As an opening caveat: I hated this episode. I really, really hated it. If you're offended by yelling, screaming, vigorous swearing, or threats of serious and completely inappropriate violence, then you best steer clear. I haven't gotten this close to a pulmonary embolism while watching his show since Joey killed that guy with her song.
Previously on Dawson's Creek, Dawson, against all odds and despite the fact that he was just the director's assistant rather than the Assistant Director, was selected to direct the reshoots of The Worst Movie Ever Made, Seriously. CJ and Jen…whatever. Like anyone remembers anything that happened to Jen other than her extraordinarily terrible Little Dutch Boy haircut. Joey and Pacey flirted around the idea of getting back together, but wouldn't make out for reasons that are completely unclear and probably really stupid. Pacey met a woman at this stupid work party and I thought she was a Federal Agent investigating the shit that's clearly going on at Bobby Briggs's stupid stockbroking house, but now they're saying she's just a journalist, but no one cares about that stupid plot line anyway, so whatev.
Worthington School For Whatever. Pacey and Joey come in from dinner at a restaurant so nice that, according to Joey, they even had individual hand towels in the bathroom! Joey is apparently only used to establishments that force you to dry your hands on the back of your jeans. She chortles that Pacey "knows how to treat a lady." Pacey shrugs that he's got to spend his money on something, and then yammers that she's not, like, a possession or anything and blah blah cutesy blah, and finally he blurts out that he got a promotion at work and he got an office and a secretary and everything. Joey asks what he was promoted to, and Pacey tells her that he doesn't have a title. Like, that's not at all suspicious. This all rolls around to Joey admitting that she's strapped for cash because Liberty Hell's Kitchen cut her hours, since "everyone's on spring break and drinking elsewhere." Speaking of, Josephine, why aren't you off drinking elsewhere? Or, if you're not making any money at LHK, why don't you go home and see your poor overworked sister? Anyway, Pacey asks her if she's free for dinner the Saturday, and we're back into The Let's Gaze Into Each Other's Eyes And Act All Moony And Everything, But Not Kiss Or Anything, Like We're Amish Or Some Shit routine. "Anything for a free meal," Joey breathes. Pacey coos that he might "throw in a free dessert." And then he leans in to kiss her, and just like she did last week, she dodges his lips. I seriously have no idea why she's not kissing him. Kissing isn't like hostage negotiations. No lives are on the line. Likewise, kissing Pacey doesn't mean you're agreeing to marry him. It's just a kiss. What is wrong with the two of them? Anyway, she dodges him, and he says that's "his cue" and time to cut his losses. "Pacey, I had a lovely time," Joey offers. Pacey smiles and agrees that he did, too, and he kisses her hand and leaves. Joey makes a thoughtful face. I hate her. Not for any particular reason at this moment, but just generally. Possibly because I know that she acts inexcusably immature and horribly, unattractively bratty later in the episode.
After the credits, we cut to Grams's, where Jen and her incredibly hideous hair wake Blandy with a cup of coffee. Blandy sits up sleepily and wonders where Grams is. "She's downstairs, stirring porridge," Jen says. "Shall we then?" Blandy asks, gently taking hold of the waistband of her PJs and pulling her towards him. "Shall we what?" Jen asks. He tugs the pajamas and smiles. "Oh, shall we that," Jen translates, sounding as though he's just asked her to drown Grams in the Charles River. She shakes her head, and Blandy blinks sleepily. Jen explains that she isn't in the mood. "Who needs mood?" Blandy -- who really isn't as horribly bland now that he has his shirt off -- asks, leaning into kiss her. Like Joey in the scene before her, Jen turns her face away. "What?" Blandy asks. "Nothing a little toothpaste won't fix," Jen snips. "Fine, don't kiss me. See if I care," Blandy says mildly, lying back down. Jen informs him that he's not "sexy when he's pouting." Jen, you're not sexy with that haircut. Blandy takes an unopened box of condoms from the bed stand and points out that they haven't had sex in week. Jen rolls her eyes and snaps that she's "not a boy," and therefore doesn't have the kind of sex drive that he does. Which, for what it's worth, is kind of bullshit. The two of them might not have the same sex drive, but I don't think it has much to do with their genders. The whole Nice Girls Don't Want To Have Sex message in this episode really pisses me off. But I'll get to that. I don't want to work myself into a lather before the first commercial break.
Jen continues, saying that she doesn't want Grams to walk in on them. Which is a fair reason not to want to get it on. However, I then advise that Jen spend more time at Blandy's, or get her own place, or start having sex when Grams is at choir practice, because, um, Grams lives there. That's a constant. Blandy sighs. "Wow, then it is true what they say. Once you start dating, the sex goes right out the window," he says. Which is also, by the way, bullshit. Besides, the old hacky joke is that sex disappears when you get married, not when you start dating. If you're going to be shoving antiquated notions of sexuality down my throat, at least get your antiquated facts straight. Jen tells Blandy that he's being a total drama queen, and he just chuckles. "You know, there are other ways to be intimate," Jen says and The Wocka Chicka Wocka Chicka Blow Job Music gets going on the soundtrack as Blandy is all, "Bring it on," and opens the blankets to her and she crawls in to cuddle, curling up on his chest. Blandy rubs her back and sighs that she was talking about "snuggling." Jen squeezes her eyes shut. "What did you think I was talking about?" she asks. "Nothing," Blandy says. Jen closes her eyes and I'm sorry, but that Girls Want To Snuggle, Boys Want Blow Jobs double standard is crap, pure and simple. I mean, I'm not anti-snuggle, by any means, but I certainly am not in favor of snuggling as a substitute for sex. The two aren't mutually exclusive, you know. You can enjoy both, without being, like, a freak. I'd like to just know why none of the women on this show is allowed to have a satisfying sex life, one where her partner doesn't run out on her, or cheat on her, or bore her, or drive her to alcoholism? Can't someone on this show just have sex and enjoy it and be okay with it? ["No." -- Sars] Please note that I'm not saying that Jen isn't allowed to turn it down once in a while. Everyone's not in the mood sometimes. But she should be able to say, "I don't feel like it, honey," and leave it at that, without any of this I'm A Girl And Girls Don't Want Sex idiocy.
Speaking of idiocy, let's revisit Pacey's horribly paced stockbroker plotline. He and Joey walk in to work together, and all of the men in the office act like they've been marooned on a desert island for twenty years and Joey is the first woman they've seen since their rescue. Seriously, they're gawking and drooling and falling over and dropping things. And, honestly, she doesn't look all that good. If I had vitriol to spare, this is where I'd put my weekly screed about how utterly craptastical her hair looks, but I blow my vitriolic wad later in the recap. Anyway, Pacey introduces Joey to his assistant, who informs him that Bobby Briggs has just fired her.
Pacey furrows his brow at this, and he and Joey go into the office, where Bobby is waiting for them. Bobby's first words are, "Who's the looker?" like, who acts like that in 2003? No one. In even the most old-school, old-boys'-club-type company, this kind of behavior would be quashed, but quick. Have none of the writers ever worked in an office? Anyway, Joey acts all offended, so Bobby assures her that it was a compliment. Pacey makes the introductions and asks Bobby why he got rid of his secretary. Bobby explains that he didn't like "her attitude or the cut of her jib." Joey is incredulous that Bobby can fire someone because he doesn't like the way she looks. "Isn't that discrimination?" she asks. Bobby sneers at her. "What is she, human resources?" he asks. Dude, you better be damned glad that she's not. And look, I get that we're not supposed to like Bobby Briggs or anything, but this is so unsubtle. Why don't they just include a scene where he sacrifices and eats a baby and then burns down an orphanage? Bobby asks Joey why she's not in school, and Joey reiterates that she's on spring break. "And what do you do, nine to five, Johnny [sic]?" he asks. Blah blah blah, thing you know Joey agrees to fill in for Pacey's secretary. Snore.
Speaking of snoring, we cut to Dawson. "It's about a lot of things, but more than anything, it's about what it's like to feel fifteen," he tells Executive Barbie Whitney, over here in sunny and apparently soulless Hollywood. (It is sunny, I'll give them that. But the soulless claims are overstated.) Apparently, El Cabeza is pitching Creek Daze. Again. Hasn't he made this movie twelve times? There's nothing I can say that can adequately describe how much I hate Dawson's filmmaker plotline, if only because these segments make the writers seem like they've never even worked in Hollywood. Also, it's boring. Blah blah blah teenager blah blah blah "I want to direct it" yadda yadda yadda, thank God there are only seven more episodes because I'm about ready to smash my cranium through the television. Whitney diplomatically tells Dawson that she likes the fact that he's got "great passion" for his project. She then wrinkles her nose and tells him that the story is "a little soft." She explains that this company was built on exploitation. Apparently, studio head and erstwhile Breakfast Club disciplinarian Larry "learned everything he knows from Roger Corman." Hey, Roger Corman just fired a friend of mine! Anyway, she suggests that Dawson include "more boobs" in his pitch. Whitney tells Dawson that Larry is "a world-class pervert, "on his third wife. And I'd like to tell Dawson that if he doesn't want to make a teen sex comedy, maybe he ought to pitch his project to someone who doesn't make movies inspired by Roger Corman. Whatever happened to knowing your audience? Take your project to people who are willing to make what you're selling! And for that matter, shouldn't Dawson have an agent or a manager, guiding him as far as this goes? This plot is so dumb! If Dawson specifically wants Larry to buy his pitch, he needs to pitch him something he'll want to buy. If he wants to sell this movie specifically, then he ought to try selling it to someone else! There are plenty of studios and production companies in town. Either pound the pavement with your little vanity project, or make what the studio wants you to make until you have the money and the clout to make your own project, Dawson, you naïve idiot. Also, shut up.
Anyway, Dawson simpers that it must be terrible to work in such an uncomfortable environment, and this leads somehow to a discussion of Whitney's breast implants. Because everyone in Hollywood has fake boobs, haven't you heard? In fact, if I don't get some before the end of the month, I will be legally exiled from Los Angeles county. "If you want to make a movie with us, find a way to tell the story while appealing to the lowest common denominator," Whitney repeats. Please note that she says, "with us." This isn't the only way for Dawson to sell this script, although it might be the only way for him to sell it at this very moment. Whitney advises Dawson to throw in "a stripper, a three-way, or an affair with a teacher or something." Dawson makes a thoughtful face. "I can do that," he says, as his eyes light up at the thought of Ta-MAH-ra Jacobs.
Back to Boston and the This Show Is Clearly Beyond Helpline. Jen answers the phone on her desk, and I seriously want to cry, her hair is that awful. She should sue. "Are you sure that that's actually a problem?" she says to the caller. "Because, speaking as a girl whose boyfriend wants to copulate every waking moment of the day, I would actually welcome the break." Blandy looks up at her. Oh my God. Flames. Flames on the side of my face. First of all, what kind of bitch second-guesses someone's problem when she's working on the Helpline, for pete's sake? Second, who then has the gall to use that person's problem to passive-aggressively air her own dirty laundry? If you have a problem with your sex life, you idiot, then talk to your boyfriend about it honestly, and do your job properly. This entire episode should be subtitled "Jen And Joey Have Incredibly Bad Work Ethics." "It's a little exhausting," she twitters. "This position, that position. You want my legs where? I can't even wear a skirt anymore, without him taking it as an invitation for him to hike it up." With a perturbed look, Blandy gets up and leaves. I think Jen's the one who needs to call the Helpline.
Brokerage of Boredom. In the copy room, some snot congratulates Pacey for landing such a hot secretary. Who are these people? Is this company stocked solely by recent parolees? "Nicely done, Witter. Nicely done indeed," the snot drawls. I'm going to take that as a shout-out, because Heathen and I use that construct all the time. Anyway, Pacey goes to find Joey and finds her at her desk, surrounded by a bunch of twittering bints in suits, like Scarlett O'Hara at Ashley Wilkes's barbecue. Why is her presence there so revolutionary? She honestly doesn't even look that hot. I think Katie Holmes is extremely cute, but they almost ugly her up on this show. She's certainly not attractive enough to render every man in this office totally gobsmacked. This show could not get more unrealistic if Joey was abducted by aliens, had her ova stolen and stored in a lock box in the Pentagon, and was given inoperable nose cancer before giving birth to a miracle baby who just might be the Messiah. "That really wasn't that bad," the Scully action figure comments.
At last, Pacey cuts a swath through the idiots and asks Joey if they're bothering her. "No. They may be trying to, but I can't tell. Did any of you go to college?" she asks. What does that have to do with anything? I know as many irritating college graduates as I do non-college graduates. Someone really ought to remind Joey that her last boyfriend -- you know, Oliver, the one she was all in love with before Pacey lost the goatee -- didn't go to college, either. And neither did Pacey! God! Anyway, Pacey informs the crowd that Joey is his secretary, and she affixes him with the dirtiest look. "Office temp," he corrects himself, and tells them that she's not going to be there long, so none of them should get attached.
He goes into his office and starts playing with his balls. Oh, man! That joke was really bad. I'm so sorry. It's one of those desk toys with all those hanging ball things, and you move one and they all swing back and forth? Oh, you know what I mean. Joey tells him that it's his "office-warming gift." He thanks her, and Joey smirks that she's "the best assistant ever." Pacey agrees, but nicely tells her that she forgot to make the coffee. "Well, you were a chef, right? You can make it yourself," Joey chirps. Except for the part where it's, you know, your job, Josephine. Pacey just agrees, though, and hands her a file to take to "Tom." Joey? You're an assistant. Sometimes, assistants make coffee. You know what else? I'm not an assistant, and sometimes I make coffee. People want coffee. The coffee must be made. And, um, you're a waitress. Surely you don't find serving beverages inherently distasteful. As she leaves, Bobby Briggs slithers in and drools that he doesn't think Pacey ought to look for a replacement for Joey. Pacey informs Bobby that, first of all, Joey is in school, and second of all, she's "unavailable." Bobby just smirks. "She's my friend, which makes it a little awkward in telling her what to do," Pacey finally admits. Outside, Joey slides back into her seat, just in time to overhear Bobby Briggs telling Pacey that he's being interviewed that day by "some chick from the financial section." Apparently, this "broad" is particularly interested in Pacey's rapid rise to the top. Bobby then leaves, just so Joey can come in and announce that it's part of her job to eavesdrop, and then passive-aggressively make semi-jealous comments about this reporter woman. She's a REPORTER. It's her JOB to interview people. It doesn't mean she wants to bone him, Joey.
Boston Bay College. Jen catches up with Blandy, who's getting some coffee from a kiosk. She asks if he got her one; he didn't. "Way to be a boyfriend," she snarls. "Yeah, right, good one, Jen," Blandy says quietly. Man, Michelle Williams has gotten skinny. She looks like she's going to blow away. Jen awkwardly attempts to make small talk, wondering if the "C" in "CJ" stands for "crabby." She then wonders what's wrong with him. Is she deranged? Blandy informs her that he doesn't like her using their problems in the bedroom to help people. "Well, first of all, I wasn't aware that we had problems in the bedroom," Jen begins. I just paused the tape here, and Blandy and I have the exact same expression on our faces: totally furrowed brows. DOES JEN HAVE AMNESIA? She just told the poor schmo on the helpline that she does!
"Second of all, why not?" she asks. Because it's personal, you twit! It's no one's business, and it's bad form. The people who call the helpline don't care about your problems. That's not why they're calling. "Wait, is this about sex?" she finally asks him. Jen apparently was abducted by aliens, because how could she not know that? "Pretty much, yeah," Blandy says. "Look, if what you told me about your past is true, then I guess what I don't understand is why the creeps and scumbags who treated you so poorly got the benefit of your sex drive and guys like me, who actually treat you fairly well, we get ridiculed for wanting to have sex with you," he tells her, not unkindly. Jen blinks. "Wow, kudos to you, [Blandy]. That is the nicest way that anyone's ever called me a slut," she says. Again, Blandy and I make the exact same incredulous face. Jen has clearly seen her own haircut and had a psychotic break, because that was so not Blandy calling her a slut. He simply pointed out that he doesn't understand why she apparently enjoyed sex with guys who were shitty to her, but she doesn't enjoy sex with a guy who actually likes her. Blandy, newsflash: it's because she's got some issues. "Basically, what you're saying is, if I can be slut for other guys, why can't I be a slut for you?" Jen asks, then stomps off, as Blandy calls after her that he didn't say that at all. Oh my God! I haven't been this angry about this show in years! First of all, the word "slut" was never mentioned, and Blandy has never, in my memory, said that Jen's "past" -- and let's not even get into how fucking vanilla her "past" actually is -- bothers him or is in any way what he would consider promiscuous. Second, since when is hoping that your partner will have sex with you more than once a week asking her to "be a slut" -- whatever that means? Not that people are required to have sex some arbitrary number of times a week, but having desiring your partner in no way makes them -- or you -- morally destitute. Jen seems to think that if she enjoys sex with her boyfriend, that makes her some kind of whore, when actually, it just makes her you know, normal and healthy. God! The way relationships -- especially sexual ones -- are presented on this show just makes my blood boil. Boil, I tell you!
Los Angeles. Dawson and Whitney go down to pitch Creek Daze to Larry. When they get there, Larry gladhands the Beek, and then there's some stupid business about how his ass hurts because his prostate is "as big as a cured ham" and blah blah blah Dawson goes into his pitch. Or at least he tries to -- Larry interrupts to congratulate him on banging Natasha. Oh, spare me. There are plenty of sexist jackasses in Hollywood, but I worked for one of the worst, and even he wouldn't even say something like that in a pitch meeting. Anyway, finally Dawson goes into his pitch again, and Larry interrupts him again. "This isn't one of those movie about making movies, is it?" he asks, Dawson avoids giving a direct answer and starts going into his pitch again, saying that it's "a coming-of-age story." Larry makes a face, and Whitney corrects him, calling the project "a teen sex comedy with heart." She assures Larry that Creek Daze is full of sex. Why does Dawson look so shocked? Fifteen minutes ago, Whitney told him that if he wanted to sell this movie to this studio, then he needed to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Was he just not listening to her at all?
Larry agrees that trends come and trends go, but the American public will always embrace a movie in which teenage girls take off their shirts. (I suspect that that's true, by the way.) So Dawson nods, and explains that the main character isgy4o uehgnd/. Sorry. I passed out during his little movie magic spiel, just like last week. Now, I have to admit that James Van Der Beek is not actually the problem with this scene. He's not even unlikable. It's this plot. No one cares! It's not dynamically written! We have nothing invested in it! And it's boring. Anyway, Dawson switches the pitch around and throws a stripper into the mix, and Larry's eyes light up. "Student by day, stripper by night. I've seen this probably a million times. But damned if I won't stay up 'til 3 AM every time to watch it on Skinemax," he coos. Ah, yes, Angel: student by night, stripper by day. A movie with which I, as a nine-year-old, was obsessed. Not that my parents let me watch it or anything. I just found the ads fascinating. Seriously. This may explain my current penchant for plaid skirts now that I think about it. Whitney smiles tightly, as Larry suggests they cast a "past-her-prime starlet who's willing to show off her new boob job" in the flick and announces that they have a deal. "In the meantime, tell me more about Natasha," he leers. Everyone laughs, although Whitney has the good grace to look embarrassed.
Boston. Pacey is on the phone in his office, as Joey eavesdrops. Yadda yadda yadda, she comes in to hand him some paperwork and hangs up on his client. Pacey asks her to get him back on the line, and she just stands there and looks at him. Pacey makes a put-upon face. "You know, Jo, you're such a smart girl, I honestly thought this was going to be a little easier for you," he says, and Joey informs him that she purposely didn't learn secretarial skills. Pacey grouses that she should have mentioned that. "Well, if I'm too good at it, then no one will ever let me do what I really want to do," Joey whines. This is the part where I almost suffered a giant stroke. Because that's fucking bullshit. Look, I worked as an assistant for plenty of time before I landed a writing gig, and if Joey wants to be a writer -- and frankly, none of us knows what Joey wants to do with her life because she's never even said -- she'd be well advised to brush up on her secretarial skills, because writing jobs can get sparse on the ground. Not to mention that I got a lot of my earlier writing experience precisely because I was such a good assistant. My bosses gave me more responsibility (which led to me getting a better job), instead of firing me for being a snotty spankhole. And! And! Someone needs to tell Joey that there's absolutely nothing wrong with being an assistant! A good assistant can make very respectable money and is an invaluable part of many companies. Maybe Joey ought to take her uneducated little nose out of the air and trying doing the work that she's being paid to do. Bitch.
At this point, Fede Ralagent enters the room. I guess her actual name is Sadia Shaw, Girl Reporter, but I wish she had been a Fed, because that might have been interesting. Anyway, Pacey is very pleased to see her. I am shocked to see that she's actually more orange than Joey is, which I didn’t think was physically possible. She looks like a walking carrot. Sadia hands Joey her coat, announcing that she has an appointment. Joey blinks like she's never been so offended in her life. Joey, it's a two-week job: hang up her coat. Sadia and Pacey shake hands, and she chirps that he's certainly moving up in the world. "So, you guys know each other?" Joey asks pointedly. Sadia tells her that that's what the interview is for. Pacey then nicely asks Joey to get them a pot of coffee. She snaps that she'll whip up a batch, and gives him, seriously, the look of death as she tosses Sadia's coat aside angrily. Okay. Flames. Flames on the side of my face, again. It's your job! Do your job! Do your job and be an adult, you horrible girl!
We cut to…well, speaking of flames, we appear to be consumed by the flames of hell. Actually, it's the set of a music video being directed by Todd! And I'm not ashamed to admit that when the camera cut to Todd, I squealed, "Todd!" and clapped my hands like a little girl. Dawson wanders onto the set and watches as Todd directs. He cuts, and announces that "Satan himself would be proud!" He goes to chat up a band member, and Dawson approaches. "What the hell are you doing here?" Todd says, in a tone that really says, "Dawson, my love!" The Head announces that he's in a bit of a moral quandary. Todd sniffs that Dawson has a bad habit of appearing when he's about to indulge in "meaningless sex with a comely extra." That comely extra by his side announces that she's actually in the band. Sweetie, for your sake I hope you are in the band, because that line reading was terrible. Todd apologizes and kisses her hand. "Can this wait five minutes?" he asks Dawson. "Five minutes! Gee, what a treat," the girls snots, and runs away. Todd shrugs. He has Dawson to love, again.
In Boston, Sadia asks Bobby Briggs a series of leading questions about Pacey which will surely play a large part in her story about all their improper financial dealings. Mid-question, Joey buzzes Pacey on his intercom. "Excuse me, Pace? Jack's on one," she chirps. Pacey tells her that he's not taking calls. "Not even from your roomie?" Joey simpers. Pacey manages not to race out there and brain her, and instead just grits that he'll call Jack back. "Huh. Okay. My bad! Carry on!" Joey says. Sadia looks amused as Pacey explains that it's Joey's first day. Sadia's going on to her question -- about Pacey's past as a chef -- when his intercom wails obnoxiously. Pacey pulls it out of the wall and apologizes. Joey then comes in to serve their coffee, yammering about how much sugar Pacey takes. Then she pours cream all over Sadia's suit. Bobby Briggs looks amused, but I am seething here. Is that supposed to be loveable and cute? Because she totally did that on purpose, and it's inexcusable and unprofessional and rude. She is being paid to be an assistant! And Sadia is interviewing Pacey in a professional capacity, not giving him a blow job! And Joey won't even kiss Pacey, so it's a little hard for me to understand why she's so jealous of an interview and, romantic feelings aside, she certainly has no right to be so mind-bogglingly unprofessional! Argh! Argh! ARGH!
Bobby suggests they go to his office, and he and Sadia leave. Pacey stays behind to give Joey a dirty look. She twitters that it was totally an accident. "Really? An accident? Why do I find that so hard to believe?" Pacey asks. Joey just rolls her eyes and tells him he better get going. "You don't want to miss your fifteen minutes of fame," she says flatly. This show is so screwed up. It's being implied that Pacey's success is something to be ashamed of, when he's just doing well at a job he clearly enjoys. Obviously, he's being extremely naïve about the company he's working for, but he himself is not a criminal. His only crime is naiveté, which is certainly something Joey has in spades. This show constantly tells us that money -- and people who have it -- are probably evil, while at the same time telling us that, for instance, you should never take out a college loan and if you can't afford to pay for your education, you are shit out of luck. There's no rhyme or reason to it, except for the fact that it always makes me mad.
In Los Angeles, Todd makes the salient point that a job is a job. Dawson brats that he can't do something he doesn't believe in. He whines that he learned a lot working with Todd, but he "lost his soul in the process." Todd rolls his eyes and tells Dawson that he's "a bloody drama queen," and I'd just like to point out that this is the second time that phrase has been used this episode, and since it's not a shout-out, it must just be sloppy writing. Did no one catch that they already used that crack? Jesus, I'm beginning to feel like everyone on the Dawson's Creek staff has totally checked out. Which I can sympathize with -- I'm sure they're as sick of this show as I am -- but they, like Joey, are getting paid to do this job, and like her, they're falling down all over the place. It's unprofessional, and it offends me as a viewer and a writer. Anyway, Todd tells Dawson that he can either keep working until he gets to the point where he can write his own ticket, or he can tear up the check and make the movie on his own dime. Dawson makes a face, and Todd hands him a ten-dollar bill. "Go make a movie," he says, explaining that, with a little heart and plenty of other clichéd movie-making emotions, "you can will a movie into existence." Then he utters some crap about how great Dawson is, and I'm not going to recap those lines because they make Todd look like he's been possessed by the pod people, and I love him too much to put those words into his mouth.
Boston. Joey stares at Pacey as he writes something. Hey, Pacey is a lefty! Like me! We're very good-looking, we lefties. I don't know if you're aware of that. Joey demands to know how he knows "that woman." Pacey rolls his eyes and asks her if it would have killed her to act professionally. Joey opens her mouth at this, like she's never been so appalled in her life, and says that the people at Pacey's office are "cavemen." Cavemen who are PAYING YOUR SALARY. And you're only hurting Pacey, by the way. Pacey points out that he certainly thought she would be able to pour coffee. Especially since she's, you know, a waitress and all. "That's all an assistant is to you, isn't it? Just some chick who pours coffee," Joey sasses. Pacey snaps that he didn't realize she wanted to be "a career assistant," and then Joey brats that Bobby Briggs fired Pacey's other secretary because she wasn't cute enough. "Have you even noticed the assistants here?" she asks. Pacey sighs that there's no good way to answer that. "They look like the Maxim Girls of the Office," Joey brats. And you're fighting that by spilling coffee all over a reporter? That's extremely stupid. Yes, Pacey's former assistant should sue the company. When I worked at the Soul-Sucking Insurance Company, there was a man who had worked there for years who was known to be kind of jackass. During his assistant's annual review, he said that she should lose weight. He put actually put that in her written report. And she sued the company. She got enough money that she's not going to have to work for long time. I thought she was totally in the right, but I didn't go and stop spelling my brochures correctly. I went out and got a new job, instead. And Joey is full of shit if she says she's pouring coffee on Sadia because the company is sexist -- not merely because Sadia doesn't even work there, but because her behavior is clearly coming from her own crazy jealousy.
Anyway, Pacey tells her that he comes to work to do his job, not pick up chicks. And she tells him that she "just [wants] some respect and human kindness." Blah blah blah. Finally, he tells her that she is "wrecking [his] head," and asks her to "maybe just accept the extra income with a smile and maybe a little grace?" And I don't know if I've mentioned this, but Katie Holmes is chewing the scenery in this scene like I've never seen before. I hate Joey, but Katie Holmes's acting is rarely the problem. But in this scene, seriously, she's screwing up her face like Lucy Ricardo on Vitameatavegimen. She then makes some noise about how she hopes this isn't how Pacey plans on treating future assistants. DUDE! HE WASN'T MISTREATING YOU! HE ASKED YOU TO MAKE SOME FUCKING COFFEE. Anyway, there's some more idiotic and infuriating back-and-forthing; Joey says the rest of the men in the office call him "Witless," and then finally admits that she's had some kind of "psychotic lapse," and then there's some really silly business about Joey taking a letter, and then the thing you know, they're making out on the sofa. I really hate this show. I really, really hate it. I especially hate Joey. I hate Pacey now, too, because by rights he ought to be infuriated with Joey's juvenile behavior. I especially hate the fact that the two of them have spoiled the formerly delightful making out for me. Anyway, so Bobby comes in to tell Pacey that he's leaving for the day. He smirks when he sees them kissing. "At least I waited a week with mine," he says, and goes. Pacey grins down at Joey. "Pigs, we're all pigs," he says, and she smiles up at him. Oh, Moses, smell the roses! This is absurd! This is what gets them to make out? An idiotic, sexist morality play about not firing ugly people? And a revelation that Joey is a snobby brat with a shitty work ethic? I totally want to go on a killing spree right now.
And my desire to kill only gets stronger after this scene. Jen, Blandy, and Grams sit at the dinner table in silence. Grams wonders what's going on with the two of them. "[Blandy] thinks I'm slut," Jen announces. "No I don't!" Blandy says. And instead of asking Jennifah not to use that particular word, Grams asks her granddaughter why she thinks this. "Because he pretty much said so," Jen brats. "No, I did not!" Blandy says. AND THEN BLANDY AND JEN WORK OUT THEIR SEXUAL PROBLEMS USING GRAMS AS A MODERATOR. I don't think I can say anything more than that without spontaneously combusting. I'm sorry. I can believe that Grams has changed as a character, but not to this extent. It's an insult to the long-term viewer, and it makes me wonder how burned out, exactly, the writers really are. "Well, she seemed to like having sex up until she started having sex with me," Blandy tells Grams. "You can tell [Blandy] that the best sex I've ever had in my life has been with him," Jen says. Seriously. Seriously, people. Am I having a psychotic break? Am I hallucinating? Is this happening? "You can tell Jen that I'm sorry if I made her feel bad and I would never insinuate that she is of questionable morality and I will snuggle with her any time she wants," Blandy says. And Grams? Is not telling them that she finds their premarital sex talk inappropriate. "Well, I think my work is done here," Grams says instead, pushing away from the table. "I have peace to broker elsewhere in Beantown." And she leaves. And then Blandy tells Jen that he's not sorry about wanting to have sex with her. "That's the way it's always going to be." And then they decide that they want to do it right then and there and they run upstairs without even putting their dishes in the sink! I hate this show!
Los Angeles. Oh, please. Like Dawson is really going to go through with this teen sex comedy deal. I'm not even going to go through this entire scene; everyone knows he's not going to cash Larry the Pervert's check. He can't do it! He can't! He's an artist! He needs to tell a story! Blah! Blah! Blah! Larry is, clearly, shocked that Dawson is turning down his cash, but wishes him luck. Dawson leaves the studio all proud of himself. Proud and poor. I hope he drops dead.
Liberty Hell's Kitchen. Pacey and Joey broker some kind of peace as he helps her clean out the bar. He then keeps me from flying to North Carolina to stick the writers' heads in the toilet by firing her. Joey is stunned by this development, and swears that she can make coffee. Pacey tells her that it's not about the coffee; he just can't concentrate on work when she's around. Aw, that would be really cute if this entire episode didn't destroy whatever residual goodwill I had left for Joey. Anyway, they make out. And I discover that I still sort of love Pacey. But as I now completely hate Joey, I feel somewhat conflicted by this making out. Post-kiss, Joey agrees that she can't work for him anymore. So she quits. Pacey points out that if she gets fired, she can get severance. As a temp? After one day? I don't think so. Anyway, Joey informs Pacey that she was looking forward to seeing him in a regular basis. He snuggles against her shoulder and whispers that that can be arranged. She tells him that she still has to close out the register, and then she'll meet him at his place. Pacey smiles at her sweetly and walks out…just as Oliver walks in. He grins proudly at Joey, who looks stunned. Oh, Joey. He was in California, not at the bottom of the ocean.