Shouts out to owen, Jenga, and Wing.
After an interminable series of "previously on 'Dawson's Creek'" vignettes, we at long last fade up Chez Leery with the sound of crickets chirping in the background and a ladder falling down and landing at the feet of Dawson "Free Prize Inside!" Leery and Mitch "The Flash" Leery in their matching Old Navy outfits. Dawson stares at The Flash, incredulous that his father actually thinks he could both get an erection AND know what to do with it, and The Flash says, "Now, don't give me that look -- I know there's been a lot of late-night creeping around. I'm just taking standard precautions" as he stalks off in parental exasperation mode, and Dawson tags along after him and says in that Drama Club-vice-president over-acting voice where he laughs and talks at the same time, "You are so in denial," and The Flash says, "Excuse me?" and Dawson, swinging his arms like an autistic four-year-old, says, "Denial -- you can't accept the fact that the little boy you brought into the world is grown up, is a sexual being," and The Flash demands, "Are you having sex with Joey?" as they go through the front door, and Dawson says, "No, I did not say that, but I am a sexual being -- responsible, mind you, but biologically, a sexual being," and if I hear the phrase "sexual being" one more time I will extinguish a lit cigarette in my eye, and then The Flash repeats in confusion, "'Sexual being?'" and HISSSSSS, there goes my left cornea as Dawson smugly tells The Flash, "Yep, and you are having trouble facing that reality -- it's a typical parental problem, but do you know what?" The Flash responds wearily, "No. What?" Dawson says in an insufferably condescending tone, "The sooner you accept it, the sooner you and I will have an honest relationship." Let's review. Dawson wants to have an honest relationship with his father -- a man whose picture appears in the dictionary to the term "closet case" -- about his sex life. One word: Not. The Flash says, "Mm hmm. Dawson, are you and Joey having sex?" like, objection, asked and answered, and Dawson says, all fed up, "No!" and The Flash asks again, "No?" and Dawsons says, all fed up again, "No! But! One day! Down the road! I'm gonna have sex," all talking down to The Flash, and I don't know, maybe it's different with boys and their dads, but my father didn't even want to know that I menstruated, much less about my future plans to do the horizontal mambo, and certainly not in that snotty get-out-of-my-face tone of voice, but before The Flash can take him further to task, Dawson continues, "And you acting all paranoid and chucking [?] ladders and locking windows is not gonna stop me, so will you stop acting like a 'typical parent'" -- Dawson makes snotty little quotation marks in the air with his fingers - "and just let things take their natural course. Let Joey and me hang out in my room alone at night unsupervised," and The Flash thinks about this for a split second and then says, "No," and marches past Dawson and into Dawson's room as Dawson protests, "Why not?" and The Flash gives a beleaguered sigh and says, "Because, Dawson, the fact is I am a parent, all right? I am your parent, and it's my duty to be paranoid about my fifteen-year-old son upstairs in my very own house having sex," and Dawson tells him, "You are so unenlightened -- didn't you grow up in the sixties?" and The Flash says, "Dawson, you can psychologically deconstruct me all you want, but, ah, here's the deal. Parent me, child you," and leaves the room repeating "parent me, child you," and immediately afterwards Dawson's closet door with the big old "Hook" poster on it opens to reveal Joey "Miracle Bra" Potter, and as she emerges Dawson says, "He's such a tyrant," and Joey says, "You handled it well," and Dawson says, "You think so?" as they start smooching, and the feedback from the lip mics must have drowned out the sound of The Flash sneaking up to the door because he whips it open and catches Dawson and Joey in the act, and Dawson says, "Joey! What are you doing here?" in this bizarro Grandpa Walton accent, like, ha ha, not. The Flash escorts Joey out, but not before grounding Dawson, who says, "Bye, Joey, see you in a few minutes," and The Flash says, "No, you won't."
Credits. Paula Cole and her armpits mangling the English language with the phrase "say a little prayer for I." Paula -- prepositions take an objective pronoun. Learn it, live it, love it. Oh, and by the way, your song still sucks.
Over at Bessie's Bastard Barn (tm Wing), chaos reigns. As some metaphorical water comes to a metaphorical boil, Joey and Bessie and the baby rush around to get ready, and a frazzled Bessie wants Joey to go over to The Icehouse and do a few chores before school because the health inspectors plan to make a surprise visit to the restaurant this week, and a put-upon Joey doesn't want to because she might miss first period, and Bessie hikes up the little bundle of shame and begs Joey to do her this favor, and can I just ask what happened to Bessie's oh-so-scandalous boyfriend? Did he ditch Bessie's ass to go to chef school or something? Anyway, the bundle of shame starts bawling and Joey agrees to go and as she goes out the door Bessie adds a few more chores to the list, thus setting up some sisterly conflict later in the show.
Back at the Scarlet A Ranch, The Flash hears Dawson getting ready to leave for school and asks, "Is it the sexual being himself?" and Dawson, who has apparently ditched the Flow-Bee in favor of pin curlers and some setting lotion to give himself a modified Caesar-meets-late-Mike-Brady 'do, says, "You know what I was thinking?" and The Flash steels himself for yet another patronizing interaction with his son and says, "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me," and Dawson says as Gale "Standard Poodle" Leery bustles about in the kitchen behind him, "Don't even try to tell me that when you were my age, you weren't sneaking around and making out with girls in the backs of cars and movie theaters." The Flash admits that he did indeed do these things, and as Dawson makes an "I rest my case" gesture with his arms, The Flash goes on to say, "But that was the whole fun of being fifteen, Dawson -- I mean, it was the fear of getting caught that made it more dangerous and exciting." Um, Mitch? Why don't you dig that hole a little deeper, because we can still see your head. So Dawson responds snarkily, "So by restricting my access to Joey, what you're really trying to do is liven up my sex life?" As The Flash ponders this so so inappropriate and uppity comeback, Dawson asks Gale, "Did you hear that, Mom?" and Gale in her short-enough-to-make-Amanda-Woodward-blush miniskirt sputters, "What sex life?" and The Flash gets up and says, "Now you're twisting my words again, Dawson -- go to school," and Dawson grabs an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter, and I would go into a whole digression on Georgia O'Keeffe and the Garden of Eden and vulvas and snakes and sin and forbidden fruit, but I won't, because I don't give the writers that much credit, and Dawson tosses the apple in the air and chuckles condescendingly and says, "Did you ever notice that whenever your parental authority is in question you just start barking out orders?" and The Flash says, "Go. Now!" like, ha ha, not, and Dawson kisses his mother goodbye and leaves for school, thus ending the Oedipus-meets-Saved By The Bell portion of the scene, and The Flash bemoans their son's lawyerly tendencies by saying that "he has become the master of manipulation," and Gale says, "I wonder where he learned that?" all sarcastically, and then they bicker about the open marriage idea and Gale passive-aggressively says that if Mitch wants to "get even with [her] and sow [his] oats" that he should go ahead, and Mitch says he doesn't want to fight about it, and Gale says all hopefully, "You don't?" and then they have a moment, and then she goes to work and The Flash arranges his face into a pensive shape.
Cut to Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, where Marlin Perkins watches in horror as a warthog crashes through the underbrush and gores an innocent -- oops, my bad, cut to Jen walking into school with Abby "Pilotfish" Morgan as Abby in her smocky maternity tank top and velour camel-toe (tm xix) pants asks Jen in her ill-fitting slip dress du jour which of two nearby meatheads she would rather sleep with, and Jen's critically ill self-esteem rallies briefly as she says, "Neither," and Abby says, "Are you crazy?" which sort of makes sense in light of the other boys they have to choose from, and Jen calls the meatheads "gym junkies" who do things like "play football and swap pornos -- they're a couple of pigs," like, LOOK WHO'S TALKING, and then Abby describes them as "so completely disgusting, it's almost erotic," and I kind of like the way this girl thinks. Then they walk towards the school building and Abby muses that, like the rest of the English-speaking world, she "cannot believe I am friends with someone who only has eyes for Dawson Leery," and Jen says, "Guilty as charged," and Abby again speaks for the English-speaking world by saying, "Please! You're making me ill!" She then reverses herself and tells Jen to "make it happen" even though she just said that Jen's fixation on Dawson makes her sick, and a feeble-ternative band starts thrashing away in the background, and speaking of things happening, did the aliens from Cocoon come and get Gramps' body or something? Memo to the writers: when you kill someone off for dramatic effect, it is customary to give him or her a funeral also.
Capeside High interior shot. Andie "Dexatrim" McPhee dashes in the door and accosts Pacey "Functional Orphan" Witter wanting a favor, and Pacey tells her that he wants to continue having a "mellow morning" and "keep a low pro." Memo to the writers: your concept of "how kids talk" has no basis in reality. Anyway, Pacey tries to blow Andie off but she has none of it and starts spluttering and freaking out about borrowing Pacey's notes and getting behind in class, and Pacey tells her to chill, and Andie says that the downward spiral starts with missing one day and then getting more and more confused and behind until you wind up "out on the street, drunk and dirty, wheeling a shopping cart," and first of all, I don't think the writers could possibly hit us over the head any harder with the whole Pacey-the-lazy-blue-collar-slacker versus Andie-the-studious-neurotic-rich-girl contrast, and second of all, Andie, you do know those diet pills have speed in them, don't you? Anyway, Pacey tells her she won't end up on the street, because rich people don't end up on the street, they end up in Florida. Um, Pacey? Don't you mean "old people end up in Florida"? The bell rings, Pacey says mockingly, "You're doomed!" in a meta-statement (tm xix) about Meredith Monroe's career, and they go to class as I scribble "who cares" for the seven hundredth time on my notepad.
Cut to class, where of course Andie gets called on, and of course Andie does not know the difference between microeconomics and macroeconomics and she has to whisper "pass" while turning bright red and letting the resident overweight glasses-wearing nerd cliché Kenny answer instead, bringing us up to The Plot Twist Of Great Contrivance in which the teacher pairs off the entire class for a household-budget microeconomics project, and Jen and Dawson get paired up, and Abby and Kenny get paired up, and Andie and Pacey get paired up, and the two meatheads get paired up in a same-sex couple and the teacher has to explain to them that "same-sex couple" means "gay" and one of them says "what do you mean, 'gay'?" in an attempt at homosexual-panic humor which I can't imagine anyone finding funny besides Trent Lott, and I would ask if they could possibly have found a more tired subplot, but alas, I already know the answer to that question.
In the cafeteria, Joey and Dawson shuffle through the food line and Joey bitches about the pointlessness of the assignment. Compared to the Puritan church diorama I had to make in eighth grade, this little household-budgeting thing seems like the height of relevance, but whatever. Dawson defends the assignment as a look ahead at what they will have to deal with in the "real world," and Joey says, "I hate to break it to you, Peter Pan [Spielberg reference], but some of us are already dealing with those problems," and as they pay the cashier Joey says she doesn't want to think about the future because she has no idea what she wants to do with her life. Yeah, take a number, sister. Dawson says she does too, and she says, "No I don't -- that's you, Dawson. You've got it all mapped out -- you're going to go off to Hollywood, become some high-profile movie director, make millions of dollars, get a drug addiction, end up at the Betty Ford clinic..." and Dawson starts laughing and interrupts, "Excuse me?" Joey has no idea where she'll be in ten years and says the project will just depress her, but Dawson thinks it will be "fun," which earns him a suspicious look from Joey, who says, "Oh, really -- and are you as excited to partner up with Jen as she is? The look on her face was classic, Dawson," and if you listen closely you can hear the hissing and scratching of an angry kitten, and Dawson tells Joey she has nothing to worry about, and Joey smirks happily with one side of her mouth, and then she sees Jen and Abby entering the caf, and she sees Jen looking wistfully at Dawson with her dress all clinging to her belly, and Joey says, "Famous last words," and takes a pull on her bottle of product-placed Dannon spring water.
Okay, cut to strategy session with Abby and Jen at another table. Abby busts Jen for giving Dawson the furry eyeball: "Unh, Jen, you're drooling!" Jen sits down and rolls her eyes. Abby: "Look, this is the moment of truth. You're going to be working with him all week long, one on one, so the question is, are you going to be passive, and masochistic, and really piss me off, or are you going to be proactive and grab him by the dipstick and make me proud?" On the one hand, go Abby, but on the other hand, "dipstick"? Jen looks at Dawson and Joey canoodling on the other side of the caf: "Abby, it's not that simple, all right? I mean, take a look at him, he's totally into Joey. He's in love with her." Abby delivers a brilliant assessment of adolescent males everywhere: "He's a fifteen-year-old boy -- he doesn't know what love is. All he does know is that he goes to sleep every night jerkin' his gherkin and wakes up every morning humping his mattress," and on the one hand, go Abby, and on the other hand, "gherkin"? They both break up laughing, and I guess I would have found that funny too in my sophomore year of high school but now I just find it, uh, sophomoric, not to mention painfully true. Then Kenny arrives at the table to talk to Abby about their assignment and she more or less tells him to bugger off, but he persists, so she says really meanly, "Look, can you just do the assignment and put my name on it, 'cause that'd be great, thanks, bye," as if we hadn't long ago established Abby's bitchiness to everyone's satisfaction. Kenny shambles off. Abby: "I think it's time for a little bit of this New York City regression. I mean, you have to show him the old, naughty Jen, 'cause this new Jen just isn't workin'." Uh duh. Abby continues, "I mean, you're going to be working together all week, it's the perfect opportunity. Late-night study sessions, role-playing like you guys are husband and wife -- you can remind him of what a great couple you used to be and how compatible you are." Jen, skeptical: "I don't know -- I don't want to jump the gun, you know?" Abby: "I want you to jump the gun -- his gun. And I want all the gory details." Two words: Puh. Lease.
Cut to sunset and scenes of Capeside, and then to the Icehouse. Jack "Clueless Wonder" McPhee gets bitched out by Joey for not knowing how to mop. Jack: "I know I made a few blunders" -- first among them: auditioning for this show - "but I'm not a screw-up." Whatever. Bessie comes in and wants to know if something flooded. Another health-inspection-paranoia conversation. Joey worries aloud about her project. Bessie offers to help by saying that she is "virtually a single career mother," and I hoped this would segue into an explanation of her boyfriend's mysterious disappearance, but it didn't. Joey tells Bessie no thanks, she has to do a model of a successful single career mother. Ouch. Bessie says she might not have a big income, but she does know how to budget money, so she could still help; Joey says Bessie's right, she does need advice, and that she will find a different single career woman and ask her for help. Ouch. Bessie says don't bother, she can help Joey with the assignment. Joey points out that Bessie "can barely get [her] bills paid on time" and that she would really rather talk to someone else. Ouch.
Cut to some sort of coffeehouse, where we see that fascinating study in personality contrasts, Pacey and Andie. Well, all except for the "fascinating" part. As they work on their project, they come into conflict -- what a surprise! Andie wants to stay within their budget, but Pacey wants a sportscar instead -- go figure! Andie wants a "divorce," and Pacey says, fine, you keep the kids, I'll take the car, and Andie calls him a male stereotype -- nope, didn't see that coming at all! When they decide to go "apartment-scouting" together, I don't care that much -- who'd have guessed!
The Flash, outside, in a sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off (no comment), sanding his boat (again, no comment). A car pulls up, and the Faithless Hussy gets out and the male driver gets out, and the Hussy kisses the male driver good-bye as minor-key music of betrayal tootles in the background and The Flash glowers. Gale chirps, "Hi, honey. Where's Dawson?" The Flash growls, "He's door, studying." Gale, lowering her barely-covered butt into a seat: "What a day." The Flash, sulking: "Yeah, I'll bet." Apparently, Gale's car wouldn't start and Frank from accounting had to give her a ride home, and Mitch wants to know why she didn't just call him, and Gale wants Mitch not to get mad about her getting a ride from Frank in accounting, and Mitch can't help not trusting her anymore and doesn't know how to get the trust and honesty back, and he starts thinking aloud about open marriage: "Look, maybe by taking away the rules, I can take away the need to trust you, and we can get back some of what we've lost." Gale: "Meaning?" Mitch: "Meaning from now on, Thursday night is date night. We can go out with whomever we want, do whatever we want, whenever we want, and the only rule is we're honest about it. See, there's no need to lie. An open marriage allows us that," and then he walks off, probably to call Frank from accounting and ask him out on a date, while Gale just sits there looking dismayed, and Mitch needs either to suck it up and get over himself or to kick Gale's straying ass out of the house, but going out on dates with a woman not his wife when he has a dependent child in the house does not constitute appropriate behavior, period, full stop. Oh, and one tiny little barely audible snap to Mitch for correct use of "whomever."
Cut to a special about truffles on the Food Network -- oops, my bad, cut to Jen's bedroom with Jen and Dawson budgeting for their "family," and Grams must have gone out to play bingo because if she doesn't like Jen saying the word "hell," somehow I don't think she'd tolerate Jen entertaining a boy in her room. Dawson wants to send their kids to state school to save money; Jen says, "Dawson, if we had kids, they'd be Ivy League material." Jen, if you had kids, they'd wind up in a BLT.
Dawson bitches about the cost of educating their children, and Jen makes a big show of laughing at "this conversation -- listen to us, we're talking about our mortgages, how we're going to afford to send our kids to college," and Dawson totally doesn't take the bait as Jen flops down on her bed all sausaged into her tight jeans and pale pink top (no comment) and says, "I don't know, it's like we're actually married. Who knows -- twenty years on down the line, could be us," as Dawson sort of snorts uncomfortably and changes the subject to their unrealistic travel expenses, and they talk about where they should go on vacation and kick around ideas like Hawaii and Jamaica and Fiji, and Jen rolls off the bed and comes to sit to Dawson as he wonders if they should take their kids on vacation with them, and Jen says no, their college-age kids wouldn't want to come anyway and if the two of them go alone "it's much more romantic," and Dawson just stares down at his notebook as the viewing audience collectively cringes, but Jen doesn't stop there. She leans in towards him all porquettishly (sort of tm Wing) and simpering, "God, Dawson, we've agreed on practically every aspect of married life, I don't think we could really be more compatible," and Dawson snorts again and refuses to look at Jen, and Jen rests her chin on his shoulder and says, "You know, it's kind of a relief to see that you and me [sic] can still hang out, you know?" and Dawson uneasily says, "Yeah," and Jen rests her whole head on Dawson's shoulder and says, "I mean, it's funny, there's [sic] moments when it feels like nothing's really changed between us," and as the 150-watt lightbulb that Jen has been screwing in FINALLY lights up over Dawson's head, Jen says, "Like right now," and gazes into his eyes, and Dawson looks mortified and nods awkwardly and snorts again and says, "Well, we've probably done enough work for tonight, what do you think?" as he gets up and gathers his things to bolt, and Jen gets up too and says, "Dawson, uh, if you happen to get any inspiration on the assignment or, you know, just want to talk, whatever -- I'm here for you. My door is always open. If you know what I mean," with a winsome smile of invitation. Jen, reel in that line already -- THE FISH AIN'T BITIN' TODAY. Dawson says, "Yeah, I think so. I'll see you tomorrow," and flees as Jen sighs with disappointment.
Cut to my first apartment in Manhattan -- oops, my bad, cut to a vermin-infested hellhole in the greater Capeside metro area, as Andie questions the chain-smoking landlady from Kingpin about whether she plans to rent the apartment "as is." Pacey: impatient. Andie: thorough. Pacey: apathetic. Andie: diligent. Opposites: attracting, at the approximate speed of continental drift. Pacey points out that they have to turn the project in tomorrow and they "don't have a thing on paper." Andie cites Pacey's "self-destructive agenda." Pacey, tuning up for the Aria Of Self-Pity, tells Andie that she knows nothing about him, then delivers his usual sarcastic oh-woe-is-me descant in full voice, accompanied by the world's smallest violin: since his family has decided his black-sheep status, it doesn't matter what he does, because his family doesn't care one way or the other, so why try?
Switching easily to a more sinister A-minor key, Pacey then tells Andie that she likes this project because it lets her go slumming, that "[she's] never had a problem in [her] entire life," that she finds the problems of people without money "fascinating" for their "novelty," and winds up this devastating diatribe by sneering, "You're rich and you're spoiled and that's what it comes down to." But before the roses and shouts of "bravo" begin showering down from the cheap seats, Andie says, "You know what, you're right, I don't know anything about you and you know even less about me, so just leave me alone!" and does the Dexatrim Stomp right on out of there (tm xix) as Pacey feels bad and calls after her and sets us up for the Moment Of Revelation/I Guess I Misjudged Her scene later, and the landlady from Kingpin wants to know if they want the apartment, like, ha ha, not, curtain.
Cut to a scale model of the Woodbury Commons outlet mall and Joey eyeing it skeptically in the waiting area of Westin Associates. Joey introduces herself to Laura Westin, successful career woman. Yes, the actress appeared on a feminine hygiene product ad, and no, I don't remember which one either. [Wing Chun adds: "Am I the only one who remembers Successful Career Woman as Charlie's bitchy careerist running-for-some-political-office, uncomfortable-with-the-kids girlfriend from Party of Five? Who thought she was pregnant at one point, and was glad she wasn't, but Charlie was kind of disappointed? I am? Okay, never mind."] Laura Westin tells Joey about her career path from housewife and mother to successful interior designer and part-time teacher, and asks Joey's advice about the design of a chain of Mexican restaurants while one of her real employees shoots daggers at Joey with her eyes. Joey points out that the bar and the kitchen should go to each other and not at opposite ends of the restaurant. Laura Westin asks if she "can pick your brain about some of these other designs, a little trade-off for helping you on your assignment?" and Joey does her tight-lipped smile of embarrassment and says, "I don't know, I'd be happy to," and I don't think we really need the whole Donna-Martin-gets-unrealistic-praise-from-tertiary-characters vibe on this show, first of all, and second of all, interior designers and architects are not the same thing so make up your mind, and third of all, whatever.
Cut to the coffeehouse, where Abby and Jen have set up "Seduce Dawson '98" headquarters at a window table and Abby with her hair in braids says, "Nothing. You've been working with him all week and you expect me to believe that nothing has happened," and Jen with her hair all zig-zag parted says, "I'm telling you, nothing has happened. I don't know -- he's so head over heels in love with Joey, I can't compete with her," and can I get an "AMEN" from the people, and Abby says, "Now that is where you're wrong. Joey has nothing on you," and favoring Kenny with her attention she says, "Kenny, what do you think of Joey Potter?" and Kenny says, "She's hot," and Abby snaps, "Oh, shut up! What do you know, you're practically wall-eyed!" Well, no, not really, since "wall-eyed" doesn't really mean "blind," it means that you either have a cataract on your iris or that you have a travelling eye, but in any case, Kenny gets up from his table and says in an inexplicable Southern accent that he must have borrowed from Bessie, "Look, Abby, I do know we should be working on our assignment," and Abby does her best Sideshow Bob shudder and says, "Okay, you're bugging me -- can you just get out of my hair and go finish it?" as Jen tries not to start laughing, and Kenny points out, "Abby, you haven't been doing your share of the work," and Jen really does start laughing as Abby responds, "Well, what do you expect? I'm not like you, Kenny, I have a very demanding social life," and Kenny shambles away. How stage-managing the romantic delusions of bacon-on-the-hoof qualifies as a demanding social life, I have no idea, but don't even get me started on the number of times I would get stuck doing an oral report or whatever with one of the "in group," and the girl I got paired with usually viewed her favoring me with her attention and my actually completing the report as a fair division of labor, but anyway, Abby sighs in annoyance and says, "Anyway, Joey may be pretty -- she does have that fresh-faced appeal in a very J.Crew-catalog kind of way [Mr. Williamson, please send me a check], but she's no you. You're a sex kitten, Jen, and you should work it to your advantage." Pardon me while I go downtown, hire seventeen mimes, and tell them to form the word "WHATEVER" with their bodies. Jen: "What are you saying, that I should just take off all my clothes and throw myself at him?" Abby: "It could work." Back in the day, someone said the same thing about the Hindenburg. Abby continues, "Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor, and tonight is your last night with him. I mean, you have to go for broke -- wear something scandalous. You can borrow one of my dresses, and just spray perfume in all the right places -- big, red, moist lips," and Abby wiggles her shoulders seductively for emphasis as Jen bites her lip and says, "You know what, you're right. I may as well put the final nail in my coffin of shame, what have I got to lose?" Abby: "Yeah, just seduce him! His tighty-whiteys will be in a ball by the foot of the bed before you can say 'Joey Potter is a virgin,'" and Jen finds this so hilarious that she almost sprays coffee out of her snout. As for me, two letters: E. W.
Back at the Scarlet A Ranch, Gale has prepared a nice romantic dinner, but The Flash shoots her down by telling her he "made other plans." Gale blows out the candles in a metaphor for not only the dwindling prospects for their marriage but also my dwindling interest in same.
On the front porch of the Scarlet A Ranch, Joey invites Dawson to come with her to the Icehouse to help her help Bessie clean up, but Dawson declines because he has to finish his project with Jen. Joey singsongs, "Mine's done," and tells him that Laura "practically did the whole thing," and offered her an internship any time she wants it, and that she realized she could run her own company or own her own business someday, and Dawson says, "See? Looks like Joey has some career aspirations after all," in that insufferable buck-up-little-camper tone of voice. As Joey shrugs self-deprecatingly, Gale breezes out the front door and tells Dawson that if The Flash comes home, "[T]ell him that, since it's Thursday night, I've gone out." Dawson: "When will you be back?" Gale: "Later." Dawson tells Joey, "I have given up trying to figure out my parents. It's just -- things are really weird right now," as Joey gives him the raised eyebrow and then in a flirtatious tone of voice asks, "Do you think maybe we should take advantage of this momentary lack of supervision?" and they start kissing. You have to hand it to the sound guy - I can hear individual bubbles of saliva bursting. Anyway, once again the lip mic distortion drowns out the advancing footsteps of an unwanted visitor, this time in the form of Jen, who has on a diaphanous blue slip dress with brown trim, and she says, "Hi," and as Mr. Happy deflates Dawson says, "Hey," and Jen says, "If I'm interrupting something, I can just come back later," and Joey says, "No, actually, I was just leaving," and makes sure to give Dawson a kiss and a "whatever" face as she goes, and she passes Jen on her way to the door and says, "Nice dress," and Jen says, "Thanks, I borrowed it," and Joey coldly says, "I bet," and the judges have scored this exchange Joey 1, Jen 0. Dawson rubs his face and says, "So, where do you want to do this?" and Jen says in way too sultry voice for a study session, "Somewhere we can be comfortable. Let's go to your bedroom," and vamps her way into the house as I go downstairs to sign off on the delivery of a case of cherry Maalox.
Over at the Roach Coach, I mean Icehouse, the so-called same-sex couple get into a so-called lovers' quarrel about whether they should have two Range Rovers or a fancy honeymoon, and they storm out of the restaurant and past Joey with one telling the other, "You're so selfish. Why do you have to act like that?" and the other one saying, "Oh, I'm selfish?" and if you listen closely you can hear Trent Lott slapping his knee and guffawing, "Oh, those kooky gay folks." Joey gives them a weird look and apologizes to Bessie for being late. Bessie and Jack both look like hell, as does the restaurant, since according to Jack they "got slammed," as IF everyone on the Cape had a sudden craving for cod cheeks on a stick, and Joey tells Bessie that she told Laura about "[their] financial problems" and that Laura came up with some suggestions, and Bessie gets all defensive about the "super-successful career woman" helping them and says she doesn't need Laura telling her how she should do, she needs Joey to help her get ready for the inspection tomorrow. Joey throws Bessie attitude about all the work Bessie makes her do and how she feels like Bessie's "full-time slave" and says she actually has "a life" (no comment) and doesn't have time to do all of Bessie's scutwork, and as Jack puts in his usual bad-timing appearance to ask where the tablecloths go, Bessie says, "Joey, I'm really sorry my baby and I are cramping your style. Why don't you go home? Jack and I have it covered." Joey juts out her jaw, Jack looks at her warily, and Joey splits.
An ad for yet another madcap Adam Sandler movie that looks hilarious. Oh, wait -- no, it totally doesn't.
Fade up to the Icehouse again with Bessie and Jack slaving away in those brightly-colored shirts unique to the food service industry, and Pacey comes in fresh from yet another raid on Kramer's closet wearing a beige polyester-ish shirt with brown psychotic pineapples on it and Jack McPhee tells him, "We're closed," and Pacey says, "Listen, could I just get a cup of coffee, man? I'm desperate." Well, I think he said "desperate" but it sounded more like "Desiree." As Jack pours him a cuppa cuppa, Pacey asks, "You're Andie's brother, right? I'm Pacey," as if Andie hadn't regaled the family with Pacey horror stories every day since they moved to Capeside, and then Pacey asks, "Listen, is your sister on any medication, 'cause she just went completely ballistic on me," and Pacey, wake up and smell the dexedrine, and Jack laughs and hands him a mug and says, "Why, what'd you do to her?" Pacey: "Nothing -- I just -- called her a spoiled princess, she goes psycho. I guess the truth hurts sometimes." Jack, wiping the counter: "Andie a spoiled princess -- I don't think anything could be further from the truth." Pacey, all self-righteous: "Oh, come on - don't try and tell me your family's not totally loaded." Um, Pacey? Give me a break with the inappropriate reverse-classist comments, okay, because the last time I looked, your buddy Dawson had a few expensive toys in his room. Jack, impatient: "You think I'm working here for kicks?" Pacey, confused: "Yeah, but your sister drives a Saab, man, and all those nice clothes?" Jack, rueful: "Well, it's the last remains of a decaying dynasty." Pacey: "I don't get it." Um, Pacey? OBVIOUSLY. Jack says, "Look, there was a time when things were -- easy for us, I mean, relatively, but -- those days are -- over now -- look, I really don't want to get into this, um, just do me a favor. Give Andie a break, you know, she -- she deserves it." Pacey, chastened and embarrassed, nods to himself, and voila, the moment of revelation as Pacey thinks to himself, "I guess I misjudged her." If only the moment of revelation had actually REVEALED something...if only Jack would learn to SPIT IT OUT already...if only I, well, I don't know, CARED or something.
At another coffeehouse somewhere, the Faithless Hussy, who has her hair pulled back on the top and then flipped under in this bizarro "Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!" ponytail bouffant style, gets herself some java, massages her temple, and looks morosely at all the other swinging singles. Meanwhile, in a bar somewhere else, The Flash gets himself a brewsky, eyeballs a short blonde who pays him no mind, and looks morosely at all the other swinging singles. Wow, that whole "date night" idea looks really fun. Well, except for the "really fun" part.
Meanwhile, in the Sanctum Dawsonorum, Dawson sits at his desk while Jen lies on her stomach to maximize exposure of her utterly unalluring cleavage, with her legs crossed in the air and crypto-slutty chunky strappy heels on. Jen closes her notebook as Dawson stretches and says, "Aaalll right, we're done," and she says, "Finally, huh?" Jen then tries to slink off of the bed all Maggie-the-Cat but on the way to "graceful" she took a wrong turn at "ungainly" as she sort of thrashes over the side and onto her feet. She clomps over to Dawson holding up their plastic-covered report and says, "Mission accomplished," as part of her blue bra peeks out of the top of her blue dress, which as owen pointed out looks like she spilled coffee down one side. Then she leans her cleavage over Dawson's desk and says, "Ohhh my God, I am so exhausted I can barely see straight," as Dawson eyes her chest with foreboding and says, "Yeah, I feel like I've become one with this chair," and Jen makes a big show of laughing at his not-that-funny remark as she hunches her arms to push her breasts together even more, creating that unattractive phenomenon known as "butt-chest," in which over-torqued cleavage resembles a butt-crack. That 150-watt bulb over Dawson's head begins to sputter to life as Jen walks around behind his chair, trailing a hand through his hair on her way, and says, "A massage? Get rid of a little bit of that tension?" and rests her chin on his head while kneading his shoulders, and as Jenga pointed out, perhaps Jen could stand to ease up on the Sebastian Styling Mud. Dawson stammers, "Um, I'm, I'm, I'm cool," and Jen runs her hands down his arms and asks, "Are you sure?" and as the deer now firmly ensconced in the headlights says, "Yep," I wonder if someone couldn't hand Jen a harbormaster's schedule and point out that, in fact, THIS SHIP HAS ALREADY SAILED. Finally, Jen gives up on that angle and moves away, saying, "God, I am so beat," thus acknowledging the infinite number of times my best friend and I have looked at each other while watching this show and said either "dude, Jen is BEAT ACTION" or "dude, Jen is a BEAT SCENE," and she sort of limps over to Dawson's bed and tries in vain to arrange herself in a sexy pose while moaning, "I don't think I can even make it door." As I polish off my first bottle of Maalox and prepare to shotgun a second, Jen gnaws at her "big, red, moist" lower lip and asks in a little-girl-lost voice, "Do you mind if I just crash here for the night?" Dawson half-laughs and says, "Actually, yeah, I do," and CLANG, Maalox bottle number two hits the trashcan empty as Jen goofily and says, "What?" with her flabby breasts schlumping down the side of her torso like Glenn Close in that scene from "Basic Instinct," and Dawson repeats with an air of disbelief that exceeds only my own, "Yeah, I do mind. I think you should probably go home," and Jen plays her so-called trump card with, "Oh, what, so, so we can't hang out together anymore, is that it?" and Dawson doesn't want to offend her and protests, "No, absolutely we can hang out together, we just can't sleep together," and Jen oh-so-coyly gets off the bed and comes towards Dawson with the straps of her dress and bra starting to slip down and as I tear off another child-proof cap with my teeth, Jen protests too much, "Whoa, calm down, Dawson, God, I was just asking if I could crash at your house -- nobody said anything about sleeping together."
Dawson makes a "yeah, right" face as Jen seats herself carefully on the edge of the desk (visible in the background to her head: Dawson's "Misery" poster) and says, "I know what it is -- it's Joey, isn't it, she's been putting ideas in your head about me," as Dawson makes yet another face of great incredulity and says, "No, Jen, Joey is not putting any ideas in my head [something I didn't catch], I'm not oblivious." Jen, hurt: "Meaning?" Dawson gets up and says, "Well, look at you" -- gesturing at her regrettable get-up -- "I mean, is this what you normally wear for a study session?" As Jen gapes at getting busted, Dawson goes on, "I mean, you've been making, you know, suggestive comments and touching me all night, and I've been trying --" and Jen gets up and interrupts, "Dawson, if you can't handle being in the same room with me --" and Dawson interrupts her, "I can handle being in the same room with you, I just can't handle you throwing yourself at me every other second. I mean, don't you find it humiliating?" like, I can't handle it either, and also, YEAH, REALLY, and Jen wants to seem all superior and sophisticated, so she smiles and says, "I'm not humiliating anybody." Good evening, and welcome to the Department Of Keep Telling Yourself That. Jen continues loftily, "And I know that you're with Joey, and I accept that," and Dawson nods, but then Jen adds, "I just don't respect it" -- Dawson furrows his giant brows -- "and I don't mean this in a slutty, self-degrading sort of way, but I want to let you know that you've got options. And I'm one of them." Pardon me while I fall on my knees and pray in the name of all that is holy for this intestinal rupture to end, since I have now downed all the Maalox in the 212 area code. Dawson blinks hard and says, "Who are you? What happened to Jen?" and Jen says, "She got bored, decided to liven things up a bit," and leans in to Dawson's nonplused face for a kiss and clamps his head to hers even though he doesn't close his eyes or respond AT ALL, and then she struts to the door of his room with her arms held out at a weird angle from her barrel of a body, turns around, and says, "I hope you can handle it, Dawson," in a tone of voice that tried for "sex kitten" but took a wrong turn at "kitten that got drowned in a boot," before going out into the hall and leaning against a wall and closing her eyes in total defeat, and I hope Dawson can handle it too, because I know I can't, and I will refer to a certain old saw about silk purses and sow's ears, just as soon I get off the phone with the organ transplant hotline regarding a new stomach.
The Flash and Gale get ready for bed. They lie to each other about what they did that evening; they get under the covers. Gale says, "I'm glad you had fun tonight, Mitch," before turning her back on him and closing her eyes. The Flash stares morosely into the darkness of their bedroom. Could someone please roll in the world's largest box of crayons and color me totally over this subplot? Thank you.
On the front porch of Bessie's Bastard Barn, Joey leans her head pensively on her hand as Bessie's accursed pick-up pulls up in front of the house. Joey, in a weird non-reference reference to the whereabouts of the boyfriend: "I was beginning to think you'd skipped town on me." Bessie: "Yeah, I was up all night cleaning. Look, Joey, I need to talk to you -- things aren't working out for you and the Icehouse so, you're fired." Joey objects. Bessie says she doesn't think Joey should work there anymore. Joey says Bessie can't fire her. Bessie says, "Yes I can, and I am." Joey expresses guilt and remorse for the things she said and says she didn't mean them, but Bessie says, "Yes you did. Joey, you were right, I'm -- I'm in way over my head, I live in total chaos," and again I say, take a number, sister, but Bessie doesn't want Joey to have deal with it or to rob Joey of her childhood, "having fun and being young, not burdened with all my messes. It's not fair. It's not fair to you, and I'm sorry." Snaps to Bessie for acknowledging that Joey has way more crap to deal with than the average fifteen-year-old. Joey then refuses to accept her firing, telling Bessie that she thinks of the two of them as a team, which makes Bessie's problems her problems too, and that she loves Bessie and Alexander the bundle of shame and doesn't want Bessie "to feel like [she's] in this alone." Bessie: "Yeah, but you're my little sister. I'm supposed to be taking care of you." Joey: "You do. God, you do take care of me, Bessie," and snaps to Joey for acknowledging that without Bessie her butt would have landed in foster care years ago. Bessie says that one day she will get her act together and make Joey proud of her, and Joey says that she already is proud of Bessie, and they hug, and call me a softie, but I found this scene not only refreshingly low-key and realistic but also somewhat touching. And now, back to our regularly scheduled dose of vitriol.
Cut to class that morning, where the kids have to hand in their assignment. The camera pans across the classroom and over the various facial expressions of Joey (leafing studiously through her notebook), Dawson (unexcited and lantern-jawed), the same-sex-couple meatheads (pleased with themselves), Andie (apprehensive), Kenny (pondering vengeance), Jen (pre-crying), and Abby (scheming) as the teacher drones on about what he hopes they have learned. As they pass their assignments to the front, the same-sex couple describes their wedding; Kenny rats Abby out for not helping (go Kenny) while one of the meatheads mocks him and Abby protests; and Andie turns in her half since Pacey hasn't shown up to class yet, giving a feeble explanation based on her theory that "marriage is a fifty-fifty proposition," and -- but soft! What Monkey Boy through yonder doorway breaks? 'Tis Pacey, completed and Kinko'ed project in hand, and the teacher says said project looks "quite comprehensive." Whatever.
Cut to Capeside High exterior. Dawson is "so glad that project is over," but Joey "kind of liked the assignment," to which Dawson responds, "You did, didn't you?" like, buck up, little camper! Dawson gives Joey some guff about "Joey Potter climbs the ladder of corporate America" and then pulls her in for a kiss, and can someone please clue Dawson in that condescending to the little woman does NOT equal foreplay? Abby and Jen pass by and Abby tells them, and I admiringly quote, "Get a room." Joey asks, "What was that all about?" and Dawson says, "I have no idea," and any psych majors needing a textbook example of repression of unpleasant memories need look no farther. Pacey comes out the front door and Andie thanks him for "finishing the project." Pacey apologizes for his hissy of the day, saying, "I talked to your brother last night, and he explained to me that your family's not exactly the Rockefellers," and can I ask why this even matters? I mean, if I want a badly-written teen drama about class conflict, I'll rent The Outsiders, so enough already with the greasers-versus-Socs non-dramatic non-tension. Andie fails to call him on this, however, and accepts his apology, then asks if they ended up getting the sportscar. As they continue to bicker, we see a shot in the rearview mirror of a red convertible of a woman in sunglasses looking at Pacey, and as Pacey and Andie walk by, Tamara "Mary Kay LeTourneau" Jacobs eases her shades down and watches him go past, and memo to Tamara: try joining a dating service.