We open on a close-up of a waiter concocting something in a bowl that involves an egg yolk and lemon juice. He's at a semicircular booth containing Don, Betty, Roger, and Roger's wife Mona (Talia Balsam), and Roger asides to Mona that she should ask him for another yolk. "One egg is good; two eggs are better." I used to think that too, until my doctor started mentioning statins in every other sentence. Roger continues in this officious vein, trying to push drinks on everyone (not that that's any kind of difficult errand) and basically telling the staff to snap to it. Might as well get him slurry, boys -- I have the feeling that's the only time he's a decent tipper. Roger reminisces about the nannies he had as a child, the comedic highlight coming when he mentions that the first one he had was German. "My parents got rid of her after the Lindbergh baby." Hee. Betty pipes up that she and Don thought about getting a nanny, but they settled for a girl who comes in to clean and sometimes takes care of the kids. Roger takes the opportunity to complain about his daughter and the fact that she's now going to a shrink, although Mona doesn't see what the big deal is. Roger then asks Don about his childhood, but Don smoothly deflects the question, and Betty adds, "Don doesn't like to talk about himself." Even if I hadn't seen the rest of the season, I suspect I'd sense she's understating the case here. Roger mildly gives Don shit for being a self-effacing ad man, implying that that's too good to be true, but Don says his childhood isn't interesting, and they can think of him as having been a baby in a basket, just like Moses. That's fitting enough, considering everyone treats Don like he's capable of feats on the order of the parting of the Red Sea. Roger raises a glass to Moses and Don, and after everyone sips, Mona and Betty repair to the ladies' room. When they're gone, Roger muses that he may know more about Betty than about Mona, and Don cheerfully counters, "Maybe your wife is just a better drinker." Heh.
In the ladies', Betty takes her lipstick out of her little sequined bag. Unfortunately, her control of her hands seems to be on the fritz, so, trying to steady the quaver in her voice and explaining that her hands are a little numb, she asks Mona for some help touching herself up. Mona obliges, and smiles that with Betty's lips, it must be easy for her to hold on to Don, and they both share a chuckle. Oh, the humanity. Betty turns serious, though, saying that it's kind of hard to hold onto anything with running the house and taking care of the kids and all, and by the way, did Mona know her mother died three months ago? Mona regards Betty with an inscrutable smile, which would seem inappropriate if it weren't reminiscent of her far more famous namesake. Seriously, though, I don't know what that look was all about. "Yes, you dumb bint, you never fucking shut up about it"? Hmm, maybe that's the one. Anyway, the attendants keep them moving along, as other women are waiting to use the mirror, and when Betty and Mona are out, one whispers to the other that if women's purses get any smaller, "we're gonna starve." Well, I didn't see you rushing over to touch up Betty's lipstick.
Don, one hand on the wheel and the other arm draped (heh) around Betty's shoulders, drives home as Betty tells him that she likes seeing him being social with other people, as it lets her see Don as other people see him. "When you're with strangers you know exactly what you want." Oh, dear. Don tells her he likes to think he knows what he wants all the time, and then Betty asks him to slow down, as her stomach isn't doing well at handling the combination of lobster and gimlets. Maybe it's just editorializing about Don's last comment there. Don wonders, having observed that she apparently drank more than usual at dinner, if she was nervous, but Betty brushes that off and notes that Roger likes Don. Don thinks the choice of restaurant does mean that Roger likes him. "When he gets us to the Four Seasons, then we'll know he trusts me." Heh. Betty thinks that Roger was simply trying to get Don to open up to him, but Don tells her that he was raised to consider it a sin of pride to go on about yourself. Betty rolls down the window and puts her head down to get some fresh air...
...but in bed, she continues the questioning, asking if Don had a nanny. Don eventually gives up that "of course" he didn't, but as for his family, "it's like politics, religion, or sex. Why talk about it?" Betty giggles, and they head into a round of not talking about Door Number Three...
...but later, Betty is sitting up in bed smoking as Don lies face down and asleep. She extinguishes her cigarette and slides down to him, whispering, "Who's in there?" Well, I suppose there's just as much chance of getting an answer now as when Don's awake.
Peggy is happily returning to her desk when Joan falls into step with her and tells her that she's got to focus on accessories now. Peggy proudly says that she's getting thirty-five bucks a week, minus $6.75 for FICA, which she adorably pronounces "FEE-cah." Joan's impressed with Peggy's spirit, if not with her paycheck, and calls her "indomitable" as they head into the ladies'. "You'd never know you were the very bottom of the food chain." Joan blows right by her, but Peggy stops when she sees a forty-ish woman, "Bridgette," crying at one of the mirrors. She asks if she's okay, but Joan signals Peggy to come on with a "non-speaking extra, what can you do" wave of her hand. Peggy, discomfited, moves away.
In Don's office, Ken is pulling some cans of Right Guard out of a box and saying that for the eighteen months, Gillette has a monopoly on the new invention of aerosol deodorant. Hearing this are Don, Sal, Paul, and some random, and the scene quickly devolves into the random and Sal playing Keep Away from Ken with one of the cans until Don says that they need to do more research. Catching the snap, the boys manhandle Ken onto the desk, pull off his shirt, and apply. Just then, Peggy opens the door and says that she was buzzing, and Bertram is waiting. But no more, as Robert Morse, wearing the character's perennial bow tie, appears and looks singularly unamused. "I always thought it was Sterling who was responsible for the Navy attitude around this place." Don counters, "Brassiere account. We just figured out we can't sell them to men." No offense to Robert Morse, but he's built a lot like Jerry Stiller, so I'm thinking a Bro/Mansiere might not be an impossible sale to him. Anyway, Don rushes out with a surreptitious annoyed side-eye to the boys, and then everyone chuckles at an irritated Ken's expense. Heh.
Outside, Roger has joined Don and Bertram, and they're there to talk about Nixon. Don says last he heard, Nixon was running without an agency, but Bertram replies: "Make no mistake -- we know better what Dick Nixon needs." And yet you're still pushing to represent him. Don mentions the famous "Checkers" TV spot in pointing out that Nixon's current setup has been proven to work, so why chase after him? The answer, though, is that certain corporate clients of theirs, Proctor & Gamble for one, would be much, much happier with Nixon in office, so they're going to help that interest along. "We will give our people what they want, agreed?" Behind Bertram, we see a fireball through the translucent glass to Don's door, and Ken's muted voice yells for them to cut it out. Hee. Like I said, Bertram, I hope you know what you're doing here. Don assents, and Bertram replies, "Goody." Hee, again. So awesome. He walks away, and Don notices that he's shoeless as Roger tells him to assemble a team. Roger in turn takes off, and then a breathless Paul emerges from the office and asks Don if they're still on for lunch. Don, preoccupied with matters Presidential, looks at his watch and curtly essays a negative before walking away. Peggy chooses that moment to pull out a paper bag, and Paul is chagrined to learn that she's going to eat at her desk. Not unseen by Joan's watchful eye, he offers to take her to the cart for lunch, but she declines, and when he disappears, Joan struts over with a "secretary one, copywriter zero." Heh. However, when Joan actually sees the contents of Peggy's bag, she tells Peggy to get her things, as the sandwich is making her sad. For me, it's the banana that's the problem -- I appreciate that the set designers get so many period-specific props, but I don't think the fruit should actually be from 1960.
In the packed break room, Ken shows Harry and the random guy a postcard from Pete, which offers them greetings "from the wettest place on Earth." My dirty mind is hardly blameless here, but still: "thanks" for the mental image, Pete. Joan enters with Peggy in tow, saying something about going to Lord and Taylor's, and the random guy makes an inappropriate comment before Ken offers to buy them lunch. Joan equivocates a bit and asks Peggy what she thinks, and Peggy offers that they do smell nice, causing Ken to bite his lip in frustration. Heh. After a little talk about Pete's honeymoon sex that causes Peggy to flinch just a little, Ken sticks the postcard on a nearby corkboard and the five of them head out...
...and we cut to a coffee shop, in which Ken is asking about Peggy's relationship status. Joan: "She's browsing. And like most of us, she's disappointed with the selection of merchandise." Heh. The boys are all varying degrees of gross to Peggy, prompting Joan to say they should head out of there, but Peggy can't get out of the booth without Ken putting his hand on her waist and saying she should take the rest of the afternoon off. "We could go to the zoo, see what the animals are up to." Given that she works with you all, Ken, wouldn't that be kind of a busman's holiday? Peggy manages to give him the slip, though, and after Joan tosses another disparaging comment Ken's way, they're out of there...
...but the escape isn't complete, as Paul catches Peggy returning to her desk and asks if she enjoyed herself "with the Hitler youth." Heh. Peggy tries to explain that blowing him off wasn't intentional, but Paul hands her a folder and tells her to make sure Don looks at the contents. He starts to leave, but turns back to tell her that she can look too. Take a lesson, Peg: you treat men like dirt, they won't be able to get enough of you. Believe me, I know, in both directions.
It's Francine (Anne Dudek)! She's Betty's best friend, and in her kitchen, she's bitching about some PTA president or other, prompting Betty to titter, "Francine, you're terrible." Yes, that is one of the reasons I love her. Also, Francine informs Betty, a woman named Helen Bishop is moving into the Dutch colonial down the street, and she's -- get this -- divorced. She doesn't suggest that they pin her down and paint a scarlet "D" on her chest, but given her tone, she might as well have. Francine adds that Helen has a nine-year-old boy and a baby, and that she can't imagine having to worry about money at this point in their lives. She then notices that the kids are being too quiet, and calls "Ernie" (presumably her son) and "Sally" (Draper) in. When Francine stands, we see that she's pregnant (not that that's stopping her from smoking, of course) and then the kids promptly appear, and Ernie announces that they're playing Spaceman. We see that Sally's wearing a plastic garment bag from the dry cleaner's over her head, and when Betty sharply calls her name, we expect to hear a safety lecture. Betty: "If the clothes from that dry cleaning bag are on the floor of my closet, you are going to be a very sorry young lady." Hee. The kids go away, and Francine says she hears the Helen situation might be bad for real estate prices in their area. Betty: "One divorcee." Betty, you've been in the suburbs for years. This can't be the first time you've ever heard the "there goes the neighborhood" mentality.
Betty's driving back home, and as the kids horse around in the back, the car passes the ostensible Helen Bishop, who's trying to wrangle some boxes out on the front lawn. After they've passed, Betty's hands start shaking, so we're probably meant to think that some anxiety about losing Don and being on her own is manifesting itself here. Before she knows it, she's lost control of the car and it runs up onto another lawn before stopping. Betty stares in shock at her trembling hands for a moment before rushing to the back seat and finding the kids unharmed and giggling down on the floor. She closes the door and sinks down to the ground...
...and we get further evidence that her vague fears aren't groundless, as Don is just finishing up in bed with Midge. He rolls off her and, noticing that she's got a television, asks about it, noting that she recently went off on a diatribe against the things. He gets her to admit that someone gave it to her, and the tone of the conversation, coupled with what we know about her, is enough to suggest that she doesn't have a policy against refusing gifts from gentleman callers. She tries to ask him if he's seen a show called People Are Funny, but Don's clearly kind of jealous, so Midge unceremoniously takes the TV, throws it out the window, and asks, "All better?" That depends, Midge -- did you hit any passers-by? And if not, why not? Don smiles and says yes, and Midge kind of endearingly drops the bravado and rushes to the window to see if she at least squashed a rat.
At home, Betty serves the kids dinner and sits down with them just as Don arrives home. Sally announces to him that they went to the hospital and got lollipops. Betty does not say, "Which you really should be sucking on right now instead of shooting off your big mouth," but Don seemingly already knows about it, as he asks no questions, just looks at Betty, who tells him they're fine. He asks about her, and she admits that she's a little sore and embarrassed. That must just remind her of her first sexual relationship. After a little talk about how she was only going twenty-five and how Don hates the way she drives, the kids leave the table, and Don asks what happened. Betty eventually admits that the thing with her hands happened "again," and Don urgently tells her she needs to get the problem taken care of, although it does sound like he wants that primarily so he won't have to hear about it anymore. Betty reluctantly tells him that she's been thoroughly checked out by multiple doctors, and there's nothing physically wrong with her, but she's been told that she should see a psychiatrist. This of course goes over about as well as one of Pete Campbell's typical pickup lines, and Don heatedly tells Betty that he'll get her to a specialist, and by the way, she should leave the dishes "for the girl."
Don does some shirtless push-ups, for which we're all very grateful, and then puts his pajama top on as Betty gets into bed. He tells her that he does worry about her, calling her by the affectionate nickname "Birdy" for the first time. She says she knows, but haltingly presses the case for therapy, saying that it doesn't have as much of a stigma as it used to. Don, his fire gone now, wonders what the shrink could possibly tell her, and says that he always thought people see psychiatrists when they're unhappy. Well, Don, leaving aside any thought of some cracks in the façade of your blissful marriage, as Betty just told us, her mom is barely cold in the grave. That can cause a surge of confusing and pent-up "emotions" for those of us with "feelings" in the first place. Anyway, Betty backs off, saying she'll do whatever he thinks is best. She turns out the light, but while Don closes his eyes immediately, she keeps hers open and looks pensively outward.
Paul enters Don's office and apologizes for being late to Don, Sal, Ken, and Random Guy for being late. Paul pitches a couple ideas involving Right Guard being part of the space age, but Don is unimpressed, basically saying that women aren't going to buy it (for their husbands) because some idiot astronaut wears it. His ultimate point is that they should be asking themselves what women want, and he wonders if there's some "mysterious wish" women have that they're ignoring. The boys look unhappy, because when it comes to figuring out what goes on inside women's heads, their unwillingness is exceeded only by their incompetence.
Paul emerges, and when Peggy asks him how it went, he tells her, "I've still got my novel." Aw. She tells him she's sorry, and he asks her to buy him lunch...
...but at the cart, Paul actually pays for Peggy's sandwich. As they walk away, he asks if she's got a handle on the company's power structure yet. Peggy says that she knows the copywriters tell the artists what to do, but when she starts to say that the account execs boss the copywriters around, Paul almost bites her head off. Just take the sandwich back time, dude. He tells her that the only person who tells the copywriters what to do is Don, before leading her into the media department, where he says ninety percent of the clients' money goes. "Creative is just window dressing -- it's thrown in for free." Well, it's good at least to know that in today's world, writers aren't taken for granted like that. No one's around, by the way, so I guess it's unheard of for anyone to hang out during lunch hour. Paul leads Peggy through Accounting and Accounts Management, the latter of which is filled, he says, with prep schoolers. "Account executives are always good at something, although it's never advertising." He points to the absent Pete as an example, and after a little bit where we learn that Paul is a Twilight Zone dork, he leads her back to her desk. As they unwrap their sandwiches, he tells her that there are women copywriters, even ones that are good at the job. He keeps babbling, about "Mary J" and oxtail dumplings and whatever, but Peggy eventually tells him she should get back to work, adding in a whisper that she thinks Don is still in his office. Paul takes his leave...
...and then we fade to later, when people are back at their desks. Roger comes into Don's office and, seeing him sitting by his coffee table having a drink, remarks that he can't get used to the fact that it always seems like Don isn't doing anything. Don't take this the wrong way, Roger, but I'd think that would make you view him as partner material. Don offers Roger a drink, and Roger sits on the couch, looks at his watch, and replies, "4:30? Close enough." How precious that he normally waits until five to start his second bender of the day. Roger tells Don that Bertram is going to want his Nixon team lineup soon, and he should know that it will have to include Pete. Don notes that going to Niagara Falls apparently does wonders for your career, and Roger snorts that Pete's choice of honeymoon spot shows that he "redefines 'lack of imagination.'" Among other things. Don asks Roger what women want, and Roger sneers, "Who cares." And you say your daughter's in therapy. And Don brings that up, but while Roger initially refuses to acknowledge that, he follows by saying that while he's comfortable with himself in every way, he's still not a woman. "And I think it behooves any man to toss all female troubles into the hands of a stranger." Um...all of them? Don takes Roger's meaning and recalls that they had a shrink when he was in the Army. "A gossip. Busting on other people's thoughts." Roger thinks the profession is still like that, and Don brings it around to what's troubling him, asking who could be unhappy in the world they now live in. It's interesting, of course, because the implication is that Don thinks he himself is happy, or at least wants other people to think he is, when I think it's pretty clear he's not. Maybe he's not un-happy, but that's not the same thing. Anyway, Roger thinks women want everything, especially things other women have. "Trust me -- psychiatry is just this year's candy pink stove." Roger finishes his drink, and on his way out, adds, "It's just more happiness." Heh. Don sits and thinks...
...and then he's arriving home, to find his kids watching People Are Funny. Heh. He greets them as "Beauty and the Beast," and then Betty starts to put out some dinner, and after Don kisses her, she notes, "Someone started on the train." Yes, someone who needed to catch up to Roger. He confesses that he actually started at the office, and then, kind of endearingly if overoptimistically giddy with anticipation, tells her he was wrong when he told her she had everything. With a big smile, he gives her a rather lovely white-gold watch. Betty thanks and kisses him, but as she goes to get more food, she asks if Don noticed the bruise under Sally's eye. Don didn't really, but Betty gets a little agitated, saying Sally could have gotten a scar, and that would have been okay happening to Bobby, as a boy with a scar is nothing, but for a girl, it's so much worse. So you won't mind if poor Bobby goes and slits his wrists now, then. Don, irritated that throwing some jewelry at the problem didn't work, points out that nothing happened, but Betty says she keeps thinking that she could have done worse than kill the kids -- she could have caused a permanent scar on Sally's face, condemning her to a long, lonely, miserable life. Wow. All I can say is that someone around here needs an extra-large candy pink stove. Betty sinks down into a chair and starts to cry, and Don, kind of horrified, gets up and rubs her shoulders. She asks what's happening to her, and if she needs to see someone, and he reluctantly concedes that she probably does. "Whatever you want." Betty doesn't look particularly comforted by his lack of conviction, which is understandable, but at least she got him to see reason here. So to speak.
Don is sitting and waiting by Midge's door when she comes stumbling in, noting that it's eleven in the morning. "Did you get fired?" Please. Society may have a death wish, but Sterling Cooper doesn't. Don tells her that he brought Betty in to see the doctor, but he himself isn't feeling so great, and called in sick. Midge tells him not to talk to her about Betty. "It makes me feel cruel." So you probably don't want to hear about her meltdown at dinner, I'm thinking. Don stands and accedes to her request, and then offers, "I can't decide if you have everything, or nothing." And that is exactly why you are living in both these worlds. Midge, emboldened, says she lives in the moment, and after kissing him, adds, "Nothing is everything." Existential philosophy does tend to make more sense on no sleep. Midge then says that she lost her key, and asks Don if he would be a gentleman and break in through the fire escape so she doesn't have to. Don stares at her, and then wordlessly hands her his hat. Heh.
Sal comes to ask Peggy if Don is in yet, but when she tells him he's sick, Sal says he's leaving. "Don't tell anyone I was here." This reminds Peggy of something...
...and then she's knocking on Paul's door, who calls from inside, "Bienvenue!" Peggy: "No, it's Peggy!" Hee. Inside, she tells him that since Don's not in, she can't go out to lunch. Paul duhs that that actually means she can, but Peggy's worried that Don will call, and since it's only her second week, she'd like to reschedule. Paul gets up and goes to the door, and before Peggy really has a chance to process what he's doing, he's closed the door and is kissing her. She doesn't stop him at first, merely asking if he wants something from the cart, but when he kisses her again, she mildly discourages it. When he blatantly propositions her, however, she makes it clear that that's not cool, and he thinks it's because she already belongs to someone else. "I don't even like to sit in Don's chair." And I'm sure he'd be just heartbroken to hear that. Peggy says she thinks they've misunderstood each other, and Paul nods, but before she goes, he asks for confirmation that there is someone else. Peggy, given a variation on the Bitch Or Slut choice that has been infuriating women time out of mind, goes with the proffered option and tells him yes before leaving.
Later, Peggy is typing away when she looks at the clock and sees it's just past 4:30. We cut to her starting to close down her station, but Joan comes over with "nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh" written all over her face, and despite Peggy's assertion that she's not feeling so great, Joan produces some letters that Peggy typed after lunch that apparently would make the founder of Reading Is Fundamental cringe. Peggy says she'll redo them, but Joan catches the edge in her tone and lingers. Peggy snappishly asks if Joan is going to watch her, but Joan doesn't know what it is to be intimidated, and forcefully asks what's wrong with her. Peggy takes a moment and then asks why it is that whenever a man takes you to lunch around there, you're the dessert. Joan softens like the strawberry shortcake she so often is and says that's terrible. Peggy says it's constant, from all sides. "I'm from Bay Ridge. We have manners!" Aw. Her Brooklyn pride is so cute! Joan's sympathy only goes so far, though, saying that she doesn't know Peggy that well, but she's the new girl. "And you're not much, so you might as well enjoy it while it lasts!" Peggy looks back down, but Joan's trying to be nice, saying she's just offering some perspective. And as awful a truth it is, it's valid -- she's basically telling Peggy to imagine how she's going to feel when the men don't pay attention to her. Peggy swallows and thanks Joan, but Joan doesn't let her forget about correcting her typos.
Sometime soon after, Peggy is retyping the letters when she looks up, and we get a quick montage of a bunch of guys checking her out. She then opens her desk drawer, and we see she's lifted the postcard that Pete sent to Ken from the bulletin board. I doubt that move is in the Bay Ridge Edition of Miss Manners. We cut to Peggy entering the bathroom, upset, but with the help of the mirror, she sees another girl sniffling around the corner. Elisabeth Moss is awesome here as she looks at her reflection, and in a moment, she's a completely different person, like, "I am not going to be that girl." She in fact tugs on her scarf, presumably to make herself look just that little bit more attractive, and heads out as the other girl sobs. If you've never understood "less is more" with regard to TV, you will after you see this scene.
Betty is lying on the couch with her psychotherapist Dr. Wayne (Andy Umberger, who totally played D'Hoffryn on Buffy). As he takes notes without speaking, she tells him that she's anxious and doesn't sleep that well. She starts to mention her hands, but when she holds them up, she notes that they're fine at the moment, which she likens to having a problem with your car that disappears when you go to the mechanic. At his continuing silence, she changes the subject, speculating that a lot of people must come to see him because they're afraid of the bomb, and then brings it around to actual relevance, saying that her mother always taught her that it wasn't polite to talk about "yourself." She fiddles with her watch and takes it off as she says that her mom passed recently, and then realizes she already said that. Somewhere, Mona's rolling her eyes all, "You don't know the half of it, honey." Betty asks if she can smoke, and Dr. Wayne silently pushes an ashtray toward her. Once she lights up, she remarks, "We're all so lucky to be here." You'll notice the mechanic isn't sending you home, dear.
Midge wakes a shirtless Don up, saying it's 7:30. We see she's dressed, and she says she's got to head to Roy's (Roy!) reading. "I have to be there to act surprised when Jack Kerouac doesn't show." HA! Oh my God, I don't have that much use for Midge, but I forgot how many points she gets for that line. She shows Don her new key, which is fastened to a chain around her neck, and tells him to lock the door when he leaves. After they kiss, she informs him that he should take a shower, if he's going home, as he stinks, so I guess she's trying not to be cruel. He replies that he stinks because he's a man, and asks her what women want. Midge: "Well, one of the things has to be not being asked something like that." Heh. Don uses her offhand answer, though, musing, "What do women want? You know better than to ask." He then grabs a pen and comes up with the real McCoy: "What do women want? Any excuse to get closer." He smiles in triumph, and Midge gives an answering smile: "There's that ego people pay to see." She leaves him...
...and we cross-fade into a restaurant, in which Betty and a presumably freshly-showered Don are sitting in a small semicircular booth. They order food, with Betty making several decisive choices that probably signal her initial happiness with being in therapy, and then after their drinks come, Don asks how her day was. She tells him it was fine, and after he makes a lightly disparaging comment about doctors, he tells her that he read the phone company wants to start charging people for unlisted numbers, and because of that, some people are giving aliases to Ma Bell, and most of those are pornographic, like "Pat MaGroin." Huh -- I don't recall ever seeing that one on a substitute teacher's attendance list. Betty giggles girlishly, and then takes Don's hand and says, "This is nice." Don's too happy about the apparent accuracy of his new slogan to flinch at the display of intimacy.
Later, Don and Betty arrive home, and Don tells Betty he'll be right up. He goes to make a phone call...to Dr. Wayne, who tells him that Betty is "a very anxious young woman. I think you're doing the right thing." Don closes the door to the study, and we pan around to the darkened kitchen as the Cardigans' "The Great Divide" plays. An anachronistic music choice, to be sure, but there aren't a lot of songs from that period that start off with similar sentiments to "There's a monster growing in our heads." The song continues as we go to closing credits.