Something happened to me last weekend.
It’s called The Client List, and if you’re in the market for a new guilty pleasure, THIS is it.
Riley Parks (played by the eternally underrated Jennifer Love Hewitt) is a small town suburban mum whose life revolves around her husband, Kyle and their two preschool-aged kids.
Then one day (around 11 minutes into the first episode, to be exact), Kyle up and leaves with nothing but a note. Cue Riley falling to the ground in despair and job hunting to support her family. From there she ends up working at a ‘happy endings’ spa over an hour away from where she lives (not practical), and things start to unravel, and fall into place all at the same time.
Please note – this show is not new. In fact, it would be accurate to describe it as old. 2012 old.
“Oh yeah, I watched that show, like, four years ago,” a colleague took pleasure in telling me when I mentioned I’d just watched all of season one in 48 hours.
Good for you Keryn, but for those of us who are very, very slow on the uptake, the good news is there are 25 40-minute episodes to binge instead of going out and socialising with other humans.
Another note – The Client List is quite lame. It’s terrible, actually. But that’s what makes it the ultimate fluffy show to chuck on when you want to eat snacks and not think.
If you’re still not convinced, here are some of the reasons I was able to consume so many hours of The Client List in such a short period of time:
The problematic premise.
Fundamentally, this TV show is problematic.
Mainly because the entire plot surrounds how a mother-of-two gets into prostitution to keep her family afloat after her husband walks out. It's the logical thing to do, right? NO.
It's almost so unreasonable, so unlikely, that choosing to work at a spa called The Rub that provides hand jobs and back massages with seven-inch heels still somehow makes more sense as the episode goes on.
The Rub is also set in a town called Sugar Land. It wasn't until literally two seconds ago that I realised Sugar Land is an actual real-life town in Texas, and not a euphemism.