I have a running joke with a friend; we agree that if things don't work out in this journalism racket, we see our futures at Costco.

After watching "The Costco Craze" (9 tonight, CNBC), I think we need to get serious. This interesting report, reported by Carl Quintanilla, reveals a company with the kind of culture employees crave and a commitment to the kind of excellence that makes $93 billion in annual sales an understandable number.

Quintanilla explains the psychology behind members commitment to the warehouse. The store is designed to make you roam the aisles, and pick up more than you came for. And while Walmart offers 100,000 items on its shelves, Costco offers a mere 4,000. It selects for you, which also makes you want more.

Relationship TV shows typically focus on finding love (or "love" as in "The Bachelor") or fixing folk so they can learn how to be in relationships (like "Tough Love").

But what's equally important is to know when to get out of a relationship. That's the focus of "Love Addiction" (8 tonight, TV One), a new eight-episode docu-series that stages interventions to help men and women leave a bad situation.

Naturally, the folks in the relationships can't see that their love is toxic, so the intervention is triggered by a loved one. But before that, the series gives an upclose and detailed look at the couple, with the specifics filled in by the couple themselves. For the surprise intervention, a therapist or relationship expert is brought in to guide the person to an enlightened decision.

I never watch the CW. Even when there's a show I find interesting ("Nikita," "The Vampire Diaries"), my remote just won't go there.

But maybe I'll try a little harder to get there for "The L.A. Complex" (9 tonight, the CW). It's a show that could only exist on the CW -- it's about young good-looking people living in a grungy Los Angeles apartment building -- but it has moments that set it apart, lending an unexpected poignancy.

All the residents are aspiring to make it in Hollywood. There's a seemingly sweet girl who wants to be a dancer; a very unfunny guy who wants to be a comedian; a nerdy black guy who wants to be a rap producer; a Canadian transplant who wants to be an actress.

There can be something comforting about a movie that follows a formula. It may not be surprising or have a lot of tension, but if the performances work, it can still satisfy.

That's the case with "Firelight" (9 tonight, ABC), a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie starring Cuba Gooding Jr. It's a stock inspirational, make-you-weepy story of redemption that has a gentle loveliness about it because of Gooding, the young female cast and director Darnell Martin. (FYI: Singer Alicia Keys is one of the executive producers.)
 

It's awfully hard to come up with a new twist on the cop show, and yet everyone keeps on trying.

The latest effort "NYC 22" (10 tonight, CBS) comes from executive producer Robert De Niro and writer/creator Richard Price, the author of "Clockers" and "Freedomland" (two great, gritty reads) and screenplays for the films "Sea of Love" and the Oscar-nominated "The Color of Money." Native New Yorkers both, they've set the show in "upper Manhattan" aka Harlem, and populated it with a realistically diverse cast of characters.

And yet, the show is about as white bread bland as it can be.

HBO's new comedy series about four young women navigating their 20s in New York City is nothing like "Sex in the City." Let me disavow you of that notion, right off the bat.

"Girls," created, written and directed by Lena Dunham (who also stars as the main character, Hannah), is painfully honest, brutally awkward, and uncomfortably stark.
 
And yes, I'm using words like "painful" and "brutal" and "uncomfortable" to describe one of the best -- and funniest -- new shows in years.

"Girls," co-executive produced by Judd Apatow, is funny in the way that Louis CK's "Louie" is funny: both shows skew dark and are often hard to watch without occasionally wincing. But they also find subtle, beautiful moments of comedy in real, and sometimes painful, situations.

ABC's newest comedy, "Don't Trust the B in Apartment 23," would be pretty hilarious even without the incredible self-parody from James Van Der Beek, but The Beek from the Creek is a revelation here. He is an unexpected joy in flannel.

In "Don't Trust the B" (I don't have to explain to you what the "B" stands for, do I?), a naive woman moves from the Midwest to New York City to start a promising career in the financial sector, but when everything falls apart (pretty much as soon as she arrives in the city), June (Dreama Walker) can either retreat in defeat or stay and conquer the big city on her own.

June decides to stay and conquer, and the first step in starting her new life is finding an apartment and a roommate. Unfortunately, she falls in BFF-love with Chloe (Krysten Ritter), whose scam is collecting "first and last month plus security" from trusting roommates and then turning full-blown "B" to scare them off. And I'm not talking about leaving the milk on the counter and playing the stereo too loud. Chloe's tactics are evil and over-the-top and hilarious.

"Magic City" (10 tonight, Starz) pulls together all the hot motifs: There are mobsters, there's the beautiful Miami Beach scenery and it all takes place in a fancy hotel in the late 50s, so you get the glamour and the great clothes. There's lots of nekkid breasts on display too.

Those elements make for a beautiful series, but sadly the superficial aspects are as good as it gets. "Magic City" is so cool it leaves you cold. It's missing a solid center.

I think part of the problem is the handsome, likable star Jeffrey Dean Morgan, who plays dapper Miramar Playa Hotel owner Ike Evans, a non-religious Jew who lost his wife to cancer, and is remarried to Vera (Olga Kurylenko), a beautiful former showgirl striving to be the perfect Jewish wife.

As someone who inexplicably holds on to a no-longer used "Dancing Elmo," I get that the character has an irresistible charm. The same is true of "Being Elmo: A Puppeteer's Journey" (UNC-TV, 10 tonight), a lovely documentary about Kevin Clash, the man behind Elmo.

It's the story of a young, shy African-American boy from Baltimore who becomes mesmerized by puppets and puppetry, and as it turns out, that's his calling. Clash, we're told, made his first puppet out of the lining of his father's trench coat. Instead of getting in trouble, his parents astonished by his skill, told him to ask next time he felt the urge to restyle clothing.

Sixty seconds into the first episode of ABC's new drama "Scandal" (debuting tonight at 10), it's apparent -- even if you know nothing about the show going in -- that this is a Shonda Rhimes vehicle. (I'm positive that almost every male reader just clicked away from this page.)

The Shonda tell in the opening of "Scandal" is the pace of the dialogue. It's fast. Very, very fast. Like, "Gilmore Girls" on amphetamines fast. (Did I just lose the remaining male readers?)

But seriously, despite my allusion to "Grey's Anatomy" and the risky "Gilmore Girls" plug, I don't think men should shrink in fear from "Scandal." On the Estrogen-Testosterone Soapy Drama Meter (patent pending), it's pretty well balanced and safe for male consumption. 

I promise.