookalike getting his ear grazed on by a sexy blonde in the park, but it feels right.
