— but as she walks toward me, I realize she’s actually going a bit cross-eyed.“She ran into a glass door,” her publicist informs me.Doute, wearing a sequined blazer, a tank top, and a knot the size of a quarter on her forehead, extends a lithe, spangly arm to shake my hand before making her way to the bathroom to assess the damage.The run-in with the door happened just before, at the office of another media company.
But she remains a central cast member on the show because she’s beautiful (slender; model-height; just the right amount of Botox), and because she is so embedded in SUR’s internecine feuds that the show simply could not go on without her.
Doute has achieved the new American Dream: starring on a workplace reality-TV show without ever having to go to work at all. Doute comes back from the bathroom, head throbbing, and orders a bottle of wine to share.
When the waiter returns to present the vintage, she tells him, “Just pour it, love.
It’s Pinot Grigio, we know we love it.” Then she explains why Katie was The drama so far this season has centered on a war of words between Katie Maloney, a SUR waitress who is Doute’s friend, and La La Kent, a SUR hostess who is not.
(For now, anyway; loyalties in the SUR universe are renegotiated about once a quarter.) In a series of confrontations, Kent called Maloney, well, fat, and Maloney called Kent, well, a whore, and now some fans are accusing Maloney of slut-shaming Kent. “La La definitely started that,” she says, leaning into the table.