The title of this episode, "The Lost Weekend," is derived, I assume, from the Billy Wilder-penned film of the same name, in which Ray Milland plays an alcoholic who literally drinks himself to death. Unfortunately, I have to break it to you that no one drinks themselves to death in this episode of Dawson's Creek. Although I come pretty close.
We kick off this episode in Joey's Spacious And Well-Appointed Dorm Room; Dawson's on his cell phone, confirming that his flight back to Los Angeles is still on time, while Joey sits at her desk and stares blankly at a piece of paper. When Dawson disconnects, Joey blinks and announces that today is last day she can drop her writing class. Dawson cheerfully chatters that he thought Joey really enjoyed that class. Joey grouses that she likes it as much as she can like "anything [she's] getting a C in." Dawson sort of shrugs and tells her to "do what she has to do," offering to entertain himself for an hour or so. Joey thanks him and makes pathetic faces. She really needs to brush her hair; it's all stringy at the ends. Maybe she just needs a trim. Trust me, I know from stringy at the ends, and the best cure is to just take the length up a tiny bit. Then Dawson puts a call into his home machine to check his messages. "Hey, there's one from you," he chirps. Joey looks up, a stricken expression on her face. Dawson grins and tells her she "sounds a little drunk." Joey, realizing that Dawson hasn't heard her "I'm cutting the cord" speech, tries to wrestle the phone away from him. He manages to wiggle out of her grasp, grinning. Because he hasn't gotten to the whole cord-cutting portion of the message. Joey then jumps on his back and he carries her around the living room, and when he hangs up, he expresses surprise that she's over him, because he doesn't remember a time when she was under him. Then he takes his monkey and has sex with a girl at the copy shop, because they were on a break. Oh, wait, that's another show. "Some nice guy hit on you!" Dawson chortles. "Yeah, so nice he proceeded to sleep with Audrey," Joey complains.
Um, okay. I know it's a little early for a sidebar, but we could all catch anthrax and drop dead, so why wait, you know? First of all, Econ Boy surely didn't know that he was sleeping with Joey's roommate until he and Joey ran into each other the morning during their respective Walks Of Shame, so it's not like he slept with Audrey specifically to be mean to Joey. Second, Joey totally blew him off, and she doesn't even know him. Why does she care whom he sleeps with, and how is it any of her business, anyway? Third, people can be perfectly nice and still have the occasional one-night stand, so maybe Joey ought to remove the stick from her ass. Finally, why does she even care?
Anyway, Dawson listens to the rest of the message, his face falling. His hair looks sort of curly all of a sudden, sort of Justin Timberlake by way of Ricky Schroder in Silver Spoons. The Sad Mandolin Of Estranged Soulmates thwangs in the background as Joey sucks both of her lips all the way into her mouth. Dawson hangs up, and grunts. "Apparently, I've got great timing," he says. Joey protests that she was drunk and had no idea what she was saying when she left that message on his machine. Dawson crabs that he wishes he'd known "all that" before he flew three thousand miles to see her. And while --surprisingly -- I sort of feel bad for Dawson in this instance, it's not Joey's fault that he didn't check his machine before he hopped on the plane. He wonders mopily why she didn't mention the whole "cutting the cord" issue during the weekend. She asks why she would mention it if he didn't mention it (because, you know, it's best to just ignore all the issues in your relationship and hope that everyone forgets everything). Finally, Joey admits that she "was mad" at Dawson. Mad because they haven't "resolved anything." Oh my God. Don't these people ever get tired of all these endless attempts at resolution (of total non-problems), what with all the talking and talking and talking and talking? Doesn't anybody just go out for a beer anymore? And I know I just made a crack about how you should talk about your problems and not stick your head in the sand, but for the love of God, people, it's called a happy medium. Dawson admits that he thought they said all they had to say, three months ago in his room. "Great, then I guess we don't have anything left to say," Joey huffs, and starts to gather her books.
Enter Audrey, clad only in a towel, combing her wet hair. She eyes the two of them, and wonders what the problem is. Joey stands up with her books, and she's wearing the lowest-cut jeans ever. I know that's the trend, and all, but dude, someone could lose an eye on those hipbones. If that person was, you know, like a midget or something. She complains to Audrey that it's Dunston's last day and she has to go drop a class. "Okay, that's a heartstopper," Audrey snarks, and suggests that Dawson entertain himself by taking a campus tour. "Perfect," Dawson says shortly. And Joey stomps out. "She's a handful, that girl," Audrey says, more to the closed door than to Dawson. Dawson rolls his eyes and shakes his head wearily, and I don't know what's wrong with me, but I sort of feel for him. Joey is a total pain in the ass. Also, as much as I hate to admit this, Dawson looks way better with the haircut. He seriously almost looks attractive. For, you know, a thirty-five-year-old man.
Cut to credits and commercials. Katie Holmes shilling for Garnier Nutrisse plus Joey tossing her razor-sharp pelvis all over the place is just overkill.
The streets of Boston. Jack and Jen walk around and talk about Charlie. Jen's insisting that he's never going to call her, pointing out that he doesn't have her phone number. Jack is absurdly confident, telling her that Charlie will get her number. He's very vague about how, exactly, Charlie will go about getting Jen's number. Maybe he'll use magic! Actually, Jack thinks Charlie will avail himself of recent "advances in informational technology." That's also known as "stalking," by the way. He just asks that when Charlie does track Jen down, she throw herself on him, since she "obviously wants to." We'll get back to Charlie in a sec, but I have to point out that Jen is wearing a really cute skirt. It's a black-and-white toile wrap-around with a pink tie/belt thing. I love and want it. ["Get in line. Wing Chun and I want it too." -- Sars] Jen informs Jack that "nice girls" don't throw themselves at boys they like. "Society deems that slutty and unattractive," she snarks. Jack snorts that he'd forgotten about that. As someone who's lived her whole life being the "nice girl," I'd just like to point out that, as a role, it's entirely overrated. Jack reminds Jen that she hasn't had sex in the entire time he's known her. Well, then, why did he say -- just last week -- that the last guy she'd been with was Henry? Or by "been with," did he just mean "date"? Because where I come from, it means something else. Jack also points out that, in the past year, he's kissed more boys than she has. "Well, that's not true," Jen sputters. "Okay, I've kissed one guy," Jack offers. "How many have you kissed?" Jack's hair is doing this distracting flippy That Girl thing right now, and it's so very wrong on a man. "One," Jen offers. "How many straight guys?" Jack presses. "Um, none," Jen flutters. Jack throws his arms up in a victorious gesture and darts across the street. "This is the saddest conversation ever," Jen sighs to herself, and trudges after him. Heh. These two are awfully cute. If only this were The Jen and Jack Show, With Special Appearances by Audrey and Charlie.
Speaking of Charlie, he's right in front of them, DJ-ing at the BBC radio station. Jack, lost, has pulled out a map and buried himself in it. Jen, on the other hand, is staring right at Charlie. She suddenly closes her eyes. "Oh my God," she squeals girlishly. "Jack, Jack," she calls, poking the map to get his attention. She doesn't want Charlie to think she's been trying to find him, she tells Jack. Jack points out that she has been trying to find him. As Jen gets ready to explain the concept between seeming cool and uninterested in front of a boy you really like, Charlie looks up and sees her. He waves wildly, grinning. "He's…waving!" Jen squeals, and sort of bounces up and down. "I told you he liked you!" Jack tells her. "How much more of a sign do you need?" On cue, Charlie scribbles something on a piece of orange construction paper, and slaps it against the window. It says, "Get In Here," but he's holding it upside down. Jen and Jack both do the whole head-tilty thing, trying to read the sign. Charlie makes the come-hither finger crook. "Come in," he mouths at Jen. "It's upside down," Jen sighs. "You're going in anyway," Jack says. Okay, I'm in love with Charlie now. Just so you're all aware. I love him. We're in love. And it only took a piece of construction paper and a smile. And the finger crook. I love the finger crook.
Moving right along. I guess Dawson's flying back to Los Angeles on a Monday, since there are people scampering all over the Worthington campus, and Joey has to wait for Professor Wilder to get out of his class, and when I was in school, people spent Sundays sleeping or doing homework. Or, my personal favorite, sleeping on their homework. Anyway, Joey's doing that thing wherein she chases Wilder down the stairs and he talks at her and she makes pained faces. He wonders if Joey can't drop "something useless, like basket-weaving or women's studies." She mutters that she'll "pretend [she] didn't hear that." I don't even know how to react to that comment. Wilder's, not Joey's. Because if he's supposed to be, like, charming and insouciant, all flying in the face of political correctness and acting like some maverick, devil-may-care creative-writing force of nature, that's really not coming through. It's less "insouciant" and more "big irritating tool." So, Joey and Wilder do this walk-and-talk thing while he mutters about how people never drop his class, and that, in fact, people kill to be in his class, and she ought to feel really grateful because she's a freshman and he never lets freshmen in his class, but he let her in his class, because she's special, yada, yada, yada. Joey's like, dude, sign the sheet. But first they need to yammer some more about Joey's Stupid Soulmates Story and how her life is suddenly so much more complicated and she can't handle it. "And what makes you think you can't?" Wilder asks. "Because I'm obviously freaking out," Joey squeals.
Okay. Sidebar two: Admittedly, as previously said, I went to a very large school. One where you could drop whatever class you wanted to drop over the phone, up to a certain date. A very late date. But I had to drop a math class past the add/drop date once, so I needed to get the professor to sign off on my form. His reaction? "This happens all the time," and his signature. It's just a suggestion, but I think maybe Professor Wilder should try to take these things a bit less seriously. He reluctantly puts his John Hancock on Joey's form and sighs. "No matter how many times this happens -- and I lied, it happens a lot -- it still feels like getting dumped by your first girlfriend," he says. Wow, that's really creepy. "Have a nice life, Miss Potter," he guilt-trips. Yeah, this is a really rational reaction. First of all, she's dropping a class, not dropping out of school and moving all the way across the country to chase a former boyfriend, or something. Second, why do you care, you creep-show? She's a child! She's getting a C! You're married! Wilder is disgusting. He hands Joey the form, giving her The Puppy Dog Eyes Of Professors With No Sense Of Boundaries. Joey just takes the form and runs away. Is this episode going to be all about the add/drop process? Because as much as I miss college -- and there are parts of college I miss very much -- the boring minutia of administrative errands is not something I want to relive. Honestly, what's ? A non-linear and postmodern exploration of Book Buy-Back? A Rashomon-esque exploration of the pain and anguish of trying to find a parking space in front of the student union at noon on Wednesday? A real-time episode examining the horror of sleeping through a French midterm that started at noon? Okay, maybe that last one only happened to me.
So, Audrey leads Dunston to the area on campus where the campus tours originate. They're the only two people there, but Audrey reveals that she is a campus tour guide, herself, and she can give him his own private tour, and it occurs to me that this entire episode is a big shout-out to my friend Brian, who both worked at the campus radio station (like Charlie) and was a campus tour guide (like Audrey). I actually applied to be a campus tour guide myself, but the hiring committee asked me to tell them a joke and while I like to think that I'm fairly funny, I'm situationally funny rather than joke funny, and I couldn't think of a single non-dirty joke, so instead of telling them something obscene about blowjobs and rabbis or something, I told them this really very humorous story that just happened to be about the time my roommate Jen got shot with a rubber bullet by the riot police. Everyone laughed quite a bit, but, in retrospect, it was perhaps not the sort of story one ought to tell prospective students. On the other hand, the tour guide I had when I first visited UCLA told us all about a psychotic roommate who tampered with his alarm clock and caused him to miss his finals, so whatever. Nevertheless, I didn't get the job. Unlike Audrey. Who works as a tour guide, although it is just her first semester at the university. Maybe the "I'm a tour guide" story is a lie, and Audrey just wants Dunston all to herself. That is a sick-making thought, and I'm going to pretend I never had it. The two of them stand in the middle of the quad and indulge in some warm-up Joey-bashing exercises, with
Dawson saying that Joey has ruined his life, and wondering if Audrey has ever asked herself how "someone so smart could be so stupid," and with Audrey laughing and reminding Dawson that she lives with Joey, and thus wonders that every single day. They laugh and laugh, and Audrey slaps a "Hello, My Name Is…" sticker onto her chest and then onto Dawson's. "You can thank me for rocking your world later," she tells him as she leads him off to show him such fascinating sites as the Hugh G. Dick library. Whoops. Again, I think that was only part of my college experience. And yes, until it was recently renamed, the library at my esteemed institute of higher learning was really called the Hugh G. Dick Library. There was a plaque and everything. I always felt bad for Mr. Dick when I walked past it.Wow, y'all are learning so much about me this week! I'll try to keep my personal comments out of this particular segment. Over at Boston Bay College Of Contrivance, Charlie waves Jen into the studio whilst he DJs. He's talking about how it's Monday morning (see! Told you so) and, to celebrate, they're playing "anything weepy, anything mopey, anything remotely a bummer." As Jen sits down and puts on headphones, Charlie announces that he's about to play "Girlfriend in a Coma," by the Smiths. "I'm sorry, we're not going to play that," Jen says into the microphone. After some hissing about how that microphone is on, and about how Jen knows that because she turned it on, Charlie introduces her as his new producer, "Jen Now Would Come The Part Where It Becomes Painfully Obvious I Don't Know Her Last Name." Jen gives him the "Lindley," and informs him that people need peppy music to cheer them up on Monday mornings. "The problem with college radio stations is too many requests for misunderstood ambisexual geniuses," she says. And they banter. It's very David and Donna. Except it's cuter, because Charlie is my new boyfriend and David Silver was a giant dork. On the other hand, if I was working at the coffee shop or the bookstore or the Add/Drop line while listening to the campus radio station, I'd be muttering about how they'd better start playing some damn music and shut the hell up before I take my coffee break and walk over there and hit the stupid play button myself, because it's Monday and I'm cranky and I don't want banter, I want the Smiths, and I want them now! But no, there's more talk about how people are crabby on Mondays because they've gone out on the weekend and done things they regret. Or, if you're normal, you're mopey because, unlike on Saturday and Sunday, on Monday you have to haul your ass out of bed and go do things you don't want to do. Like work. Anyway. Jen hypothesizes that it's possible to regret things you don't do as much as it is to regret the things you do. "Failing to get somebody's phone number the first time you meet them?" she suggests. Charlie agrees that is in fact a regrettable thing…unless the woman in question "had blown you off pretty majorly" and had a "tall, good-looking, dark-hair[ed]" boyfriend. Jen laughs. "So what you're running here is a radio program for mopey straight guys easily threatened by obviously gay men in Abercrombie sweaters?" she asks. Charlie: "Ha ha ha." The listening audience: "Dude! Music! Now!" Jen smiles wryly. "I don't see how the university can condone such blatant niche marketing. Things are going to have to change around here. And quick," she says. And this last bit is delivered in a bizarre Renee-Zellweger-as-Bridget-Jones sort of quasi-English accent. "All right," Charlie laughs. "Well, we're going to play that Smiths' classic, and then a little 'Sedated.' We'll be back." He pushes a button, and Morrissey starts to sing as Jen leans back and grins at him.
The Bay. Or river. Whatever that body of water Pacey's parked his boat on. Okay, I can see that you probably don't park a boat. Docked, right? I don't know. Let's talk Pacey. Everybody's favorite deckhand and some blonde chippy come scampering up from below deck, flirtatiously arguing about a photograph the Blonde Chippy is waving around frenetically. Pacey chases her out on deck, making noises about the brilliance of the French and their topless beaches and yada yada, kissy kissy, Chippy allows him to keep the photo "somewhere [her] uncle won't find it." More kissy kissy smoochie smoochie, Chippy instructs Pacey to meet her later for lunch at the fancy-schmancy joint she's picked out. "And wear that new shirt I bought you," she instructs him. Pacey, very briefly, makes a weary face. Get it? Chippy is bossy, and thus, undesirable in every way, topless photos be damned. He agrees, and Chippy cheerfully swings her ass off the boat and down the dock and right past Deputy Doug, who must have taken some time off from Capeside PD to get a haircut and visit his brother. Doug turns and appreciatively watches Chippy's ass swing past him.
Boston Bay College Of Contrivance, Dormitory For Hot Guys Who Work In Radio. Jen and her cute skirt are up in Charlie's room, going through his stuff. She looks at the books on the ground to the bed; they're all, like, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas and Like A Fish Needs A Bicycle: The History of Feminist Thought in 20th Century American Politics. Jen comments that Charlie's devotion to the rights of women might be more believable if he had only one of his many women-centric books, as opposed to an entire slate of them. Charlie tells her, wryly, that he's taking a class about feminist literature. "So you can meet women?" Jen asks. "Not everything is a conspiracy. Some things just are," Charlie says. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to find a character on this show who doesn't want to talk every single aspect of his life to death, and who also doesn't hourly feel the need to trot out the fact that he owns an Esoteric Multi-Syllabic Word Of The Day desk calendar. God bless him. Anyway, turns out that Jen is up in Charlie's room to settle a contrived little bet about whether or not he owns a Dolly Parton album including the original recording of "I Will Always Love You." Jen finds this hard to believe. In fact, she says so: "I find it hard to believe that a person who owns 'License to Ill' also owns Volume 2 of 'The Essential Dolly Parton Collection.'" I'd just like to point out that "License to Ill" kicks ass, so that better not be a slam on the seminal album of my junior high school experience. Charlie mumbles something that I can't understand, even though I listen to it three times, but I'm sure it's charming. He then says something about how this Dolly Parton song will turn Jen's life completely upside down and also totally blow her mind. She flirtatiously tells him that she thought "that's what people were for." He flops on the bed, down to where Jen is sitting on the floor, and they keep bantering flirtatiously, until Jen just leans over and kisses him smack on the mouth. They look at each other, and then kiss again. Jen pulls away for a moment. "I came here from a small town, I like to knit and I live with my grandma," she tells him. Charlie shrugs. "Works for me," he says. And then they really start going at it, with the kissing and the groping and the panting. Way to go, Jen!
Add/Drop line. I am so bored with this plot. Just to remind you, this story line revolves around dropping a class. It is about an administrative errand. Why don't they just give Katie Holmes a copy of Algebra and Trigonometry: Structure and Methods and ask her to read the first three chapters aloud? At least I'd learn something. Anyway, Joey's in the stupid line, and she gets bored after three hours of trying to figure out how far she can bend over without her ass falling out of those jeans, so she takes her phone and calls Dawson. She learns that he's still with Audrey and that they've been talking about her, and a jealous note creeps into her voice. She informs him that the Add/Drop line is out of control. As she chats, Audrey and Dawson walk up right behind her. Audrey takes Dawson's phone out of his hands. "We're going to hang up on you now," she chirps, and does so. Joey barely has time to look irritated before Audrey and Dawson pop out in front of her, chortling with glee. They cheerfully explain that Audrey gave Dawson a tour of the campus, in her official capacity as tour guide. Joey smiles tightly, and asks Audrey to hold her place in line. She drags Dawson over to a far corner of the shot. "So, you spent the entire morning with her?" Joey asks, in the same kind of tone a reasonable person would use to ask if someone killed a litter of puppies for fun. Dawson tells her that he likes Audrey because she's easy to talk to. Joey spits that Audrey was just flirting with him, and that she'd flirt with anybody, "animal, vegetable, mineral." Dawson chirps that he thinks Audrey is great! Joey bitches some more, and then orders Dawson to go hang out with Jen and Jack. I'm actually feeling sorry for Dawson. I am, in fact, liking Dawson more than I like Joey, right now. What on earth is happening here? Anyway, Dawson asks Joey if they're ever going to finish the conversation they started in her room that morning. "We had a great weekend. Why spoil it with a bunch of talk that ultimately means nothing?" Joey asks. Dawson's brows speed to the top of his giant cranium. "So our future means nothing to you?" he snips. Joey whines that she just wants to do what he told her to do in June: move on. "Are you one hundred percent prepared to do that?" Dawson asks. Oh my GAWD. First of all, since when does "moving on" mean "cutting all ties and never, ever, speaking again?" Growing up doesn't always mean growing apart, people. I just don't understand why this has to be an all-or-nothing proposition. Joey looks back at the Add/Drop line. "I should just go," she says. "Yeah, you should," Dawson says. He flares his nostrils. She makes a miserable face and trudges back to the line. I loathe those two.
Eventually, Joey gets to the front of the line, and hands her form to the nice administrative lady, who gives it one quick glance and hands it back to her. Turns out Wilder signed the form "Oscar Wilde." Joey huffs enormously and stamps out of the administrative building. I really don't understand why, at this point, Joey doesn't just duck into the ladies' room and forge Wilder's signature herself. I mean, it's illegal and all, but damn, people. I guess we can add "juvenile" and "liar" to our list of descriptive terms for Professor Wilder. Right under "creepy," "pretentious," "tool-y," and "super tool-y." ["We can also add 'no common sense' to our list of Joey's qualities. She spent hours standing in that line -- she wouldn't have looked at the form even once? Seen the wrong signature?" -- Sars]
Fancy Schmancy Café For Kept Men Who Sometimes Work As Deckhands. Pacey dines with Chippy Melanie, and complains about how chi-chi the joint is. She smarms that he can "torture her with grilled cheese tomorrow." Pacey blanches when Melanie reaches for the bill and insists on paying. She reminds him that she has an allowance and a credit card and a trust fund, and he doesn't even have a job. She tells him that "when his ship comes in," he can pay the bill, but for the time being, "this is what legally blondes do for their cute slacker boyfriends." Pacey makes his "I'm so emasculated" face.
Dormitory For Hot Boys Who Work In Radio. Jen snorts in her sleep and wakes herself up. And she's naked. In bed. With Charlie. And what, in the vernacular, is known as his six-pack, although, actually, it's more like a twelve-pack. "Oh God!" she yelps, and starts rooting around for her clothes, "Oh God"-ing the entire time. Charlie wakes up with a jolt. "Wait, what did I miss? Are you praying?" he asks. Heh. Jen, flustered, asks him what time it is; it's five o'clock. Jen starts running around, tossing her clothes on haphazardly. "Why did you let me fall asleep?" she asks him. "I wasn't aware we were conducting some sort of vigil," Charlie cracks. Jen's frantically looking for her shoes, and repeating that she can't believe she "did this." Or something. I'm…distracted. Jen tells Charlie that she has friends coming over for dinner, and she's late, and her grandmother will be wondering where she is and she really needs a shoe! "Grandmother?" Charlie asks. Jen told him, she lives with her grandmother. "I thought you were kidding about that," Charlie says. "No. Can I borrow your shoes?" Jen asks. She finds some kind of footwear and starts to hightail it out of there, but Charlie pulls on his drawers and chases her. He stops her at the door and tells her not to pretend what happened didn't happen. Or something. "What happened?" Jen asks. She's blushing. "I met you. I liked you. You liked me. We had sex," Charlie recaps. He then asks her to take a minute and "stop and appreciate" that, because "it's pretty freaking amazing," and "if it's all right with [her]," he doesn't want to have to go out Friday night and start the whole process over again. Because, he says, he's not going to find someone he likes half as much as he likes her. "Okay," Jen and I say in unison, all dreamily. "Okay, what?" Charlie asks. "Okay, you can call me," Jen tells him. Charlie grins. "Why would I want to call you?" he asks. "You're right here." Jen smiles in spite of herself as Charlie grabs her and kisses her and pulls her back inside the room.
Professor Wilder dismisses his afternoon class, and turns to see an irate Joey. She sarcastically thanks him for signing her Add/Drop form. Wilder smiles at her and informs her that it's the "rare high school graduate" who knows the difference between "its" and "it's," and when he finds one, his blood "tends to race a little bit." Um, isn't Worthington supposed to be super-hard to get into? Because if it is, I bet most of those kids know the difference between a contraction and a possessive. Also, that may have been a shout-out to Sars. In which case: about damn time. ["Since I had to teach my own TA Wilder how to use the serial semi-colon, that's actually accurate. Doesn't mean I won't take the shout-out." -- Sars] Anyway, Wilder smarms that Joey will "forgive him for not wanting to part with a student [he] found promising." And if this scene was in any way representative of reality, Joey would tell him that he'd have to forgive her for bringing in an ombudsman to make sure that he signs her damn Add/Drop form, because he's not her father, and he's not paying for her education, and she doesn't even know him, and thus he has no right to decide which classes she can and can not drop. And, also? Joey is not something for him to "part with." She's a person. One more thing: this possessive deal Wilder's throwing around is not attractive, and it's not all that flattering. It's mostly creepy, and inappropriate. I'd find this entire plot line way more realistic -- and Wilder far more attractive --if he had just told Joey that she's a talented writer, and he hates to lose her, and he hopes to see her in his class sometime in the future. Instead of, you know, these wack and juvenile mind games. , Wilder tells Joey that she has "an amazing inability to roll with the punches," which is true, but also, again, really not his watch. He also thinks that she wouldn't be dropping his class if she had a better grade in it. Well, no shit, Professor Brainiac. More arguing. This scene is a potent cocktail of boring and infuriating. And then they get to talking about Dawson. Joey tells Wilder that "the boy" is outside "debating the future of [their] relationship." Oh, God! Get the form signed! Get out! Finally, Wilder tells Joey that she's talking crazy talk, and he hands her a blue book and tells her that if she can explain whatever she's yammering about in a way that makes some sense, he'll "let her go chase that boy of [hers]." That is so icky. "You realize this is completely unfair?" Joey asks. Wilder is aware. He smiles at her, possessively, as she sits down at a desk and begins to write.
Audrey and Dawson stand on top of a building overlooking the quad. Audrey tells him that students come up to this lookout to commit suicide, or make out. Either one. Yeah, it's romantic. Audrey jokingly suggests they make out, and Dawson gleefully agrees. They laugh, and Audrey tells him that Joey's her friend, "or she's going to be," and she can't make out with her friend's pseudo-boyfriend. They look out at the view, and Audrey muses that she loves Worthington. "This is what college is supposed to look like. L.A. couldn't look like this in a million years." Down in hell, Satan just reached for a sweater, because for the first time ever, USC and UCLA students have agreed: none of them like Audrey very much right now. But I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt; most people are under the impression that their college is the very best one in the whole wide world, and no one can convince them otherwise. Also, she's still operating under the halo effect from that "Dunston" crack. Dawson looks uncomfortable, but insists that he likes Los Angeles. Audrey points out cheerfully that things are going really well for him, with the internship and all. He admits, sadly, that he got fired. "What am I going to do? Drop out of USC and come back to Boston?" he asks her, like that's not exactly what's going to happen. Clearly, Dawson will be coming back to the East Coast. Audrey chirps that not having a job is "one less thing tying him to LA." Dudes! He just got there. Maybe he ought to try to get used to it before deciding to come running home to Joey. Sweet merciful crap! This show! Is so frustrating!
Wilder's House Of Inappropriately And Overly Involved Pretentious Professors. He reads Joey's blue book as she looks miserable. He looks up and tells her she has a tendency to "overthink things." It's her "major failing in both life and art," he says. And then he signs the flipping form, after only eight hours of begging and pleading. Joey whines that Wilder probably thinks she's "wimping out," but blah blah blah, she needs to succeed at Worthington because "a lot of people have made a lot of sacrifices" to get her there. She throws out the Dead Mother card, and follows it with the Convict Father card. And it's only the second episode of the season! ["I'm surprised it took this long, myself." -- Sars] Wilder thinks Joey has "a lot of interesting stories left to tell." And then he walks out of the room. In the real world, most students would mutter, "Smell you later, dickwad," but Joey just thoughtfully turns over her blue book, to see a big fat red "A-" scrawled on the cover. Oh, gag me. She takes her form and walks outside, looking thoughtful. And then she tears it up and throws it away. Wow, never saw that coming. Except for the part where, because I'm neither blind nor deaf (yet), I so totally did.
Liberty Bell, The Restaurant From Hell. Blah blah, somehow Pacey manages to convince Danny that he can chop stuff real good, and he manages to score a job above "dishwasher" on the kitchen food chain. See? Because he can't have his lady paying for his grub. Not ever! Danny and Pacey chat a bit about Deputy Doug, and Danny tells Pacey that his wife's parents have a place in Capeside, and Danny tends to "get drunk and howl at the moon" when they visit. And that's how he got friendly with Doug. Because Doug is totally the type to get friendly with the perps. Anyway, long story short, Pacey's chopping stuff for a living right now, and Danny tells him that if he "shows up on time, and works clean," he can have any job he wants, "including [Danny's]." Wow, this is so very exciting. I wonder what's on C-SPAN. So, Pacey agrees that that gig sounds pretty good, seeing as Danny "doesn't seem to do much of anything." Danny makes his "you charmingly incorrigible kid!" expression and leaves. Pacey rolls his eyes. Poor Joshua Jackson. What does he have to do to get a plot line? Or, you know, a new job?
Outside, the restaurant, Karen The Saucy Waitress Who Once Dated Carter smokes a cig and looks blankly off into the distance. Pacey rolls up. They talk. It's a horribly written scene, in which the actors display no chemistry whatsoever. It also includes a Don't Smoke, Or Pacey Won't Love You PSA. And the line "What matters isn't really where you are. It's who you're there with." Please tell me that Karen and Pacey aren't going to hook up, because I've had more stimulating interaction with inanimate objects.
Worthington. Joey runs into Audrey in the hallway of their dormitory. Dawson? At the airport. "Go!" Audrey yells, as Joey runs after The Only Man She's Ever Really Loved. Oh, Audrey, don't be an enabler.
Logan Airport. Joey and Dawson talk and talk and talk and talk and talk, mostly about nothing at all, like how nice it is for Joey to have Jack and Jen and Grams around, and how they're "like a family." Joey muses that "it puts everything in perspective. Helps you separate what matters from what doesn't." I have no idea what the "it" in that sentence refers to. Family? Couldn't tell you. They're calling for Dawson's flight. He asks Joey what does matter to her. "You," she says, and The Sad Piano Music Of Separated Soulmates starts up in the background again. "That's why…" she begins. Oh, God, this is only the second episode and they're already killing me with this endless yammering about their stupid relationship and what it all means. Shut. Up. Both of you! Christ! Just cut the cord! The cord! Cut it! Joey's still talking. She wants Dawson "there, at the end of the day." And she doesn't know why. Dawson points out that he's right in front of her, and they've only started talking, now that he's getting ready to leave. He says that maybe their "attraction" is just "fear of moving on, growing up." He then dramatically intones that if he gets on the plane back to Los Angeles, in four years, they'll be complete strangers to each other. And he doesn't want that to happen. Does she? The flight attendant is like, dude, get on the plane. Dawson and Joey stare at each other. While they stare, I'd just like to say they won't automatically become complete strangers, just because they're attending different colleges. First, they'd see each other on vacations. Second, there's this newfangled thing called "the telephone," and an even newer-fangled thing called "email." Finally, sweet Jesus, it's only 3,000 miles! She's not entering a convent! One of my best friends from high school went to Vassar, while I stayed here in Los Angeles, and we're still good friends! Holy God, people! Anyway, back to these two foolios. "Do you want that to happen?" Dawson repeats. "No," Joey says, all teary and weepy. "Of course not!" So Dawson puts his bag down. More staring. Close-lipped smile from Joey. And they sit back down! As the plane takes off! Without Dawson! I want to die!