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By JEN CHEN

Last night, The Real Housewives of New York City made its debut on Bravo, and with it came the national TV appearance of former Fort Scott resident Alex McCord. She’s the one who’s married to a gay/not-gay Australian who goes shopping and gets pedicures with her. Oh, and he favors Speedos, while she frolics in a G-string bikini on a St. Barts beach. She’s also the one who, in the commercials, shudders at the thought of ever living in the suburbs. Not surprisingly, she’s already been the object of much snarkery, thanks to the special half-hour preview show that the network’s been airing since the end of January. Dubbed K-Snag (that’s Kansas-Snaggle, as in tooth), she’s been excoriated for her hairdo and her weirdo dependent relationship with her hotel-manager-and-Black-AmEx-card-carrying husband.

But you know what? I thought she’d be insufferable on the actual show, and actually she turned out to be kind of meh. Sure, she and Soul Patch – and their slightly Eurotrashy, social-climbing ways – were a little annoying to watch. But I’d rather see the pretentious antics of the other women on the show, like highfalutin’ Countess LuAnn and her imperious Ralph Lauren-ad-worthy spawn (is it mean to say that the boy seems like he might turn into a future d-bag Wall Street I-banker?). Then, there’s Ramona, the dorky dancer, and her self-proclaimed MILF friends, who recall the tacky spirit of The Real Housewives of Orange County with their party-girl ways. She’s married to slick Mario and ogles her often-shirtless tennis instructor (who introduced himself last night as “Tim Lobello. Tennis pro in the Hamptons by day…” And what by night? Gigolo? Cat burglar?)

Other characters include the Single One, a Martha Stewart wannabe, who’s massively pressuring her boyfriend to commit (thus earning the Look of Death from him in one scene), and the Other One who is going to take her 14-year-old daughter to a detox center to help her lose weight and fix her arthritis.

So, in the upcoming season: Will Ramona beat the Other One in a much-hyped tennis match in the Hamptons? Will the Countess get another purebred Westie and name him Martin (to go with current puppy Aston)? And, most important of all, will we see Alex and husband go on shopping sprees for more $2,665 dresses that make it look like a sunburst is erupting from her crotch? I’ll be watching because I’m the sad sort of TV-watcher who gets sucked into these things.