This week Earn’s once again flush with newfound dividends and he’s going well out of his way to waste it … again. As he and Van — seemingly in the midst of an “on-again” phase in their relationship — cuddle up with his freshly-cut check, he tells her he wants to live large for a change. “No more Mr. Nice Earn,” he says. Van proves she can be just as irresponsible as he is, jumping at the chance to help him fritter away his funds. Rent, day care fees and college savings can all wait, apparently.

To be fair, they don’t end up shopping for limited edition sneakers, diamond-studded jewelry or any other ostentatious status symbols. Nor are they headed someplace lavish where they can pose for the ‘Gram. No, the couple’s idea of the glamorous life is catching a movie (VIP seats, whatever that means), then seeing where else the night takes them. Not too different from any other parents with a toddler.

While the previous episode centered around Al’s failures, this week it’s Earn’s turn, as he learns the hard way that a guy who looks like him can’t just go around spending hundred dollar bills all willy-nilly. “It’s legal U.S. tender!” he keeps insisting. But it’s not the green people are seeing, it’s the brown. After declining to break such a large bill, a white movie theater employee is even suspicious of his debit card. And when Earn tries to plead his case to a nearby white theatergoer (who’s able to successfully pay with a $100 bill), all he gets is a silent, menacing flash of the man’s holstered pistol.

Their luck is no better at the hookah lounge Van picked out. The black African bar owner, having apparently accepted the worst stereotypes of black Americans — one half of a commonly acknowledged two-sided culture clash — calls the cops on them, accusing Earn of using counterfeit money.

Instead of the trademark “Atlanta” satire, we get a face-value portrayal of everyday racism at its most insidious, tedious, exhausting and altogether unsurprising. In both places, Earn is scrutinized, held suspect and shunned just for being who he is and going where he wants to go. Without the show’s usual subtle allusions and abstract allegories, these scenes drag. The writer Stephen Glover seems to have intentionally chosen not to be cheeky or overly clever when addressing such a mundane, unavoidable fact of life. He makes you feel the tiring grind of it all.