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Duck brings word that Martinson's Coffee might be willing to jump ship from Grey's, so they bring in those Smith kids they apparently hired a few episodes ago, who give Don the insight that the younger generation doesn't want to be told what to do or how to act. The Smiths pitch a campaign in this vein, which is a success, and Duck and Don congratulate each other. Don's the only one who gets kudos from Bertram and Roger, though, and they in fact invite Don to get involved in a philanthropic cause, the idea being that Don will be a far more visible representative of SC than he has been in the past. In that vein, they get Don to buy a Coupe de Ville, which leads to a flashback to a time when he was a used-car salesman and a woman came to see him who knew he wasn't the real Don Draper.
Bertram has a new, expensive painting in his office that everyone's curious about, and Jane leads Ken, Sal, and Harry on an expedition to check it out, but Joan gets wind of it, as she always does, and cans Jane in a flash. Jane, however, through a damsel-in-distress routine that might or might not be genuine, gets Roger to intercede on her behalf, which of course means that Joan ends up thinking Jane is her replacement, and sure isn't happy about it. Meanwhile, Ken's unforeseen appreciation for the art endears him to Sal, as does his request that Sal look over a new story of his. Sal invites Ken over for dinner with him and his wife, and the gay desire coming off Sal makes Ken vaguely uncomfortable and his wife upset and jealous.
Finally, Jimmy calls Betty and invites her and Don to a party for Grin And Barrett, but makes it clear that he's more interested in her than her husband. At the party, Jimmy gets Betty alone and strongly insinuates that Bobbie and Don have been having an affair, a supposition that she doesn't want to hear. He then tells Don to his face that he's trash, and all the tension and intrigue causes Betty to yak in the Cadillac. That'll just kill the resale value.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!A pair of feet circles a car on a shiny showroom floor, and we pan up to see Don checking out the new luxury offering. A British accent cuts into his thoughts: "Afraid you'll fall in love?" Well, let him get a look at you first. No, the salesman is of course referring to the car, and tells Don he has good taste to be drawn to the 1962 Coupe de Ville. "It does everything but make breakfast." The guy slags off Don's Dodge and then hits on him for real ("Someone like you, you don't need to see yourself in a Cadillac; you're walking about in one every day") and tells him he'd be as comfortable in one of the cars as he is in his own skin. Might want to retool the pitch a little bit in Don's case. They exchange business cards, and the salesman recognizes the company name and asks if Roger sent him, and upon hearing an affirmative, goes to get the keys. Once alone again, Don sees a guy checking out another of the showroom's models, and we cross-fade into...
...a used-car dealership. Don, hair a bit less heavily slicked than he wears it in the show's present day, pitches a used car to a college-aged boy and his father. A blonde woman enters and looks pointedly at Don, so he hands the keys over to the boy and sends him off to sit in the car again and have a chat with his dad. The woman asks if he's Don Draper, and he affirms that, but when he starts to say he's sure he can find her a car, she tells him that's not why she's there, and that he's a hard man to find. He freezes a little behind his eyes, and when she goes on, "You're not Don Draper," his smile fades. The British salesman's voice cuts in...
...and then we're back in the showroom, where he goes on, "Let me take you for a ride." Dude, don't bogart all the gay innuendo -- Sal's got a storyline coming up. Don's flashback, however, has soured his enthusiasm, and he leaves in a hurry. The salesman doesn't say, "You'll be back," but he's surely thinking it.
Jane's typing away when Roger shows up and greets her warmly. After learning that Don's not in but will be back, he references her rather form-fitting sweater in saying, "Where'd you get that? I want to make sure my daughter never buys it." A "how the heck do I answer this" sentiment clearly plays over Jane's face for a moment, but she recovers admirably: "Klein's. I doubt your daughter shops there." He tries to segue into asking where she lives, but she tells him, not for the first time, that he can just look at her file. She's then rescued by the return of her boss, and Roger asks her to get Duck in there as well. And I don't want to condone sexual harassment at all, but as Jane stands up I have to admit that Roger has a point, much like each of Jane's breasts, which look like they could take your eyes out if you're not careful during foreplay. As Roger heads into Don's office, Jane tells Don that Bobbie called "again," but didn't leave a message. She then goes to get Duck...
...leaving Roger the opportunity to use the subject of the Cadillac to make more lewd comments about Jane. He then reads in Don's face what happened at the showroom, and thus tells him that he can afford the car, and besides, "like the song says, enjoy yourself. It's later than you think." Duck enters, and after we learn that Martinsons Coffee has dropped the "s" from its name, Duck announces, "Jim van Dyke told the people at Grey that they're under review." Don makes the obvious speculation that Grey must be scrambling, and Duck confirms that among other things, they have "some kids" working on print and TV concepts. Roger asks if they're better than their kids, and Don replies that they'll find out, which I suppose means that they'll be letting the Smith non-brothers out from whatever broom closet Joan's had them locked up in since the season premiere. Duck bitches that he had to go bird-watching with the Martinson guy to get this information, and then Jane buzzes that the Smiths are there. Roger: "Did you let them stay up late?" I bet elbows are thrown in the writers' room over who gets to do Roger's lines. Duck and Don then flirt with each other to drive home the point that they're no longer enemies, but we don't get to see Roger's proud "I did that!" face.
Outside, the Smith without the accent is hitting on Jane, who really is not having it at all, and then Don comes out and collects them. Inside, American Smith, whom I'll call "Smith," says that obviously Don wants to know how their generation feels. Don: "Okay." Hee. He reads something a friend sent him, which is some idealistic proto-hippie talk about how power should be rooted in love and creativity rather than in possessions or family name, and European Smith, whom I'll call "Smeeth," agrees. The way it relates to the coffee, Smith says, is that while Don's generation wants to talk about the design of the can and the quality of the beans, Smith's doesn't want to be told what they should do or how they should act. He asks Don to listen to something, but we don't hear what...
...as we instead cut to a conference-room meeting in which Paul is pouring liquid into a disposable diaper to demonstrate its efficacy, explaining that they'd like to have registered nurses going around to maternity wards and demonstrating how they work. Ken asks what Don said, and Peggy tells him he liked it, but he's concerned about the price point. Ken sighs that he can't get Procter and Gamble to lower it, and anyway, he thinks they're worth it. Sal, however, opines that ten cents apiece is too steep, although I'd bet he'll be willing to pay through the nose for Depends when he gets to the appropriate age. Jane enters with some papers she says contain ideas that Don would like them all to discuss, and after she and Ken share a small smile, Harry enters and asks if they're going out, as it's five o'clock. Peggy takes the papers from Jane and exits, which means that her experience at the Tom Tom Club was either terrible or way too good. The boys enlist Jane's help in cleaning all the Pampers stuff up, and while they work, Harry tells them that he's meeting with Bertram the day. "Me and only me." Ken asks if that isn't from West Side Story, and lest you think his infatuation only started with the painting, Sal's head snaps up with so appreciative a grin you'd think Ken just channeled Dorothy Parker. Paul thinks that Bertram is merely going to ask Harry about a new painting he just got, as apparently he's been calling people in to get their opinion. Sal adds that he heard it cost ten grand, and Harry asks how they know about this. "Are you making it up?" Heh. Ken tries to impress Jane by saying that last year, they sent Harry up to the roof to look for cosmonauts. I hope that's in the Extras section of the DVD. Anyway, the painting is apparently of the Abstract Expressionism ilk, but no one in the room has seen it, so Jane suggests they simply go look at it. Harry thinks they can't do that, but Jane tells them Bertram's gone for the day. Ken: "That doesn't matter." Heh, again. Jane declares her intention to go, and the boys follow her. So wait, is she a Jackie or a Marilyn? Oh, sorry, I guess that was last week.
So Jane's rack leads the boys to Bertram's door, where she calls them pussies and double-dog-dares them to come in with her, but Ken at least has the presence of mind to get them to remove their shoes before they all lemming their way in. Also, Ken comments, "I feel like we're skinny dipping," which elicits yet another overapproving smile from Sal. Honey, if you were more experienced, you might have the straight guys out of your system. Might. Paul actually bails, although he'd probably justify it with some beatnik sentiment or other, and then when they enter, Sal sniffs dismissively that it's a Rothko, while Harry can't believe the thing cost ten grand, and sweats about what to say to Bertram about it. Ken, however, is moved, saying that viewing it is like looking and falling into something very deep. Sal can't quite believe that such a sentiment came out of Ken's mouth, but before he can, um, plumb Ken's unexplored depths further, Harry hurries them all out...
...and the rest of them get into the elevator as Ken chuckles that Harry actually took the stairs, presumably to avoid running into anyone. Jane mischievously says they could have stolen the painting, and Sal asks, "Who are you?" in wonder. Ken thinks he could write a great short story about the day they looked at the painting, and uses this as a segue to tell Jane he's a published writer. Jane's typically unimpressed, but Sal recalls the story about the maple tree, which he opines was beautiful and sad. Ken's thrilled that he read it, and Sal tells him everyone did, and they were jealous of his talent. Ken then again unsuccessfully attempts to hit on Jane, making her the only person in the elevator not guilty of repeatedly barking up the wrong tree.
The day, Paul catches Ken at the coffee vendor, and Ken tells him Jane is a "genuine thrill." Paul, however, wants to know about Bertram's painting -- until Joan's voice cuts in; "What about Mr. Cooper's painting?" Ken doesn't waste time hemming and hawing, instead running immediately for the hills, so Jane grabs Paul by the arm and says that she heard he, Ken, and Jane were in Bertram's office the night before. Hmm -- maybe Harry did in fact escape attention by taking the stairs, but I wonder how Sal got off scot-free. Maybe it was Lois who gave the report -- that at least would be consistent with the barking up the wrong tree theme. Anyway, Paul denies that he was there, and Joan dismisses him with silky thanks.
Sal is arguing with Smith and Smeeth over artwork, and when Ken appears, Sal tells Smith this: "Three o'clock. And [Smeeth] doesn't talk in the meeting." Heh. When they're alone, Ken, kind of nervously, which is quite endearing, tells Sal that he was thinking about what he said about his story, and he's not like everyone else at SC. Sal doesn't panic, probably seeing where Ken is going with this, and Ken, after a little more hesitation, hands over a copy of another story he's written and asks Sal to read it. Sal is touched, and Ken tells him not to pull any punches, unless he hates it. "I'm kind of fragile." The surprises keep on coming. Sal says he'd be honored, but doesn't let Ken get away without inviting him to dine with him and his wife Kitty that Sunday. Ken's a bit hesitant, but agrees, and I have to compliment the acting by Aaron Staton and Bryan Batt in this whole storyline, because they both, in different ways, succeed in conveying that on some level, they know that this is A Bad Idea Indeed.
The Martinson people are in the conference room, and Don is saying that young people don't drink coffee, and that can become a lifetime habit. If that's true, how the heck did college students actually get their work done back then? I slung coffee for a year in college myself, and I can attest with certainty that people weren't drinking it for the taste. Don goes on that unsuccessful attempts have been made to lure in younger drinkers, and gives as an example "Puppets and so forth," with perfect disdain. Not that I wouldn't have started drinking coffee at age five if I'd seen those ads, but this is Don we're talking about. He gives the floor to Smith, who lets us know that the expression "cup of joe" was coined in honor of Joe Martinson, but that that's ancient history, and his generation doesn't want to be told what to do, and just wants to feel. This idea might be annoying to hear repeatedly from Smith if it wasn't reflective of the struggle for all forms of societal identity that this show, at its core, is always about. Well, okay, it's still annoying, but it at least serves a purpose. The Martinson guy's "...Okay" echoes Don's from earlier, but Smith has Peggy play what we didn't hear him play for Don, which is a recording of a song set to calypso music advertising Martinson as an "exotic brew." Smeeth wins me over a little bit by chair-dancing, and though the Martinson guy doesn't really get it at first, when he asks Peggy what she thinks, she confidently smiles. "It stays with you." He then asks what pictures would go with it, and Don replies, "If you sign, we'll tell you." To be that sure of himself, he must really not be able to get the song out his head.
Harry comes in for his much-anticipated meeting with Bertram, who starts talking about media purchases, but Harry's distracted by the painting, and Bertram tells him to focus. "We didn't make you Head of Television just to shorten your attention span!" Heh, nice. Harry apologizes, but says he was drawn to the painting, and eventually asks Bertram what he thinks of Rothko. Bertram takes a long moment. "Nobody has ever asked me that." Bertram giveth... "Probably because it's none of their business." ...and Bertram taketh away. Harry's chastened, but Bertram softens enough to ask him what he thinks. Harry confesses he knows nothing about art, and Bertram tells him he's there because of numbers, and counsels him to stick to that arena. However, with a note of slyness, he adds, "People buy things to realize their aspirations. It's the foundation of our business. But between you and me and the lamppost, that thing should double in value by Christmas." Harry catches Bertram's drift with a grin, and they get back to work. If Bertram weren't a little old for it, I'd wonder if he went on to invent eBay.
Betty's fixing Sally's hair when the phone rings, and she answers to find it's Jimmy, who calls her "the belle of the Hudson River Valley." She greets him warmly enough and tells him Don's at the office, but he informs her that ABC gave Grin And Barrett a thirty-nine episode commitment. Sometimes you don't need the set design and wardrobe to remind you that this was a different era. Betty congratulates him, and Jimmy tells her they're having a "shindig" Monday night at The Stork Club, and since he didn't hear back from Don, he's wondering if she's the one that "book[s] the dance card." Betty smiles and says she'll talk to Don about it, but Jimmy needs more, saying she can't leave him alone with "those people." He suggests she ride a horse in like Lady Godiva, and Betty, although she laughs, is familiar enough with the reference that she thinks it's a good time to end the conversation. Jimmy drops the act and tells her it would mean a lot to him if she were to come, and Betty gives the appropriate response: "We will try." As she hangs up, however, she calls him "Jimmy" instead of "Mr. Barrett," so he managed to score a point after all.
Duck comes in to tell Don that they got the Martinson account, and they congratulate each other's work in a sincerely warm manner. The mood is ruined, however, when Jane comes in and tells Don that Bertram wants to speak with him -- just him. Everyone tries to ignore the awkward, but after Don leaves, Jane has the presence of mind not to leave Duck alone with Don's rye. She must have watched last week's episode.
Don enters Bertram's office, shoes already off, to find Roger and Bertram awaiting him. In answer to Bertram's congratulations, Don tries to tell him his success wasn't all due to him. Bertram: "Fascinating." I do not think that word means what he thinks it means. Roger tells Don that Jim van Dyke was so impressed with Don that he's inviting him to join the board of the Museum of Early American Folk Arts. Don actually manages to come up with a reaction more enthusiastic than "...", which is more than I'd expect of him or, for that matter, anyone. Roger goes on that the museum doesn't actually exist yet, but Bertram chimes in that he's seen the opening exhibit. "Whirligigs." Heh. The bosses get to the point right about now, which is that they need Don not only to continue being as brilliant as he is at Creative, but also to start becoming more of a face of SC -- as Bertram puts it, "You're going to be wearing your tuxedo a lot more." So everyone's a winner, then. Don seems happy enough with this development, but then Bertram dismisses Roger to ask if Don would agree that he knows a little bit about him. Don, not wanting to spend excessive thought on a memory involving Pete, concedes that Bertram knows something. Bertram isn't interested in dredging up anything, though, instead telling Don, basically, that there are few people in this world who really call the shots, and he's been invited to join their ranks. "Pull back the curtain, and take your seat."
And that's just what Don does, as he's back in the Cadillac showroom, sitting in the Coupe, and without even taking it for a drive, he tells the salesman he'd like to buy it. Don, at least negotiate with him. I bet he'll give you rustproofing and an extended warranty for free.
Joan and her enormous rack come to take on Jane and her slightly less-enormous rack, and you'd just need to put them in leather catsuits to have a sci-fi fan's wet dream. Joan repeats what she told Paul, and when Jane tries to deny it, Joan replies, "I'm not in the habit of making empty accusations." Jane then tries to say that the boys made her do it, which makes me think anything out of her mouth is a lie, not that Roger's going to care either way. Joan is live to the fact that Jane's lying, though, given that Jane's status as Don's secretary gives her sway even over the boys, and her boobs seem to be growing even larger in anticipation of her victory. Jane then completely switches tacks and snottily tells Joan she doesn't need a mother, and it's nice of her to say exactly the right things to make me want to stand up and cheer when Joan cans her psycho ass. Jane can't believe it, but she had to learn that Joan, much like her rack, is for real.
Betty comes outside and gushes over the new ride, and she and Don hop in together. He seems genuinely pleased at her enthusiasm, and she adds that he deserves it, as he works so hard. She then brings up Jimmy's party, which Don didn't yet know about, and speculates that Jimmy likes talking to her. However, since she's not showing any skin, Don doesn't get upset, and Betty suggests they take a ride. Don: "Not in here." Heh.
Jane's carrying her things, but instead of heading to the elevator, she goes straight to Roger's office. She knocks and enters, and tells him goodbye. Roger says that "Draper's a tough desk," but when Jane tells him it was Joan who fired her, he offers her a drink and the opportunity to tell him what happened. She gets a little teary as she says she's just trying to do her job, and Roger tells her that Joan is going through a tough time. "She's engaged, you know." Heh. Jane convincingly quivers her lower lip and Roger finally manages to elicit her address from her ("Jane on Jane Street. It's a pretty picture") and then tells her to go home and come back on Monday, and the whole thing will have been taken care of. Joan does not strike me as the type to forgive, let alone forget, so you'd think Roger is offering to directly intervene. The fact that he doesn't makes me think either that he doesn't find Jane all that attractive, or, far more likely, he's starting to lose it. Not being aware of this at this moment, though, Jane thanks Roger effusively, and leaves.
Sal's home with his wife Kitty, who's being played (unrecognizably, to me) by Sarah Drew, who Everwood fans will remember as Hannah. The bell rings, and Kitty answers it to find Ken with a big bouquet and compliments on how great the meal smells. Kitty passes the credit to "the Maestro," and given everything that's going to happen she might as well hand the flowers off to him as well. Sal shakes Ken's hand and goes to get him a drink, and Ken takes in the décor, which I can't see much of at this point but still might describe as sixties kitsch. Kitty gives credence to this by saying that she and Sal "let [them]selves go," and then tells him that she grew up a block away from Sal in Baltimore. "I guess I just always had a crush on an older man." Nothing wrong with that -- what made you pick a gay one instead? Sal adds that when he moved his mother up there (like the good Italian he is), Kitty came as well, and then gets Ken to taste the sauce: "Be honest. I'm fragile." Heh. Ken loves it, but then tells Sal he doesn't want to keep worrying about what he thought, so: What did he think? Sal assures Ken that he loved the story, and Kitty chimes in that he wouldn't stop talking about it, but also wouldn't let her read it. Sal's outside voice: "I didn't know how you felt." Sal's inside voice: "When I read your story, it was like we were the only two people in the world, and my wife horning in would have been weird for a host of reasons from which you can take your pick." More pleasantries are exchanged, and then Sal proposes a toast to the story, which just so happens to be episode-titled "The Gold Violin." Ken tells Sal that he saw one at the Met. "It's perfect in every way, except it couldn't make music." A lot of people would find that an appropriate nickname for Ace Young, then. (That one's for Joe R.) The food is served, and Sal digs in as heartily as you might expect from someone who's sublimating hardcore.
The Cadillac is parked with the radio playing, and we see it's near its owners, who are having a picnic. Don lazily wonders where Bobby is, and then asks Sally if she'd really rather play checkers than "my look at the clouds game." If I weren't old enough to smoke pot, I admit I'd feel the same way. Sally tells Don what she'd really rather do is play with Silly Putty, but Don tells her he doesn't want it in the car. Betty bails on the checkers game in order to lie against Don, but Bobby tries to ruin the mood by rushing up and doing a pee-pee dance. Don tells him to go behind a tree, as no one's looking. Okay, but be sure to tell him this is a one-time thing. You don't want him killing your rosebushes. Sally says she wants to "tinkle outside," prompting Don to tell her that when he was a boy on the farm, they had an outhouse that was way out in the yard, and on nights when there was no moon to see by, they had to feel their way out there using a rope. Now that's a time I could see going behind a tree. Sally laughs that she's glad they don't live in "the olden days," and then asks if they're rich. Betty, after a glance at Don, says it's not polite to talk about money, although her point is slightly stepped on when Bobby runs up and rejoices at his success in marking the nearby foliage. Don takes this as their cue to leave, but not before he chucks his empty beer can away and they leave a bunch of garbage on the grass. Don, give a hoot. Don't be an asshole.
So now that dinner's been cleared away, we can get to the Un!Comfortable! part of the evening, and without delving too deeply into the specifics, let's just say that while Kitty tries a couple times to involve herself in the conversation, Sal is looking at Ken like he's the quarterback of the football team and the best talent in the drama club rolled into one. Much as someone with those typically dichotomous abilities might feel, Ken is uncomfortable, and tries to head out. Sal stalls him with a smoke, but only for a moment, and Ken leaves, saying that it's okay for Kitty to read the story. Once Ken's gone, Kitty points out how insular Sal was being with all the shop talk. "Do you even see me here?" Well, I'd wager he's going to great lengths to block out certain parts of you. She's deeply hurt, and he apologizes, seemingly genuinely. With an effort, she lets it go, and he offers to clean up from dinner so she can put her feet up. She still doesn't look thrilled, but accepts the offer, because if you're going to marry a gay guy, you might as well wait until he's done the dishes to really call him out. As he clears up, though, Sal finds a lighter that Ken left behind. I'm not a hundred percent clear on the secret codes that existed back then, but I'm pretty sure that means they're supposed to meet down by the docks at midnight.
On Monday morning, Ken tries again with Jane, but she's even more motivated to blow him off than usual, telling him not to lurk by her desk, as she's "being watched." Honey, you'll be lucky if that's all Joan does to you. Ken then sees Sal in the break room and comes in to wish him good morning, and says he wants to thank both him and Kitty. "Every once in a while you wish you weren't a bachelor, you know?" He goes on to say that the way Sal and Kitty are is kind of what he has in mind, and this is where the straight guys can kill you, if you don't take what they say at precise and literal face value. Sal, unable to stand it, bails.
Jane, hilariously, keeps looking around warily for the storm she knows is coming her way, and soon, looking like a much bustier White Witch from the Narnia stories, Joan does come striding up to Jane's desk and demands to know what she's doing there. Jane hesitates for a moment, but gathers her courage and asks if Roger spoke with her. Joan says no, and wonders what he could possibly have to do with this. Jane: "I'll do whatever you want, but he said you do this a lot. Lose your temper -- that you're impetuous, and it's not serious." Joan stares for a long moment, no doubt thinking that of all the blows Roger could have sent her way, calling her "not serious" is about the lowest he could land. She asks what Jane was doing talking to Roger, and Jane, sensing that she's suddenly winning the conversation, airily says she ran into him on her way out. She perhaps pushes too hard in rather smugly asking if there's a problem, and Joan replies that there isn't. "It's very clear." If you know Joan, you won't be surprised to hear that there's more steel in her voice than in Don's new Caddy, and once she leaves, Jane drops the bravado and looks rather afraid. As well she should, because I'm starting to think Roger would sooner fake another heart attack than actually confront Joan in person.
Party time! Betty enters on the arm of her husband, who's wearing a white tux, and after they exchange some romantic words, an ABC honcho comes over, followed by Bobbie, and if her wrists are still sore from their last meeting, she doesn't show it. Instead, she asks if the ABC guy told him about her newest product-placement ideas for the show, and Betty takes this as her cue to go get them drinks while they talk shop...
...and later, she's still off on her own when Jimmy finds her. He offers her some champagne, which she tries to decline, saying she's had enough to drink already, but he unsurprisingly insists. "The drunker you are, the funnier I become." My own research does not support that conclusion. They sit, and Jimmy, after musing that he's been standing behind guys like Don his whole life, wastes no time in speculating that Don and Bobbie have been involved. Betty tries to flee from this ugly verisimilitude, but he pulls her back and tells her he doesn't like it any more than she does. Betty chokes out that "you people" are ugly and crude. She stalks off, and Jimmy calls after her, "What people? You mean comedians?" Hey, he made me laugh! And I haven't even had a drink!
Kitty knits in bed while Sal sits with a drink and a cigarette, watching TV. My guess is that this is not exactly what Ken's aspiring to. With a furtive glance Kitty's way, Sal lights his smoke with Ken's lighter. Make your own joke -- innuendo really exhausts me after a while.
Back at the party, Don's getting Betty's coat when Jimmy accosts him. Jimmy plays nice at first, saying that thanks to Don, he got everything he wanted. "What did you get? Bobbie? Lots of people have had that." He just stopped playing nice, in case I didn't make that clear. Don tries to play dumb, but Jimmy's in no mood: "You. You want to step out, fine. Go to a whore. You don't screw another man's wife. You're garbage. And you know it." Don looks positively stunned, both by the fact that his actions are far more transparent than he realized and that he just got told how things are so vehemently, but then Betty appears, which is Jimmy's cue to plaster on a fake smile and get the hell out of there. Husband and wife exchange uncertain and baleful looks...
...and the mood continues on the car ride home until Betty speeyacks all over the front seat. Say what you will about his old Dodge, but I'd bet it was a lot more absorbent.
time: All kinds of manure may be hitting the fan, as it looks like Joan might learn Don's secret, Father Gill might get Peggy to talk about her kid, and Betty might confront Don about his infidelity.
John Ramos is a writer and producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at couchbaron@gmail.com.