Meanwhile, in the thriving metropolis of Bon Temps, Merlotte’s Bar is kept busy by a new account with Pond’s cold cream and preparations for the staff Christmas party. Though he is the bar’s namesake, Sam is quickly losing his authority at the establishment and in his personal life. We see his self-destruction manifested as he drinks himself into a stupor and makes several drunken passes at various women. Eventually he lures his new hostess Vampire Jessica into his trailer for some not-so-sexy sex— all through the fly of his wrangler jeans. The next day, he gives her a big Christmas bonus, leaving the poor vampire girl to feel like a vampire prostitute. Also: Sam’s real name is Dick Whitman!
Upon editing, I’ve realized that I may have confused last night’s True Blood with last night’s Mad Men. Since last night’s True Blood was one of the worst hours of television I’ve ever seen (it was so bad that I can’t even work up the energy to mock it), I will let the mistake stand. In hindsight, I actually made True Blood sound like a pretty cool show. You’re welcome.