Maybe it’s because we just wrote about the Drapers (as they compare to Marge and Homer Simpson) for Vulture and so I have Betty on the brain, but this feels ice-cold and dramatic in a very Mad Men vein.
This woman is out for revenge. But not the martini-flinging kind; no, she’s going to cut you with the jagged, icy scrape of her words, her ennui, and her general disinterest in your base manly expectations. “I’m going out for a Manhattan and surf and turf. You want dinner? Fine, you scavenging cad. Here’s the number for Edith on the third floor. She’s always making pot roast and she’s 85 so GOOD LUCK.”