So, we pick up right where we left off, with Joey grinning madly at the camera. She narrates that she "totally could have gone to Paris." Sweet Mary. We're opening with a tedious voiceover? I thought I left those behind forever when The X-Files went off the air. At least Joey sounds oodles more chipper than either Mulder or Scully ever did. Of course, as far as I know, she's never had her sister abducted by aliens or shot to death in her apartment, nor has she been abducted by the government, had a chip placed in her neck, been given terminal nose cancer, or been mysteriously impregnated with a baby who can move things with his mind. Unless I missed that episode. Anyhoo, Joey explains that she decided not to max out her only credit card. There's a very odd cut here, from Joey's grinning freeze-frame from the season finale to an image of her sitting on the dock in Capeside. It's like a stylized, zig-zaggy screen wipe type thing, and it's really a bit strange for this particular show. "Screw that!" Joey chirps, re: the maxing out of the credit card. Then she squeals that she decided on the pleasures of "a relatively angst-free summer in Capeside" instead of a summer waltzing around Gay Paree. This cues the montage of the Summer of Joey, which seems to have consisted of reading on the dock, waiting tables at the yacht club and flirting with a fellow waiter. Can this voiceover end now? Because it's boring. And she sounds so bizarrely perky. It's scaring me. We cut to a scene of Joey and the Waiter eating ice cream and grinning at each other. "I think I'm in love with you," Waiter Boy says. The Summer of Joey music ends with a Needle-Being-Pulled-Off-The-Record type sound affect. Wait, I thought they cancelled Ally McBeal. Cut to a shot of Joey sprawled in a deck chair. "I know, poor Joey Potter! Cute boy falls in love with her! How tragic! But it was! A completely inappropriate display! Of affection!" Joey squeals perkily. Did they up her meds over the summer? Sitting on the deck chair, she examines a postcard from Hollywood, explaining that Pacey and Audrey "pretty much kicked LA's ass." This is followed by an enormously cheesy shot of Pacey and Audrey sitting in a convertible in front of a blue screen. Stock footage of Los Angeles plays behind them as they bop their heads around.
Cut to Jack. Poor Jack. After a summer of luuuurve, Not So Ambiguously Gay Anymore Eric dumped him. "For someone far younger and prettier than himself. By email, no less," Joey narrates, as the text of said email scans across poor Jack's pretty face and his newly darkened, somewhat spiky hair. The email reads: "Dear Jack, I had so much fun hanging out with you this summer. The beach, the gym, all were special because of you." Apparently, Not So Ambiguously Gay Eric is also no literary giant. According to Joey, Jack eventually got over it and decided to just start sleeping around. She doesn't exactly put it that way, but we're treated to several shots of Jack surreptitiously shooing boys out of the house while Grams is looking the other direction. I think that's what happened, anyway. I was sort of distracted by Kerr's newly buff arms.
Joey continues the never-ending narration, telling us that Jen's parents sat her down in the Hamptons and told her they were getting a divorce. "She was happy," Joey says. "Really, truly, happy. She thought it was the most functional thing her parents had ever done." This prompts a shot of Jen grinning goofily at her parents. Or, rather, the back of the two stand-ins they got to play her parents, as there was no way the Powers That Be were going to pony up the cash for Hope to come back for one second to play Jen's mother. Joey explains that Jen went on to have the best summer of her young life. Blah, blah, blah. Let's get to the action!
And then there was Dawson. Joey gazes moonily at a black and white photo of the Beek (snapped back when he had a full head of hair) before sticking it into the place of honor in her corkboard, all the while simpering that after all the gross kissy-poo action at the airport, she and Dawson didn't talk to each other at all over the summer. "Which is weird, I guess, but at the same time not," she says, explaining that she just never got around to calling him. Well, there's true love for you. "But what Dawson said that night, it definitely rang true. My life is out there waiting for me, I know it is!" Joey says. " And what's really cool is that I have no idea what to expect. But whatever it is, I'm ready for it. I'm excited. Bring it on!" Joey cheers, then smiles cheerfully at her dorm room.
New credits (including Audrey), still singing the same old song.
So, Joey runs to class as an updated version of the theme song from The Mary Tyler Moore Show plays on the soundtrack and I fly into a murderous rage. I don't know what percentage of Dawson's Creek's audience has even seen The Mary Tyler Moore Show, but I've think I've seen nearly every episode, as my mother used to watch it every evening in syndication when I was a little girl. And let me just say that, as far as It goes, Mary Tyler Moore's Mary Richards just spanks Joey Potter. In all honesty, I can't say how much of that is Katie Holmes's fault. It just seems to me that the more the writers try to shove Joey's fantabulousness down the audience's throat, the more I want to vomit. And I used to like Joey -- remember when she smacked that jerk with her lunch tray? That was some It, right there. Anyway. Joey's all running to class and looking at her watch and I presume she's running late. By the way, I'm taking the fact that she's wearing a belt as a shout-out. In her haste, Joey smacks right into a man in shorts and flip-flops, knocking him to the ground. His briefcase goes flying. "You hit hard for a girl," Flip-Flops observes from the ground. "I'm so sorry," Joey says. "I'm late for something." For the record, she sounds more irritated than sorry. "Ever heard of an alarm?" Flip-Flops asks. "I said I was sorry!" Joey snits and stomps off. "Sorry's not going to unbruise my ass, now, is it?" Flip-Flops calls after her. I hear that "Unbruise My Ass" is the name of Toni Braxton's follow-up to "Unbreak My Heart."
Joey races past her most recent victim -- who I guess should just be grateful she didn't decide to serenade him -- and inside the building. She approaches an older woman in an anterior office and apologizes for her lateness. The older woman nods and tells Joey that "he's running a bit late himself." Surprising no one who's ever watched television, like, ever, "he" turns out to be Flip-Flops. I guess he's her advisor. Joey grimaces as he walks past her to get to his desk. "Fudge," she says.
Elsewhere on the Worthington campus, Pacey and Audrey pull up in front of the dorms and sit in the car in silence for a moment. Audrey's cut her hair -- it's just above her shoulders, a little choppy. It's really cute. And I'm certainly not saying that because I have a rather similar 'do. "We should probably wake him up," Audrey says, looking into the backseat. "Do we have to?" Pacey asks. He's got a new look, too -- the hair is curly and sort of mushroom-shaped, but not unattractive. And I like the goatee, although I generally don't go for the facial hair thing. Hey, it's been a long, dry summer. Pacey looks pretty good. They climb out of the car, Audrey expositing that she "grew up to the kid" and that he's not so bad, and his parents really want him to go to Worthington and I have two hours of this to do, so I'll spare you the setup because we all know that the sleeping kid in the backseat whose parents wanted him to go to Worthington is Jack "Stunt Casting Already?" Osbourne. There's some business about how Jack told Pacey that he saw Audrey "nekkid." Audrey looks skeptical. "He's never seen me naked," she says. "Really?" asks the goateeed one. "He knew about the tattoo." At this, Audrey bangs angrily on the roof of the car. "Wake up, you little perv!" she screeches. Jack shoots bolt upright. "Bleep," he says. Blah, blah, blah, he was spying on her with his telescope. Audrey screams that she's going to tell his father. Jack explains that Ozzy took a peek, too. Oh, ew. "Don't worry, he said really good things," Jack adds. Ew, part deux "Okay, then I'm telling your mother and she's going to kick your ass!" Audrey decides. Jack rolls his eyes and gets out of the car. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," he says, swears a few more times and then leaves. Jack Osbourne: the Olivier of our generation.
Audrey watches him go, then turns and kisses Pacey. "The end is nigh, my dear," she says. "What are you talking about, woman?" he asks. Audrey flails around, whining that "none of the great couples ever make it in the real world! Sid and Nancy, Bonnie and Clyde, Dawson and Joey! How do you ever expect us to have a fighting chance?" Oh, shut up, Audrey. Why don't you just take Daddy's credit card to Cranes, have engraved invitations drawn up and send one to Trouble? It'll be easier than this routine. Pacey rolls his eyes. "Okay, Stella Adler," he says, "what's wrong with you?" Audrey makes some pathetic noises about "the return to dull normalcy" and how watching everyone go through the banal motions of buying books and going to class is enough to make her want to "blow chunks." Pacey wisely ignores her histrionics and merely wonders why she's not heading back to class with the rest of them. Audrey pouts that nothing important ever happens on the first day of class anyway. Except for getting your syllabus and reading assignment so you're prepared for the session. I mean, I'm no stranger to ditching class, but I think it's generally a good idea to attend the first one if you can. Stupid Audrey. She reaches out and plays with Pacey's belt buckle. "Did you have a good summer, Pacey?" she babytalks. He hugs her and reassures her that he had a fantastic summer. He thanks her for introducing him to "[her] LA" and to her father, without whom, he exposits, he "wouldn't have a single job prospect." Apparently he impressed Mr. Liddel. Which bothers Audrey. Because she's rebellious and immature. "I don't want you to turn into some lame nine-to-fiver on me, Pacey," Audrey whines. And suddenly, I want to stab her. People need jobs, kid, and it's the height of rudeness to inform your partner that you don't want him to make a living and pay his bills because you think it's "lame" to be a responsible adult. Pacey seems to agree, as he makes a little face, which he quickly covers up. "Well, I'll try, Miss Liddel," he says, "but I do need a job. And it would be nice to have a little bit of disposable cash for a change." Thank you! Audrey refutes this fact, however, by pointing out that Boston has tons of free stuff to do! And it's especially fun if your Daddy pays your credit card bills! Pacey makes some noise about needing to stand on his own two feet for once. "Because the party can't last forever, baby," he tells her. Audrey pouts. "Blah blah, blah blah blah blah," she says. No, really. Those were the lines. "Will you bring my bags in?" she asks. Pacey agrees. Audrey runs off to do I know not what. Pacey makes a put upon face. Since when is he her valet?
Professor Flip-Flops's office. He pages through a file of some sort and chuckles as Joey takes a seat across from him and looks generally stricken. I sure hope he's laughing at her grades. And can I just say that she's had more troublesome professors in barely over a year of college than I had in four? Thank you. "What?" Joey finally asks petulantly. "I can't believe that you said 'fudge,'" Prof. Flip-Flops chuckles. He's a real jackass. I adore him. Joey sputters that it "just came out." Prof. Flip-Flops snorts that "it's just so silly. Even Doris, [his] secretary, has a harder core version of [his] favorite curse word." Silly Prof. Flip-Flops! Joey would never say a naughty curse word. "Doris is clearly a tough broad," Joey simpers, in a sad attempt to reestablish her It. Flip-Flops -- and that is clearly too benign a nickname for him. I'll have to find a new one. Be patient -- notices that the day is Ms. Potter's Natal Day. She whines that, yes, it is. "Big plans?" Flip-Flops asks. "No," she bitches. What? No parade through the heart of Boston in celebration of Joey Potter's birthday? No celebratory barge trip down the Charles River? How can this be? Surely, this is one of the first signs of an impending Apocalypse. Flip-Flops agrees that Joey doesn't have much to celebrate, seeing as her scholarship barely covers her tuition. But what about the wad of cash Dawson gave her? Was that just for her first -- oh, whatever. I totally don't even care. "Do you have a job? Are you looking for one?" Flip-Flops asks, telling her that they have an opening for a research assistant in the English department. "Are you interested?" he asks. "Sure, maybe," Joey offers weakly. Stupid Joey. Those jobs are practically impossible to get. Flip-Flops reiterates this, telling her that other students would murder each other for the gig. "Think about it," he says. She nods unenthusiastically. Paging through her files, Flip-Flops finds yet another problem: she's enrolled in his class. "It's a little advanced for a sophomore," he says. Joey smiles. "Obviously, you don't know me, Professor [Flip-Flops], because if you did, you'd know that my sophomore status is a total non-issue," she preens. Joey's arrogance: it's what's for dinner. Also, I've just noticed that her hair and her skin are the exact same orange color, one that never occurs in nature. I don't know what Katie Holmes did to the hair and make-up people, but it must have been on a par with killing their mothers and burning down their homes because Joey really doesn't look anywhere near as pretty as I think Katie Holmes actually is. Anyway, she tells Flip-Flops that she's already read most of the books on the reading list. "How about Last Exit to Brooklyn?" Flip-Flops asks. Whoops. Except that one. Flip-Flops cuts a deal: she reads it before the first class meeting and he'll try to forget that she's "just a lowly sophomore." Joey agrees cheerfully…then realizes that the class meets at 3 PM that very day. Flip-Flops raises a brow. "Yeah, what's your point?" he asks. Joey looks at her lap. "Nothing. Forget it," she says. Amateur. Last Exit to Brooklyn is barely 300 pages. It's clearly first thing in the morning (what with the alarm clock reference and because, in the scene, people are eating breakfast), which gives Joey at least 5 hours to read the book. She can get at least half of it, and then read and skim enough of the rest to fake it. It's called "cramming," Princess. Look into it.
Chung-chung over to Casa Grams, where La Grams is packing a lunch and La Lindley is wandering into the kitchen for breakfast, which, judging from how skinny Michelle Williams looks, is probably the first meal Jen's had in weeks. Michelle, Michelle, Michelle. You are so cute. Please, back away from the lollipop thing and have a sandwich. Because the super skinny look is so 2000, even if the Dawson's Creek set hasn't yet received that memo. "Grams, have I ever told you you're my hero? That you're everything I've ever wanted to be?" Jen asks. Is she stoned? Grams, not realizing that her grandchild's clock radio woke her up with a selection from Bette Midler's Greatest Hits, thinks this is a very nice sentiment. Jen blathers on and on about how happy she is with her life for like the first time ever. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm generally a dour sort," she says, pouring a cup of coffee. Grams wraps a sandwich in tinfoil and mutters that she wasn't aware of this. Jen continues to blather and yammer about her newfound happiness and I really do think she might be stoned, except for the fact that she hasn't yet called Grams "dude." Speaking of Grams, the poor woman is clearly trying to get a word in edgewise, but it's a no go. Jen is still flapping her maw. "You know what I think it is?" she asks. "I think that the dissolution of the Lindley marriage has actually restored my faith in humanity." Grams rolls her eyes, bless her. "If those two loons can take steps to improve the quality of their lives and the lives of those around them, then anything is possible," Jen finally finishes. Grams just stares at her. "What?" Jen asks. "What's happened to my granddaughter?" Grams asks. "If you've eaten her, I want you to spit her out this instant." Oh, sweet Grams. Clearly this young lady hasn't eaten anything in weeks. Jen just smiles, as the phone rings. Grams answers it, and begins cooing to Clifton
Smalls. I love that Grams has a boyfriend. In fact, I just love Grams. In many ways, I wish this show featured only Pacey, Jack and Grams. They could call it Two Guys and a Grandma. Jen could be a recurring guest star. Anyway, Grams is making plans with her boyfriend for later on, and Jen wanders out into the foyer, where Jack is waiting for a safe moment to hustle his latest conquest out the door. The young man in question has a ponytail, which is horrifying to me. Jen waves them out the door, and smiles. What is up with her hair? Her face looks lovely -- I think she had her brows reshaped, or something -- but the hair is very, very, wrong. It's sort of like Barbie Goes to Hell.
Back at Worthington School for Refined Young Ladies, Pacey lies on Audrey's bed and looks exhausted. Enter Joey. He rubs his face, wearily. "Hey, you!" Joey says, enthusiastically. Because who isn't enthusiastic when they find Pacey Witter waiting in their bedroom when they get home from a rough day? Or, you know, so I've heard. Pacey peels himself off the bed. "No matter what happens in the sixty seconds," he says, "no matter what I say or what I do, you do not want me to crash here." Audrey flings the door open and Pacey plasters a smile on his face. "Hi!" he chirps. The girls embrace. "My nemesis. Welcome back," Joey says. Hee. After an appropriate amount of cheerful chirping, Audrey asks if Pacey can crash with them for a couple of days. Pacey shoots Joey a big, fake smile. Joey hems and haws and blathers about how it's really not a good time, since she has a lot of work to do, and also Pacey is really just like a big child who needs a lot of attention and is really just impossible on all fronts. Pacey looks a little perturbed by Joey's all too enthusiastic rejection. "I'm sorry, I can't be party to it," Joey finishes. Audrey shrugs and informs Pacey that it seems as though he'll be shacking up at Grams's. "Well, that's just great," Pacey spits. "You know, after all we've been through together, Joey, I thought you'd be cooler about this. I'm actually a little hurt." Joey's eyes widen. "Well, since you put it that way," she begins. "No!" Pacey jumps in. "No, no, no. Don't you try to wheedle your way out of this. The damage is done. Let's go, Liddel," he says. Audrey turns on her way out the door and asks Joey if they have anything planned for that evening. "Well, we could go out and celebrate," Joey suggests. Audrey takes this to mean that Joey wants to celebrate Audrey's return to Worthington. "Sure. Because what else could we possibly be celebrating?" Joey simpers. "Obviously," Audrey agrees and she and Pacey leave. Joey's face falls. Joey? Your birthday is TOMORROW. It's not necessary to get all honked up about people not recognizing your birthday until it's, you know, actually your birthday. Anyway, Little Miss I Can't Believe No One Arranged For a Week Long Festival in Celebration of My Birth settles down on her bed with Last Exit to Brooklyn and starts to read. The phone rings. She lets it go to the machine. It's Big Head. I want to die. I want to die. I know what's coming and I want to die. "Joey, hey, it's me, Dawson. Long time no talk, huh?" Dawson says. Joey looks at the machine. I don't know what expression Katie Holmes was going for here, but she landed on "abject horror." The music starts up in the background and I know it's supposed to be the Twinkly Soulmate Suite in D, or something, but it actually sounds more like the theme from Halloween, which, now that I think about it, is quite fitting. Dawson yammers about how he's in town for the weekend and he'd like to meet her for coffee. In the background, Pretentious Director Todd (who hired and fired Dawson in last year's season premiere, and who Dawson ran into at the airport in the season finale) screams at Dawson. The Beek hurriedly gives the address of a coffeehouse and tells Joey to meet him at two if she can. He hangs up. Joey looks at her watch. Then at her book. Then her watch. She shakes her head, heaves a ginormous sigh, bites her lips and finally gets up and goes.
Grams's. Jack sits on the sofa, playing Madden 2002. Pacey runs down the stairs, wearing a slick dark suit. "What do you think?" he asks, holding his arms out for Jack's inspection. "It looks better on you than it does on me, actually," Jack tells him. Pacey wonders if the suit is too flashy. "What's the job, again?" Jack asks. Kerr Smith and Joshua Jackson really do have excellent chemistry together. I don't mean that in a HoYay way -- not that there's anything wrong with that! -- but just that they're very believable as friends, and their scenes together are consistently entertaining. "Selling stocks," Pacey explains. Because apparently it's still 1998 in Boston. Jack -- and the rest of North America -- wonders what the hell Pacey knows about selling stocks. "Nothing," Pacey says. "But Audrey's father thinks I'd be good at it." Um, shouldn't a stockbroker know something about, like, math? And didn't Pacey almost fail math? Never mind. Clearly, I should not be concerning myself with such details. Jack snarks that Pacey is certainly obnoxious enough to be a stockbroker. Pacey sarcastically thanks him and takes a seat on the sofa. They stare at the TV. "So, this is life at Grams's, huh?" Pacey asks glumly. Oh, boys. Enjoy living in a nice, neat house with a fully stocked fridge and a clean bathroom as long as you can. Jack sighs that Life With Grams is pretty "lame." Pacey comments that he was going to say that it was "quaint," but "lame" pretty much covers it. Jack complains that living with Grams also makes it tough to, you know, get, er, intimate with a young man. "You probably don't want to hear anymore," he says. "Oh, don't censor yourself," Pacey tells him. "I am nothing if not a card-carrying friend of the gays." Wait, Jack is one of the gays? I had no idea. Jack just laughs. Blah, blah, blah, the boys discuss moving out of Grams's and into their own place together.
Jen walks into class and takes a seat. "Is this art history?" she asks, turning to the student to her. "Whoa!" she screams, when she gets a gander at said student, who turns out to be Grams. Everyone in class turns and gives them the hairy eyeball. "What are you doing here?" Jen squeals. "The same thing you are, dear," Grams retorts coolly. "What? You're in my class? Oh, this is so uncool," Jen says. Grams explains that she tried to tell Jen that morning, but that Jen was "prattling on and on" and Grams couldn't get a word in edgewise. Jen wonders faintly how this all possibly could have happened. Apparently, Grams attended one of Clifton's summer school classes and was reminded how much she enjoyed academia. Wow, this is just like the time Cindy Walsh enrolled at California University and Brenda was all embarrassed for about forty-five minutes and then went out and bought her mother a CU sweatshirt. "Great, so you're not only going to embarrass me into an early grave, you're also doing this for a man?" Jen hisses. "Jennifah, give me some credit," Grams asks. "I am doing this for myself." Jen plaintively wonders why Grams had to take art history, and suggests that she take a "nice little math class." In my experience, there is no such thing as a nice math class. Jen helpfully points out that using the math section of the brain can stave off Alzheimer's disease. Grams just shoots her a horrified look. Eventually, the professor ambles over and asks if he has to separate them. The rest of the class chuckles. Grams gives Jen a very dirty look.
Time for Boring Subplot B. Pacey walks into an apartment building, looking at a Post-It. Because looking for an apartment is so riveting in real life that we all want to relive it on television as much as possible. Not to mention the fact that the outcome of this plot is so obvious that it's almost insulting to make us sit through it. Anyway. Pacey's checking out this apartment. The current resident is looking for roommates. Her name is Emma. She appears to be about 35, but I assume that's just hard living. She has a fake-sounding British accent and she doesn't want to live with boys. Especially boys who don't have jobs. In the real world, this would be the end of the story. But Pacey wails and moans that he's got a big interview and he's really nice and he'd be a great roommate and yadda yadda. There's some business about how Emma thinks she'd prefer living with these two buff lesbians who came by earlier, and I'm not going to go into that because, really, it's pretty stupid and vaguely stereotypical. She attempts, again, to show Pacey the door. Pacey wonders if she's rejecting him because of "the sexual tension thing." Pacey, she doesn't want to live with boys! Stop harassing her! I already hate Emma, but Pacey is being a total prat. He swears that he can "absolutely guarantee that" neither he nor Jack will fall in love with Emma, if that's what she's worried about. Emma's all, "thanks a lot, jackass," and tries, again to kick him out. All the way to the door, Pacey blathers that he didn't mean it that way, and, see, Jack is gay and he, Pacey, he has a girlfriend and blah blah blah, Emma slams the door in his face. Yawn. Clearly, they're going to live together. Why do we have to go through all this faux-suspense about something as fundamentally banal as finding an apartment? Wouldn't it be more interesting -- or, at least, potentially humorous -- for Pacey to find a great place to live, but have problems convincing Jack to move in or reassuring Audrey that his living with a female roommate is no big deal? At least that would be conflict with, you know, other regular characters as opposed to trumped-up altercations with strangers that the audience doesn't give a shit about anyway.
Cut to Jack and Jen in their class. She mutters out of the corner of her mouth that Grams is probably in this class, too. Jack doesn't think that "the History of Pop Culture" is "Grams's speed." Jen is yammering something when the professor takes the lectern and she and Jack both drop their jaws. Because he's pretty hot, in a Super Hard Body Soap Opera Star kind of way. Which is, um, fine with me. "Oh, he's beautiful," Jen sighs. "Yeah, what you said," Jack says. Ah, good times. I had a super hot professor once -- and when I say "super hot," I really mean "super hot." And young! When he came into class, I thought he was the TA. And brilliant. And, apparently, a scuzzbucket, because the quarter he was fired for sleeping with a multitude of co-eds in his office. Classy, no? Anyway. Where was I? Super Hot Professor. Drooling Jack and Jen. "Do you think he's gay?" Jen whispers. Because she does. Jacks sniffs that his gaydar bites. No kidding. People in the space station could tell that Ambiguously Gay Eric wasn't so Ambiguous before Jack did. "How much do you want to bet?" Jen asks "How about one million dollars?" Jack asks, doing the Dr. Evil Pinky Finger, but not the voice. "You're on," Jen says. Meanwhile, Prof. Hottie is yammering on about how he's just like them: "a pop culture junkie." Prof. Hottie explains to the class that his wife thinks he watches too much television. Jack gives Jen a significant look. "How do you want it?" she asks. "Hundreds," Jack says. "I'm all about the benjamins, baby." Hee. I forgot how much I enjoy non-angsty Jack.
Coffee Shop of Doom. Joey reads her book and waits for Dawson. Who, it appears, has stood her up. Eventually, she gets up and heads to class...
...arriving after the lecture has already started. And this is a small seminar, not a large lecture hall. Flip-Flops glares at her. Way to go, Potter. "Hello," Flip-Flops greets her. "How are you?" Joey has the good grace to look mortified. "Good," she squeaks. "Have a seat, please. Can we get you anything?" Flip-Flops needles her. Joey blushes and insists that she's fine. She takes a seat and he gets back to lecturing about Last Exit to Brooklyn. One second into the lecture and a cell phone rungs. Everyone checks his or her bags, but it's Joey's, of course. She just holds the ringing phone and looks guilty. "Well, if you can't make it stop, would you just answer it, already?" Flip-Flops asks irritably. Joey? It's called TURNING OFF YOUR PHONE. I know it's ringing. Just TURN IT OFF. They'll call back. "I don't want to be rude," Joey whimpers. Flip-Flops rolls his eyes and takes the phone from her. "You don't want to answer it? I will." Joey dies inside as Flip-Flops conducts a fairly lengthy conversation with Audrey, taking a message for Joey. He hands the phone back. "So, where were we?" he asks, turning to the class, and then back to Joey. "You know what?" he begins. "Before I forget, Joey, it turns out Dawson couldn't make it. He was a little crazed. But he wants to meet you and 'the gang' at Hell's Kitchen, say, 8:30." He smiles. Meanly. "Thanks," Joey whispers. She wants to die. And I know I'm old because I'm relating to the professor rather than with silly arrogant Joey. Stupid girl. When you're trying to convince the instructor to let you into a class even though you're not technically qualified to take it, the least you can do is show up on time and turn off your damn phone. Back to the lecture. "Any thoughts? Joey?" Flip-Flops asks. And then she has to tell him that she didn't read the book. Flip Flops is, understandably, somewhat irritated. "Joey. It's the first day of class, and already you've broken a promise," he says. She starts to stutter some excuse, but he stops her. "Action, Joey. Not excuses. Now, what did you think of what you did manage to read?" he asks. Now, I'm sorry, but that bit, at least, was fairly nice of him -- many people (including, I suspect, me) would have kicked her out of class after that point. Joey tucks her hair behind her ear and sighs. "I thought it was heartbreaking," she says. "I mean, the people, they're doomed. It's like a world where the sun never shines." That's a great mind at work, people. Flip-Flops just raises a brow and turns to Joey's fellow student, Oliver Hudson. I guess Oliver made some kind of "whatever" face that I missed, because Flip-Flops can tell that Oliver has an opposing viewpoint. By the way, I have never had a literature class in which the entire lecture was composed of "what did you think of the book?" And I took a fair number of literature classes. In an actual class, I think the question would be a little more specific. But I tend to forget that this is Dawson's Creek, not Studies in American Literature Via Television. Oliver demurs, but Flip-Flops presses for his take on the book. Turns out that Oliver's character is named Eddie. "I sense an opposing view point," Flip-Flops prompts him. Eddie says he just "feels like it's a little condescending to feel sorry for these people. I mean, who says there can't be beauty in a world where the sun doesn't shine?" Joey pouts in the background. "You've read the whole book, haven't you, Eddie?" Flip-Flops asks. Eddie admits that he has, "years ago," and dubs it "awesome." Flip-Flops remarks that Eddie has one up on Little Joey Potter, and heads back to his lecture. Joey shoots Eddie the look of death, which he deflates with a saucy little wink. They are so going to do it.
Cut to Hell's Kitchen, which I guess is the gang's new hangout. Pacey plays pool as Jack eats a burger. Hmmm, cheeseburgers. I'm hungry. Anyway, guess who's their waitress? No, guess! Yes! It's Emma -- or, as the forums have dubbed her, Emma, The Haughty Beer Wench. Pacey crows that this is a "sign!" Emma sighs that's more likely "an omen of bad things to come." I am already SO BORED by this plot line. Pacey mentions that he has a girlfriend twenty-five more times, pointing frantically at the irritated-looking Audrey. Emma just stares at him. Pacey implores Audrey to tell Emma that it would be okay for him to live with her. Like she's his mother. "I'm not telling her anything. She's hot." Audrey says. "Thank you," Emma says. "You're welcome," Audrey tells her. Jesus. This plot line is so tiresome. Clearly, they're going to live together! And, in the real world, if someone said, "I don't want to live with you," the other person would move on, rather than acting like a STALKER about an APARTMENT. But, no, Pacey will not let it go. Instead, he keeps on yammering, finally grabbing the chewing Jack to introduce him to Emma. "Jack's gay," Pacey announces. "He doesn't look very gay," Emma says. Emma has some ingrained stereotypes about the gay and lesbian community that I think she needs to work through. "Jack?" Pacey prompts. Jack grunts. "You?" Pacey asks. Grunt. "Gay?" Pacey says. "Oh, yeah," Jack confirms through a mouth full of beef. Er, so to speak. "Well, good for Jack then," Emma chirps. "So, we any closer to getting that apartment?" Pacey inquires hopefully. "No," Emma says. "I didn't think so," Pacey whimpers. Hee. Okay, that bit was cute. Why? Because Jack and Pacey work well together. And because Joshua Jackson is charming enough to pull off a plot line about someone basically harassing a total stranger about becoming her roommate.
Joey bralessly bounces down the street to Hell's Kitchen to meet her friends. She flashes her suddenly much whiter smile at them through the window, then heads inside. Everyone hugs. Hell's Kitchen is like Central Perk plus Cheers times a dark, dank alley divided by last season's Liberty Hell, including a little bit of the actual Hell. Squared.
Later, Joey and Pacey meet at the jukebox. She complains that it hasn't played her song yet. "Maybe the jukebox rejected it," Pacey says, "on the grounds that there's been enough whiny chick rock for one night, I think, pretty much." Personally, I simply don't believe that jukeboxes ought to contain any variation on whiny ovary music whatsoever. The jukebox is the sole domain of oldies, classic rock and Bon Jovi and that's really about it. Joey pouts. "Bite me," she whines. Pacey leans over and nips her upper arm. "Pacey, gross!" Joey squeals. He chuckles. Aw, that was a cute, if fifth-gradey, moment. Joey demands an explanation of the day's earlier dorm room shenanigans. "Do you remember our particular summer together?" he asks. Wow, I can't believe the writers remember their particular summer together. Joey indicates that she does. "Remember when we came back, we were all lovely-dovey and we didn't really want the summer to end, as such?" he asks. Joey grins. "Speak for yourself," she retorts. "But I do recall something to that effect." Pacey smiles down at her. "Let's say for the sake of argument that I am not at all unhappy that this summer is ending," he admits. Long story short: Hollywood Audrey is a little exhausting. Joey listens to this quietly, then tells Pacey that she has a bit of a conflict of interest. The part of her that is his good friend and "erstwhile paramour" thinks that "life's too short" and he needs to do what makes him happy. "Erstwhile Paramour" is the name of my Morrisey cover band. On the other hand, she says, the part of her that is Audrey's friend and roommate says, "you know what? You breaka her heart, I breaka your face." Joey pokes him in the chest. "You got it?" she asks. Pacey grimaces and rubs his left pec. He gets it. Joey grabs his hand and drags him into the corner to make out. Er, I mean, "back to the table."
"Any sign of him?" Joey asks her friends. "Godot Leery?" Audrey asks. No. And apparently it was like this all summer -- he was out of the house early and back super late. No one ever saw him. Well, such is the life of a peon in the film industry. Audrey further exposits that crazy director Todd hired Dawson as his assistant for the summer -- something I gathered from the fact that Todd was screaming at Dawson when he was leaving Joey a message. And Pander? Flipped out and left LA, leaving a note on Dawson's pillow that read "I'll see you in hell, Leery." Actually, that note was from me. "Didn't you talk to him at all?" Audrey asks. "[Pander]?" Joey asks, innocently. Audrey rolls her eyes and clarifies that she was talking about Dawson! Cut to a shot of Pacey examining his drink very carefully before darting a glance at Joey. Joey stammers that she kept meaning to call, but…everyone exchanges Meaningful Looks. Uncomfortable, Joey excuses herself to go back to the jukebox and "check on" her song.
Isn't this episode over yet? I think I just entered menopause. Over at the jukebox, a drunken customer is giving Emma lip. She's handling herself just fine, although, honestly, I don't care if this customer kidnaps Emma and sells her to the Sultan of Brunei at the end of the episode. Actually, that would be pretty interesting. Joey watches Emma tell the guy to shut his yap. "What are you looking at?" Drunkard asks Joey snippily. "Drunk guy with his fly open. What are you looking at?" she retorts. The Drunkard stumbles off, leaving Joey to yammer with Emma about the horrors of waiting tables, all of which ends with Emma offering Joey a job at Hell's Kitchen. Joey isn't sure what to do, since she has the other job offer from Flip-Flops. "Think about it, Joey," Emma says. That Joey Potter! Everywhere she goes, someone wants to hire her! I'd make a snide comment about how no one ever got a job on the strength of her snide commentary, but once I was shopping at this very cool used furniture store here in Los Angeles with my friend Joe, and Joe said something snotty to me, and I made a very cutting comment in return, the strength of which led the owner to offer me a job right there on the spot. He said he liked my sass. I didn't take the job, as I was already employed at the scenic Lu Valle Commons Bookstore at UCLA, but it was nice to be asked.
Anyway. Back at the table, Pacey announces that he needs to take off, seeing as he has his job interview in the morning. Audrey snits that he's a total "amateur." Pacey reiterates that he's simply got to get some rest. Audrey informs him that if she was looking to hire someone, she'd prefer a man who came into the interview "reeking of booze and sex." Dude, what is up with Audrey? Ooooh, I've got it. I bet her father is married to his job and she's scared of ending up in a similar relationship. Have I watched a lot of TV or what? Anyway, Pacey is all, " I have to get some sleep." Audrey pouts that she doesn't like this new Pacey. At all! "What happened to the Pacey of yore?" she whines. I hate to say this, because I think Busy Philips is a doll, but Audrey has become really, really, really grating. Like, grow up, Princess. People have to be responsible sometimes. Like, for example, maybe I wanted to go to the movies today. But I have to write my recap. It doesn't make me boring. It means I need to work. That's life. "The Pacey of yore just drove 3,000 miles in three days. Aren't you tired? Don't you have classes tomorrow?" Pacey asks. Audrey pouts that she has her priorities! Jack and Jen look at their respective laps as Pacey leaves and Audrey looks at her plate.
Outside the bar, Pacey walks down the street. Audrey comes tripping out of the bar and comes after him. Pacey, irritated, wonders how many more times he needs to explain that he wants to go to sleep! Audrey, by the way, has either the biggest zit I've ever seen on this show right in the middle of her forehead or she's growing a horn. The make-up people didn't do much to cover it up, either way. She tells Pacey that, in a minute, he'll be sorry he was so mean to her. "And you're going to feel like a jerk and I want to save you that pain." She digs around in her pocket and comes up with a room key to the most "ridiculously expensive hotel in Boston." She thought they should spend the last night of their summer vacation in style, she says. Pacey smiles at her. "After all the Motel Sixes, I thought it might be a nice change of pace, Pace." The Promise of Hot Love in Hotel Room Music swells in the background as Audrey promises that she'll let Pacey rest. "No sexual misconduct. Just hardcore REM sleep," she says. Pacey grins. "You're right," he says. "I feel like a jerk." He apologizes, explaining that he just wants to make a good impression in his interview, especially since her father went to so much trouble to arrange it. "Pacey, you're getting all serious on me," Audrey complains, and kisses him. Pacey looks vaguely disturbed by this comment, but gets over it before she comes up for air and suggests they go "rest." Pacey offers that maybe he doesn't need to be quite so strict about the whole resting thing. They skip off. I give them three weeks.
Back at the bar, Joey is outlining her job choices. A) Advance academic career or B) Become saucy bar maid making excellent tips? Jen doesn't think it's even a choice. "Joey Potter will always choose the sensible path. The sensible path in this case is working for Professor Crankypants," she says. And, therefore, Professor Flip-Flops becomes Professor Crankypants. In fact, I'm taking that as a preemptive, psychic shout-out. Jack thinks this is nicely put, but Joey is "shocked and appalled." She makes her mouth into a horrified little "o". "Is that what you think of me?" she asks. Jen assures her that they love her for it. No, they don't, but they're too nice to say so. Jen takes a final sip of her soda and announces that she has to bail. "Our Lady of Continuing Education wants to hit the bookstore bright and early, so I need to get some beauty rest," she says. Jack's leaving, too, but Joey says she's going to stick around. Jack and Jen laugh at her knowingly. "What?" she squeaks. "Nothing. I think it's cute," Jen lies kindly.
This cues up the Montage of the Pathetic Girl Waiting for Her Junior High Soulmate to Show Up. After a year and a half of mooning around, Joey leaves the bar, looking blue. I would be nervous about walking back to the dorms alone if I had Joey's history of being mugged, but, then again, I don't have the magical, lethal powers of the Carpenter's Greatest Hits at my disposal. As she's crossing the street, a taxi pulls up behind her and Dawson spills out, calling to her. She whips around, grinning madly. The Twinkly Psychotic Lover Music frenetically twangs in the background.
So, Dawson and Joey are practically the only people in the bar, drinking soda and smiling goofily at each other. "Guess what?" Dawson asks. "What?" Joey chirps. "Guess," Dawson repeats. Oh, shut up! "You're gay," Joey offers. I knew it!. "That, and I was on the phone with Steven Spielberg the other day," Dawson tells her. Blah, blah, blah, I so don't care about Dawson's Hollywood Shenanigans, unless they're of the "I met Michael Vartan and he asked me to tell Jessica that he wants to marry her Saturday" variety. Anyway, apparently the only thing that Dawson said to Le Spielberg was, like, "please hold" or something, and, really, that's how it should be because nothing gets you fired faster than acting like a crazed fan when your boss's Famous Business Associate calls. See, you act all cool on the phone, then, once you're out of earshot, you scream and giggle like a fool. Duh. Dawson tells Joey that he's awfully glad she waited for him. "You had to see me!" he jokes. Joey sarcastically tells him to get over himself, because she was just waiting to hear her song play on the stupid jukebox. Dawson gazes at her moonily. "You look really great," he tells her, explaining that he doesn't say complimentary things nearly enough. "Is this some player routine you workshopped in LA?" Joey asks. Dawson chuckles. "Can a guy not tell a girl she looks great without there being some kind of machination involved?" he asks. "Generally, no," Joey says. Dawson concedes the point. You know, this scene is kind of not totally sucky. I don't want to murder either one of them, nor do I want to turn the gun on myself. Yet. Dawson points out that "general rules do not apply to [them]." Joey smiles and wonders if she can ask him a question. Is it "when is this scene over?" Because I'd like to hear the answer to that one, too. "We didn't talk this summer, at all. Why was that?" she asks. Dawson sighs and tells her that that the quick answer is that he was really, really busy. Which is bullshit. When a boy tells you he was too busy to call, he just didn't want to call. People can always make time to whip out their cell phone for a five minute chat, even if it's just to say, "Hey, I'm swamped. Didn't want you to think I was blowing you off." Joey just looks at him. "That's not really it. Because I thought about you all the time," Dawson continues. "And about what you said. How everything would work out all right between us? It made me feel so good about us. I guess I just didn't want to ruin that feeling." Boys? A word to the wise. Not calling a girl for three months is a really, really good way to ruin whatever good feeling she might have for you. Joey, however, jumps right on board the S.S. Totally Stupid and agrees that "that makes a lot of sense, actually." In Bizarro world, maybe. "You know that that means?" she asks. "Dare I say we might be growing up?" Don't worry about it, sweetpea. You're both still mind-numbingly immature. Dawson mutters something about how sad it is to grow up, blah, blah, blah Peter Pancakes. Mmmmm, pancakes. "Sad but true," Joey agrees. And then they keep talking for like twenty more minutes. She tells Dawson that he's different, now. "A good different. Like living your dream agrees with you," she clarifies. Dawson demurs that he's not exactly living the dream. "You know what I mean," Joey says. "I do," Dawson says. I can't believe I'm saying this, but could they shut up and get to the sex? I just want to get it over with now.
After a long minute of gazing at each other, Dawson asks Joey about her summer. "You meet anyone special?" Joey shrugs. "No one worth mentioning. And you?" she asks. Dawson opens his mouth to say something, but Joey interrupts him with a loud and enthusiastic "finally!" The jukebox is playing her song. She does the tongue-sticky-outy smile at him and almost says something, but thinks better of it at the last minute. "What?" he asks. Joey blushes and explains that…oh, it's really nauseating. She doesn't say that, but believe me, it's true. Long gross story short, this song was playing on the radio the first time Dawson ever held her hand, during the summer between seventh and eighth grade. I'm not going to justify the Soulmates Since Elementary School Theme of this episode by saying any more than that. Also, I'd like the record to reflect that I want to barf. But Dawson gets up and asks her to dance. "Are you crazy?" she asks. "Yeah, but the offer still stands," he tells her. So they slow dance in the basically empty bar as the wait staff huddles in the corner and attempts to psychically will them to leave already. Dawson and Joey look dreamily over the other's shoulder and then pull back to stare into each other's eyes. Ew. Oh, God, ew. And it only gets worse.
Cut to Joey's room. She thanks him for walking her home. "No thanks necessary," Dawson says. "That's what I do." Bite me, Nostril Boy. Where were you in the Walking Joey Home department the night she got her ass mugged? Oh, that's right. You were directing your vanity project across town! Blah blah blah blah, Joey invites Dawson to crash for the night. Brace yourselves, my children. Because we all know what's coming. And it's not going to be pretty. In fact, it may be the most horrible thing any of us has ever seen in our young lives. I suggest those of you with delicate constitutions look away. Okay. Deep breath. I'm going in.
Okay. Got my booze. Got my blindfold. Got some knitting needles to jab into my eyeballs. 911 is cued up on speed dial. I've taken out my collection of early Ralph Fiennes photos (circa Quiz Show, back when he was hot and not playing serial killers all the time) in case I have to look at something that's not hideous. I have a bucket of bleach, a bucket of lye, and six gang members on call in case I need someone to beat me into unconsciousness. I think I'm ready. Joey goes into the bathroom to prepare, and finally emerges to find Dawson asleep on Audrey's bed. Okay, cut! Cut! Cut now, while we can all still get out alive! Joey looks disappointed as she climbs into her own bed. Didn't you hear me? Cut, cut! For the love of God, please cut! Cut now! Cut nooooooooooooow! But it's too late. Dawson wakes up. We're all doomed. "Joey, are you awake?" Dawson asks. She is, but tells him to go ahead and get some sleep. Yes! Yes! Listen to her, Dawson! Sleep! Sleeeeep. You're getting very sleepy. Verrrrrry sleeeeeppppy.
But no. No, I am doomed. I am doomed to suffer for all eternity. Instead, Dawson gets up and moves the little hand on the clock, so that it's after midnight. "What are you doing?" she asks. "Cheating," he tells her. "I can't wait anymore." For their lives to be over. He wants to know right now, what will it be: will it be "yes"? Or will it be, "sorry"? I want to go on record as really, really hoping that it's "sorry." Actually, he just wants to present Joey with her birthday gift. Joey is touched. "You're the only one who remembered," she sighs. Joey, you ignorant slut. How many times do I have to tell you that people haven't forgotten your birthday until they've neglected to wish you a happy birthday on your actual birthday? "Yeah, I'm good like that," Dawson says as she opens her present. . It's…a Hollywood Snow Globe. Aw, cheesy, and cheap but sort of cute. I like snow globes. Joey breathes that it's "perfect."
And now I have to look away. Because Dawson is talking about how Joey is like, his inspiration and crap, but all I hear is, "I'm about to have sex with you" and I really just want to die. Shut up! Shut! Up! Cut! Cut! For the love of all that is holy and true, please, please cut the scene now, please! Please, please! Please! Oh, I want to die. Anyway, I guess he's saying something about how she challenges him or some shit and there's all this lovely-dovey staring at each other and could this please end now? "You're with me everywhere I go," Dawson says. "Which is why I can go three months without calling you and still swoop back in expecting a little free booty." Staring. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. A world of ew. A universe of ew. Ew, infinity. "Happy Birthday," Dawson repeats. Joey sets the globe on her bedside table. They hug. He rubs her back creepily. Still hugging. Still hugging. Oh no. God, no. Please, God, no. Tinkly psychotic sex music starts and I have to look away. Katie Holmes looks like she's about to be executed by a firing squad. They gaze. I can't watch. Ew. Ew. Oh, God. Ew. Okay, so they kiss and then they have sex. I can't get into the details. I just can't. Please don't make me. Please, please, don't make me. Whatever I did to deserve this, I'm so sorry. Oh, God, why me? Why? Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhy? Oh, God, his hands are everywhere on her! AND I CAN'T FIND THE REMOTE! My eyes! My EYES! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Thus ends part one.