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Connie calls Don in the middle of the night and demands a proposal by noon the day, so Don heads into the office before the sun comes up and happens to come across Sally's teacher, who's out for a run. Don confesses to being fascinated by her, but she turns him down when he asks her to have coffee with him. However, when he shows up to her house late on another night, despite the fact that she points out how reckless it is to do this so close to home, she takes him to bed, which probably will obviate the need for her morning run.
All the work Hilton's demanding is making Don even crabbier than usual with Creative, as well as an insomniac. Hilton then calls Don to his hotel for a late-night meeting and tells him it's his dream and duty to bring America to the rest of the world, and says he wants goodness and confidence to be part of his ad campaign. He drunkenly tells Don that he's like a son to him, even more so than his own, and Don seems genuinely touched. He's less so, however, when after a pitch meeting Don thought was great, Connie clears out the room and chews Don out for not taking something he said about going to the moon literally and incorporating it into the campaign. Roger later comes in to Don and tells him he needs help from Accounts to keep the clients happy, despite his apparent belief that he can do it all.
Betty's dreaming about Francis, and she starts a mail correspondence with him that leads to him impetuously coming to her house. When Carla catches them, he covers with a story about how the Draper house would be great for a fundraiser, but Carla's mother didn't raise a fool, even though Betty keeps up the charade and actually goes through with the event. She's disappointed, though, when Francis sends a proxy in his stead, and the day, she petulantly takes the strongbox with the contributions and literally throws it at him, but when she realizes that having her come to him on this exact errand was his plan, they kiss, but she then tells him it can't go any further than that, and ends things, this time for good, I think.
Finally, Sal's directing a commercial for Lucky Strike, and the younger client from the pilot, Lee Garner Jr., is on hand to make a pass at him. Sal tries to tell Lee he's got the wrong idea, but Lee is very assured in his assessment of Sal's true orientation, causing Sal quite a bit of consternation, and that's without knowing that Lee then drunkenly calls Harry and tells him he needs to get Sal off the commercial. Harry decides to do nothing, hoping that Lee was so drunk he either didn't mean it or won't remember, but when Lee shows up to see the finished product, he takes one look at Sal and heads for the door, and the result is that Roger fires Sal on the spot, which is a lot worse than just being taken off the commercial. Roger then sends Harry in to Don to tell him to fix the whole thing, after which Sal confesses the truth to Don, but, rather upsettingly, Don tells Sal he should have submitted to Lee's advances before shaking his hand and telling him he'll do fine outside of SC. In the end, Sal calls his wife and tells her he won't be home, which I can only assume means he's either going to sleep with Lee or kill him. Not sure which would be the better option for Sal, but I know which one I'd prefer.
Want more? The full recap starts right below! So last week, I said there was a continuity error involving Francis and Betty's car door. However, as was kindly pointed out to me by a couple readers, he actually leaned in front of the door, which was significant because it served to prevent her from leaving, putting a somewhat different tone on the whole thing. And speaking of Francis......Betty dreams of lying on the awful monstrosity and having Francis (since I can't see his face, I'm not sure it's actually the actor, but it's certainly meant to be the character) open her dress and run his finger down her chest. However, she's unceremoniously yanked into consciousness by the phone ringing, and I have to thank Connie for his timing, as he spared me having to regard the pink behemoth any longer. We see that it's night, and Don reaches across Betty and clumsily grabs the phone, which has awoken not only the two of them but also the baby, and as I mentioned, it's Connie, who asks, "Do you ever pray on a difficult problem?" Well, it wouldn't surprise me if he were currently seeking guidance from above on the problem of getting through this conversation without cursing you out. Betty gets up to attend to the baby, leaving Don to fumblingly grab pencil and paper to jot down Connie's further ruminations, and Connie doesn't disappoint, saying that New York City isn't a domestic destination. There are a couple ways he could mean that, neither of which I'd agree with even back then, but since Don still hasn't woken up enough to do anything other than mumble "What?" it hardly seems worth spending any time on. Connie waits for no sleepy man and moves on to ask how we know to follow our impulses, and when Don suggests it's instinct, Connie replies, "So you're just like a dog." It has been said. Connie then says the "patina" of the Waldorf has shined over all his domestic properties, but it hasn't worked with the international ones, and I feel like I'm the one that just was awoken in the middle of the night for all the sense he's making, but the point is, he says he knows he only gave him New York (...okay, true in the beginning, but what was with all the trips he was taking as of last episode?), but he'd like his help with this. Don says he'll think about some ideas, and Connie tells him it may sound like pride (I assume the disclaimer comes from a seven-deadly-sins place), but he wants Hiltons all over the world. "I want a Hilton on the moon, that's where we're headed." When Don doesn't include this later, at least we know it's not because he didn't write it down. Connie then offers some proto-neocon wisdom, saying that America is "wherever we're going to be," and when Don compliments his turn of phrase, Connie tells him he actually got it from him. Don: "Well, I guess it's not that memorable." This is why coffee is needed for society to run smoothly. That, and turning off your phone at night. Betty returns with the baby as Connie says he wants a proposal from Don "for the New York Hiltons as convention spaces" sent over to him by noon so he can take it on the plane, and Don agrees, probably so he can finally get off the damn phone. He hangs his head and then lies back, exhausted, before apologizing to Betty, who's fine with it, especially since the "four A.M. feedings" (seriously, Hilton?) apparently aren't over yet: "I want what I want when I want it." She's referring to the baby's thought process, but since several characters over the hour, including Don and Betty themselves, will repeat that sentiment almost verbatim, I think it's fair to deem it the Catchphrase Of The Episode. Betty as much as says that Connie's behavior loudly announces the COTE, and Don jokes that babies cry every three hours, while Connie only calls every four. Heh. Betty smiles, but also opines that Don likes Connie's attentions, extreme as they may be. By way of answering, Don gets up, saying he won't get back to sleep and might as well head into the office. He'd probably have a better chance of getting more rest if he hadn't already smoked half a cigarette since Connie called, but in an era when he was holding said cigarette about six inches from his infant's face, why even bring up such things?
It's still dark out as Don drives in, but he apparently hasn't gotten far, as he comes across Sally's teacher Suzanne out for a run, wearing a Bowdoin shirt and a somewhat friendlier attitude than the last time she and Don interacted. He talks her into accepting a ride the rest of the way, but the mood in the car turns pensive when they first hear Martin Luther King Jr. giving his "I Have A Dream" speech on the radio, followed by a news bulletin about two young women being "brutally murdered" in their Upper East Side apartment, and I'm just glad Peggy's mom likely isn't awake to hear that latter bit. Referring, I hope, to the MLK speech, Suzanne says she's going to read it to the kids on the first day of school, and when Don asks if she thinks they'll understand it, she replies, "I think they already know it. It'll be nice for them to hear an adult say it." Don, sounding genuinely beguiled, asks who she is, if she's dumb or pure or what, and wonders how it is that he could run into her in the middle of the night like this. She in turn asks what he's doing out there at this time, but rather than explain his recent foray into the world of indentured servitude, he merely says he couldn't sleep. They arrive at her destination, and after she lets him know she rents an apartment over the garage, he asks her to have coffee with him. If there wasn't anything open in the area right after the town hall meeting, I doubt they can find coffee at this small hour, but I think he's angling to be asked in, which is surprising given that he's on deadline. I mean, I know he takes his adultery seriously, but I didn't think he'd keep Connie waiting even for that. He's got his most winning smile plastered on here as he says it's just coffee, but Suzanne's run had made her nice and awake: "Maybe that's why you can't sleep. Too much coffee." Heh. She gets out without another word and runs to her door, and Don watches for a moment, enchanted, before getting going again.
Sometime later, it's raining outside as Allison comes into Don's office and is amusingly startled when he bids her good morning from the couch. He tells her he'll need some coffee and for her to type up the ideas he recorded into the Dictaphone and get them to Connie before he leaves for Europe. Allison tells him that Connie's actually going to California now, and offers to get him on the line, but Don issues her marching orders: "[Dictaphone], coffee, Hilton." Heh. And while that sequence may mean he's going to be waiting a while for the coffee, that couch does look pretty comfortable, so I think I'm on board with the plan. Don lies back down as thunder rumbles outside...
...which is also being heard in Ossining, and as Carla arrives, the kids finish their breakfast and Betty, reading the paper, tells them to go play upstairs. After we see a close-up of the Times article she's perusing that talks about the unlikeliness of Rockefeller winning the Republican Party's nomination over Goldwater, Betty tells Carla she didn't sleep the night before, so Carla suggests she take a nap. Carla deserves a raise, and I say that without even factoring in the events of the rest of the episode.
In the Study of Adultery Groundwork, Betty writes a note to Henry that asks, "Does anyone else read this?" In case you ever wondered why Betty never pursued a career in international espionage, you have your answer. By the way, January Jones is left-handed. Send me a thank-you note when you win the Mad Men pub quiz at your local watering hole.
Peggy, Kurt, and Smitty are in Don's office, and I'm glad to see that Peggy's alive, given the news report on the radio. Hopefully enough time has passed since we last saw her that she's walking normally again, too. Anyway, the idea being pitched is a drawing of a window showing a view of the Acropolis in Greece, with the tagline, "Your window on the world." Don crabbily tells them the window looks as old as the columns, and they also can't pretend that's the view from the Athens Hilton, because it isn't. I hope that means Don did his research and not that he also got a recent trip to Greece, because if it's the latter he should be a lot happier, late-night phone calls notwithstanding. In quick succession, Don calls the tagline flat and then, when Peggy reminds him that it's his, tells her not to use his ideas if they stink, like she or anyone else is really in a position to do that. He then makes fun of my dear Kurt's ESL status, and I'd tell him how good a way that is to get on my bad side if he weren't going to do so much worse later on. Besides, Kurt has proven to be totally unflappable, unlike Sal, who's fabulous in so many ways but when you get down to it is just a very fruity porcelain kitty. Sounding more impotent than threatening, Don tells the group he can't do this by himself, and all I can say is in that case, way to motivate them, guy. Peggy, however, just gives Don a small smile as she leaves, which means that either (a) her instinctive understanding of Don, sadly on vacation for some time, has returned, or (b) she's just happy because she's getting to work on the campaign like she wanted, and besides, this is kind of the best he's treated her this season. If it's the latter, I hope she's taking away this key lesson: Have other people around with whom to share the blame.
We're on a commercial set, and Lee Garner Jr., the younger Lucky Strike guy from the pilot, has returned, and hilariously, given Pete's pitch to him in that episode, is making Pete smoke a Lucky over his protests that it's bad for him. Pete takes a drag and promptly starts hacking up a lung, to everyone's amusement, and then Sal, who's directing the commercial, comes over and tells them they've got it. Lee Jr., however, isn't sure he likes the way the actor ends up staring off-camera instead of straight into it, and despite the fact that Sal explains they want the viewer to focus on the product instead of the actor and Pete adds that Lee Sr. signed off on the concept, Lee Jr. still isn't convinced, and asks Harry what he thinks. Harry opines that he's the client and they should do what he wants, proving that he learned nothing from the Ann-Margret debacle, but I'm too amused at Pete continuing to hack away like he suddenly materialized on the surface of Venus to notice. Lee Jr. at least turns on the Southern charm for Sal, so they try it again his way. As you're no doubt aware, that will only go so far.
The day, Don's again driving to work before sunrise, evidently, from the way he keeps checking out the side of the road, hoping to encounter Suzanne again. Up until now, there were many unflattering labels I would apply to Don with respect to his behavior toward women, but stalker was not one of them.
That afternoon, Carla's in the kitchen when Betty returns with the kids, who just finished their first day of school, and checks the mail and finds a letter from Francis. After Carla goes to check on the now-crying baby, she opens the envelope and sees an address and this response: "Betty, you asked me if anyone reads my mail. Not anymore." These two really are not stealthy enough to have an affair, not that that's not going to be even more evident soon. With a smile, Betty puts the letter into her purse, and then turns to Sally and notes how quiet she's being, wondering if she's tired. Sally says she isn't, but she really wants a pencil case to put in her loose-leaf. Either she asked for it already, was denied, and now is pouting, or she's being good to influence Betty's decision, but Betty's response of "We'll see" gives nothing away.
In the editing room at SC, an editor is playing the footage back as Sal and Lee Jr. each watch over a shoulder. After some talk about how the voiceover is temporary, Lee Jr. says he knows he's supposed to wait for the finished product, but he's fascinated by the process. Sal asks if he'd ever get into movies, but as he pours a drink, Lee Jr. responds, "Not while my father's alive." Interesting that he doesn't apply that restriction to certain other upcoming forays. The editor leaves the room to get to work on the final sound, and as Sal busies himself with the projector, Lee Jr. drains his drink and asks Sal if he'd please forget what he just said about movies and his father, as he had "a long, wet lunch." Sal absently asks if he had too much to drink, and Lee Jr. says that, and other things: "Secretaries nowadays, they don't give you a choice, know what I mean?" It's kind of doubly tragic that Sal lives in such deep denial of his homosexuality, because if he were clued in, he would notice how clearly Lee Jr. is subtextually feeling him out here. Like here, that last line clearly implied that Lee Jr. wouldn't choose women if given the freedom not to, and if Sal were on the qui vive, ironically enough, he'd have a chance to ward Lee Jr. off by making a big hetero show by talking about how he loves banging secretaries. I mean, he probably wouldn't fool him, but it would send an unmistakable signal that might allow him to escape the situation alive. Instead, though, he obliviously tells Lee Jr. that he doesn't have a secretary, and when Lee Jr. pointedly then asks how his take turned out, Sal gets him to lean over his shoulder, so that whole thing's a done deal, and it's only a matter of seconds before Lee Jr. puts a hand on Sal's chest and another on his shoulder. Sal jumps up like he just got a cattle prod in the back, but I doubt that's what happened with Lee Jr. having had so much to drink. Lee Jr. says the editor won't be back for a while, and offers to lock the door, but Sal, instead of trying an approach that wouldn't lead to wounded pride (perhaps pointing out that maybe Lee Jr. isn't appreciating the risks of the situation, or better yet, using his Catholicism as an excuse), he tells Lee Jr., with an air of offended dignity, that he's married. There are a number of reasons why this is the exact wrong thing for him to say, but they all tie in to this: He is a flaming homosexual. Any other gay man could see him coming a mile away, so for him to pretend to Lee Jr. that he doesn't go that way is to call him stupid, which is not what you want to do to someone who could hold your fate in his hands. And anyone could see his wedding band, so if his "I'm married" is meant to convey that he's staying faithful to his wife regardless of his sexual orientation, that's no good either, because then he's saying he's mora
lly better than Lee Jr., who's also married. I hope it goes without saying that I'm of course not condoning Lee Jr.'s actions at all, but basically, Sal needed not to assert himself over Lee Jr. in any way here in order to deny Lee Jr. what he wanted and still escape unscathed. And really, Sal has my sympathy, but he's not completely blameless, because if he were more comfortable in his own skin he probably wouldn't be standing there giving off the impression that the very thought of Lee Jr. touching him is so unmentionable, which is clearly not helping the situation. I'm also surprised he didn't think to run down the hall and offer Kurt as a sub. Anyway, Lee Jr. says he gets it -- Sal's at work, and it's too bad, but at Minute 15 you had to know it wasn't going to end here. Once Lee Jr. leaves, Sal throws a couple of film canisters into the wall in frustration. Little late to be playing it butch, hon.
Sally and Bobby are watching TV as Betty sits on the couch (but not the monstrosity; different room) with a glass of wine and writes a boring letter to Francis. And I'll add that she actually apologizes for it being boring, as she's out of touch with writing letters, so I don't think it's harsh for me simply to agree. We hear the whole letter in voiceover, by the way, and she goes on to marvel at the fact that they've only actually met three times, and she wishes she had a clearer picture of him in her mind. Might I suggest recapping those episodes? It'll burn images into your brain, I can tell you. As she finishes, saying she hopes to hear from him soon, we see her asleep in a chair, glass of wine still in her hand. Don enters and regards her, and maybe we're supposed to think he's intuiting what she's been up to, but really I'm guessing he's merely impressed with the fact that she didn't spill a drop even while passed out.
At night, Harry and Paul are eating sandwiches in the latter's office as he keeps one eye on the TV to make sure all the ads are properly run. Given his recent promotion, I would have thought he'd be able to get a flunky to do this, but I'm not getting the sense he's dying to go home to his family. You'd think, though, Jennifer would keep him on a tighter leash even if she's forgiven him for the little incident with Hildy. The phone rings, and it's Lee Jr., who sounds like he continued to drink after the last little scene we saw. Oh, dear. I actually thought on first viewing that he was going to turn it around and say Sal made a pass at him, but what happens is barely any better: He tells Harry he has a bit of a problem, that being that Sal is "no good," and he can't work with him. Harry says he doesn't have the authority to remove him, as Pete and Roger are in charge of the account, but Lee Jr. firmly tells him he wants him not only to take care of it but also to keep it just between them. Harry, flailing about for a direction to take, opts to tell Lee Jr. that the commercial is turning out great, and Lee Jr., who I now see is deep into a fifth of Johnnie Walker Red, looks like he's having trouble keeping his eyes open here, but manages to wish Harry a good night. Paul asks what happened, and Harry comes in with a big understatement in replying that he doesn't want to know. Since Paul doesn't really do any work, though, he's got more capacity for gossip than you'd think, and he drags it out of Harry without too much effort, with Harry admitting that he didn't ask for Lee Jr.'s reason in wanting to get rid of Sal because "he was drunk as a skunk and he's scary to begin with." Paul suggests calling Pete, but Harry tells him the part where he wanted it kept between them. He concludes that he shouldn't "panic and do something stupid like I usually do," and concludes that maybe the whole thing will blow over, as Lee Jr. was really drunk, so maybe the whole thing isn't to be taken seriously. As much as I think Harry's kind of spineless sometimes, he's in an impossible situation here, so I can't really blame him for sitting tight and hoping the whole thing blows over, since that's the only decent outcome that could result from this mess. Unfortunately, he's failing to account for two things: One, that the offending incident happened many drinks ago and is much less likely to be forgotten than Harry thinks, and two, the man is from the South. It's the land where people's tolerance for alcohol is only exceeded by their inability to let things go.
Don's wide awake in bed, so it's not such an inconvenience when Connie calls, although Don acts a bit like it is, prompting this response: "I know it's a privilege to call you at home. I don't think I've worn it out!" Too bad Betty's asleep, because she'd be a good person to go to for a dissenting opinion. Despite the fact that it's eleven-thirty, Connie asks Don to join him for a drink, and Don accepts, his only reluctance coming from the fact that even crazy Suzanne probably isn't out running at this hour.
Cut straight to the Waldorf, and Don hasn't let the lateness of the hour prevent him from showing up in full suit and tie. Connie is choosing to emphasize their shared status of being plain folk who made good by pouring out something from a bottle old enough that it prompts Don to ask if it contains moonshine. Connie says no, but it is from the Prohibition era. "I have two cases, and they both say 'hair tonic' on the side." If I were Don I'd be worried that the boxes weren't mislabeled. I'm not under the impression the expression "beggars can't be choosers" didn't apply to that time period. My point is made when Don, our inveterate drinker, almost gags on the booze, but he recovers to say he remembers it, and since he's a little young to have been drinking during Prohibition I'm thinking it's poor people stuff again. Connie tells him he's in a bit of a crisis, which explains why he's drinking something at which many denizens of the Bowery would turn their noses up, and when Don asks what about, he explains that he thinks about his business a lot and he's his own worst critic, and sometimes the negative thoughts collect and make him feel bad. "And then I realize that maybe that's the reason I'm so lonesome." I'm guessing by the end of the episode Don will be able to suggest another reason or two. He tells Don that he, Connie, is not working enough, prompting the man who came in for a business talk in the middle of the night to raise an eyebrow, but Connie goes on that it's his mission in life to bring America to the world, "whether they like it or not." He adds that they're a force of good because they have God, and my skin's already crawling with all the talk of expansionism masked as munificence, so sure, go ahead and throw some religious zealotry into the mix. He decries Communists and lauds the Marshall Plan, which to be fair was not anything like what's been going on this past decade, and Don starts taking notes as Connie continues that after everything they threw at Khrushchev, the thing that brought him down was being denied entrance to Disneyland. Don chuckles heartily, which prompts a bemused Connie to ask if he never heard that before. Don: "Well, I did, but when I hear you say it, it sounds beautiful." Oh, Don. You may have verbal skills galore, but ass-kissing sounds as weird coming out of your mouth as one-liners do coming out of your wife's. Redeeming his earlier talk a bit, Connie says he doesn't want politics in his ad campaign, but there should be goodness, and confidence. He thanks Don for listening, and mournfully compares himself to King Midas. Don tells him to stop that kind of talk, and Hilton tells him he's his angel, and like a son to him. "In fact, sometimes you're more than a son to me, because you didn't have what they had, and you understand." Don, a father-hater up to this point, looks profoundly touched that Conni
e thinks of him that way, and since we know he has no problem changing his name I don't know why he doesn't make things official and start calling himself "Don Hilton." They knock back another couple fingers of that stuff, and I only hope Connie sees fit to let his new son sleep in, because he's going to need the rest.
Betty's walking some laundry down the stairs when the doorbell rings, and when she looks outside, her hand actually flutters to her heart, which makes me fear she's going to be back on the monstrosity before very long. Indeed, it's Francis at the door, and after a moment, she nervously and hurriedly lets him in. She tells him her girl will be back soon, but just as agitatedly, he takes her hands and babbles that he knows it's crazy but he had to see her. Unfortunately, Betty was not kidding around with her last statement, for we hear the back door close, and the two of them drop their hands like they suddenly turned into range burners. Betty urgently asks what she should say, but Carla is on them in a flash, and Francis starts to turn to go, which is the false move that blows the whole operation, I think, because even as Betty introduces him, there's a knowing look in Carla's eye. Francis then comes up with a cock-and-bull story on the fly about how this is an excellent venue for a fundraiser, so I guess in times of crisis, you come up with the idea that will make you the most money. Betty does not do the most convincing acting job in going along with this lie, but does say she'll have to check with Don, and then asks Carla to show Francis out, as she left the bath running. Carla shows him out, but then looks up the stairs with many expressions on her face, none of them being "clueless" or "approving, " before picking up the hastily-discarded laundry basket and heading back for the kitchen. As I said in the recaplet, her mother did not raise a fool.
In the conference room, Sal is nervously fiddling with the projector before giving up and asking the girl on hand, "Lucy," to take care of it. When she obliges, she leans over in such a manner that her breasts are thrust right in his face, but it's luckily past the point where any overcompensating action by him on that front would do him any good. Harry is equally nervous, which is an interesting dynamic, because he and Sal each know something the other doesn't and are both hoping for the best, but if they each knew what the other does in addition to what they do, they'd both know that they're both fucked. Meanwhile, Roger is typically clueless about the whole thing. Well, that is until Pete leads Lee Jr. into the room, and Lee Jr. takes one look at Sal, then at Harry, and exits the room without a word. Honestly, this surprises me, because his reaction is a little bit more emotional than seems consistent with a business disagreement. I mean sure, Southern tempers and pistols at dawn and all, but you'd think Lee Jr. would still pull Roger aside for a chat rather than literally spinning on his heel and exiting in a snit. Roger asks what's going on, and Sal, mistakenly (and stupidly, if he gave some real thought to the logic behind Lee Jr.'s reaction) thinks he's safe and says he doesn't know, but Harry pipes up about the phone call, saying Lee Jr. told him to "get rid of Sal," which is an unfortunate choice of words, given that it seemed to me from the phone call that Lee Jr. only wanted him off the commercial. Roger asks why he called Harry, which is still a good question. Maybe it's because Harry backed Lee Jr. in the little creative difference they had and seemed like he'd fill in the reason why Lee Jr. would want Sal gone, or maybe he thought the whole thing would actually be handled more quietly this way, but the whole idea seems poorly thought out to me. Maybe no one's ever said no to him before and it's affecting his judgment, but I think the fact that no one questions this in more than an offhand manner is a minor failing of the episode. Of course, it may be revisited in the future. Harry tells Roger about how Lee Jr. was drunk and didn't want him to tell Roger, but Roger doesn't want to hear it, saying when there's a problem with a client, you go to Accounts to handle it. Pete comes back in and asks what the hell's going on, saying Lee Jr. left without a word, and Roger cans Sal on the spot. Sal can't believe it, but Roger lays it out: "Lee Garner Junior wants you fired!" And my mind goes back to Pete's offhand comment a few episodes ago about how even Hilton didn't compare to Lucky Strike as an account. Love this show. Roger adds that he'll also have to find out if Harry's going to accompany Sal to the unemployment line, and then adds that Harry needs to use his "dying breath" to tell Don to fix the situation. "Lee Garner has a problem with Creative, let Don solve it. He does it all now anyway." This episode is doing a phenomenal job of showing how differently people act when there's huge money on the line, but I still think as much trouble as he's in, Harry should, or should have, relayed exactly what Lee Jr. said, which is that he couldn't work with Sal, not necessarily that he wanted him fired from the firm. I mean, maybe he did want that, but by my lights he didn't make that explicitly clear. Still, no one's really thinking clearly, which is the point, really.
Outside, Sal tries to get more information out of Harry, and then ends up following him into Don's office. Don is no less nonplussed than Roger over why Lee Jr. went to Harry, and no less angry about the end result: "That's a twenty-five million dollar account you stuck your nose in, Crane." Wow. Now I kind of want to fire Harry. Funny how money works. Don dismisses Harry, but Sal stays behind, and when Don asks for more information, and Sal babbles about what just happened and suggests if he stays away from Lucky Strike and Roger, everything will be fine, Don says he understands what happened that day, but what was Lee Jr.'s problem in the first place that resulted in this situation? Sal takes ages to get to it, which is not helping his case with Don, but he finally tells him that Lee Jr. was drunk and "cornered" him, and he "backed him off" and told him he was married, and "he was embarrassed" and left. Don takes a moment, and then opines, "You must have been really shocked." This is Sal's last chance, here, but not picking up on the dangerous tone in Don's voice, Sal too-eagerly agrees that he was. Don continues, the menace in his voice rising: "But nothing happened. Because nothing could have happened, because you're married." As often happens on this show, I think there are several things going on here, and they're really an echo of what was going on between Lee Jr. and Sal, because Sal is fucking up in the exact same way. One, Don doesn't appreciate Sal hiding behind his marriage on general principles, given that he and so many people of his generation are regular philanderers. Two, given what Don knows about Sal, both that he likes men and that he in fact has cheated on his wife, he doesn't appreciate Sal's disingenuous denials, taking them as one step away from being called an idiot. And three, tying the two points together, it's a twenty-five million-dollar account, and since we know Sal likes dick, Don thinks he should have, if you will, taken one for the team. Once again, Sal's self-loathing has bitten him in the ass, as he catches on way too late, asking if he should have just done what Lee Jr. wanted. "What if it was some girl?" Don icily says that that would depend on what kind of girl it was and what he knew about her, and wow, that is tough to watch, there. He adds, "You people," shaking his head, and my visceral reaction was that he was talking about gays, but I decided upon reflection that that makes no sense; I think, in light of his Peggy-bashing an
d his attitude in the earlier meeting, that he's talking about the Creative people -- in his view, this incident is confirming in his mind that he can't rely on them for anything. Sal, already halfway to Humpty Dumpty territory, quivers that he didn't do anything wrong, but Don, more evenly, says that Lucky Strike could shut off SC's lights, and when he stands, adds that he thinks Sal knows this is the way it has to be. He shakes Sal's hand and, seeming to mean it, says he'll do fine, and Sal, tears in his eyes, manages to nod before making his way out. Absolutely brutal exchange to watch, like getting punched in the gut, and incredibly acted as always. Once Sal's gone, Don tells Allison via intercom to get him Lee Garner Jr., and it would be poetic justice indeed if the client insisted that Don make up for Sal's failure to please him, no?
Chez Draper. Carla is serving dinner as Betty keeps a watchful eye on her, wondering what she suspects and how she feels about it. After Bobby addresses Carla with some probably unintentional disrespect, Betty scolds him before telling Carla she can call it a day. Carla uncertainly agrees, and she's on shaky ground too, I'm sure, because she's got to be vaguely afraid that Betty will fire her to cover her own ass, I'm sure. Don arrives home and goes straight to the liquor, and when Betty asks how his day was, he confesses it was not good. Betty's eyes go to Carla, who has her back to her but still almost flinches, and then Betty puts on a show of saying she "didn't want to bother" Don with it, but Francine sent Francis over to the house, and Carla met him. Carla proves to be another person on the show with absolutely no poker face as she looks like she's wishing the ground would open up and take her away from these whiteys and their rich-people problems. Betty brightly continues on about the fundraiser, and Don couldn't give a shit if she wants to host it as long as he doesn't have to go. Carla moves to get her coat, continuing to do a fair impression of someone walking on eggshells, and Betty's eyes follow her appraisingly for a moment before finishing up telling Don about the shindig. Don goes upstairs to lie down, and then Carla leaves, uncertainly wishing a good night to Betty, who doesn't return the sentiment. If Carla's not a drinker, I bet she's going to start awfully soon, because how else do you survive in an atmosphere like this?
Sal's still in the office, possibly to get his portfolio together, but after an underling wishes him good night, he breaks down and covers his eyes. Not on the sketches, Sal! I laugh so as not to cry myself. I just want to see this character happy, and it is so never going to happen. At least he's in good company on this show, though.
Speaking of people who are working late, here's Francis, who gets a call from Betty informing him they're on for the fundraiser. After catching on that Betty is not talking freely, Francis asks if she really wants to go through with it, but Betty, within earshot of Don, who's on the couch in the other room, drops her voice and says she had to. Because she...needed to make a vain attempt to convince her maid that she's not having an affair? I mean, that is the reason, but it sounds silly when you say it out loud.
Don is giving his pitch to Connie and two of his underlings. The basic idea is that in luring Americans abroad, they have to remember that they enjoy day-to-day luxuries on a scale greater than just about anywhere in the world. He continues, "Now there's one word that promises the thrill of international travel with the comfort of home. Hilton." The artwork presses the concept, the first one asking, "How do you say 'ice water' in Italian?" and continuing the idea with fresh towels in Farsi and hamburger in Japanese, and winds up, "Hilton. It's the same in every language." It's a good pitch, but you'll notice that the Music Of Don Draper Casting His Hypnotic Spell is missing, so it's no surprise that Connie's not going to bow down in front of his genius. After nitpicking the hamburger idea, Connie sits back for a long moment during which Don looks like he's getting uncomfortable, and then proclaims it very good -- it's clever, yet friendly, and draws you in. "But what about the moon?" Don's confused at first, and then points out that that's not actually an achievable destination at the moment, but Connie says that's not the point -- he wanted Hilton on the moon, and couldn't have been more clear about it. That's patently untrue -- he said he wanted a Hilton on the moon, which is another thing entirely -- but I think he loves this game of giving with one hand and taking with the other, and is using this as an opportunity to make sure Don still knows who the boss is. Ultimately, Connie wants what he wants when he wants it, and he's saying, whether he believes it or not, that Don has let him down. I think it's a rather poignant parallel to the behavior Francis has exhibited with Betty all along, and what Pete did with Gudrun as well -- there are few better ways to make people feel powerless than to change the rules of the game in the middle, and that's really what the whole season is about. Anyway, Don tries to say he misunderstood and that the moon idea can probably be incorporated into the concept, but that's clearly not what Connie wants to hear, and he announces to the room that he'd like to speak with Don in private. To their credit, Smitty, Peggy, and Kurt look at Don for orders, but Don gives them leave to go, if not without irritation at what's to come. As she closes the door, Peggy gives another understanding look Don's way, and then Don tries to defend his work, but Connie cuts him off: "I'm going to speak very honestly with you. I don't think folks do that often." Don is not ready to be lectured, though, as he pointedly shoots back that most ad men believe that clients get in the way of good work. "I've never experienced that." Connie, however, stays on message, and reiterates that Don didn't give him what he wanted. "I'm deeply disappointed, Don." Wow, weaving a twisted father-son dynamic into a business relationship and alliteration too? I can see why he's going to take over the world. Don, sounding more impotent now, repeats that it's a great campaign, but while Connie concedes again that the work is good, he gets the last word: "When I say I want the moon, I expect the moon." I'd imagine Don's going to take everything out of his mouth literally from now on, so I'll be interested to see what will happen should Connie ever tell him to fuck a duck. Connie takes off, and I expect Don's agenda for the rest of the day will be to call Connie's kids and bitch about what Dad did now.
It's fundraiser time, and while there's a decent turnout, Francis isn't there yet -- but just as Francine asks where he is, the doorbell rings. While Carla gets it, Francine says she wants to know how Rockefeller will deal with the South should he be elected, and that other woman from the Junior League who was at the meeting last episode adds that the situation must be bad "for the Negroes to descend on Washington like that, just to be heard." Some other random woman opines that segregation is uncivilized, pure and simple, and then the doorbell-ringer is shown in -- but it's not Francis. Instead, it's a fiftyish woman from his office who says she'll be speaking on Francis's behalf. Betty doesn't even try to hide her disappointment, rather gauchely saying it won't help their fundraising efforts to "promise one thing and deliver another" (or change the rules of the game in the middle, ahem), but the woman takes that in stride and says Francis felt she might be "a better match" for the group, and adds that she's "extremely informed" -- in fact, she's the one that briefs Francis. Misreading Betty's lemon-sucking face, she moves in and conspiratorially assures her she won't embarrass her in front of her friends, which is hilarious given that Betty's behaving like a spoiled child, and Betty, who's in an even worse mood given the mention of Francis and his briefs, rather sullenly invites her to begin wh
enever she pleases. The woman, however, tells Betty she needs to start things up, so she gets everyone's attention, but doesn't remember the woman's name (it's Elsa Kittridge, FYI), so intent is she on sulking. I'm sulking too, because the monstrosity is still there, although it's at least been moved so it's not blocking the fireplace anymore. But if you think Betty's being childish, you haven't seen anything yet....
... as the day, she puts the collections into a small metal box...
...which she then drives over to Francis's office and, when they're safely alone, literally throws it at him. I mean, she didn't do a pitcher's windup or anything, but that was still a bit much. She's certainly punished Sally for less. Anyway, Betty is most displeased that she had to "watch the door all night like a sap," but Francis reveals that this was all part of his master plan -- providing Betty with an acceptable excuse to come to his office was his endgame. She's like, "Oh, right. Aw!" and they make out, but when he locks the door, she stops him, saying it wouldn't be right, doing it there on the desk or the couch. Not that she had a problem with committing adultery on a couch in last season's finale, but (a) the world was about to end, and (b) this was Captain Retro Awesome we were talking about. He suggests they get a room someplace, but when she shoots that down as "tawdry" as well, she's also talking about the whole affair. His face falls as he realizes she's the one changing the rules now, and when she apologizes, he rather glumly says he doesn't know what she wants. She wants dreams of a hideous couch and a man enacting a scene from a romance novel, not an actual person. Instead of saying that, though, Betty simply leaves, and I'm betting that's the last we'll see of Francis. And nothing against him particularly, but maybe we can devote some more attention to, say, Peggy and Joan now?
Allison buzzes Don and tells him Roger's there to see him, and Don pulls a face but tells her to admit him. There are no pleasantries -- Roger immediately tells Don that he hears Connie left in a huff the day before. "You won't even let me meet the man. What do you think Accounts does, besides limit your brilliance?" Well, I'm glad he offered one answer, because I was at a bit of a loss. It seems like, though, when Don said he didn't want contact with Roger he was referring to the Hilton account, which makes more sense at least from a practical standpoint. Don, in no mood, says he'd tell Roger, but he doesn't want to hurt his feelings. Heh. Roger, however, points out that two very important clients left there angry that week, and wonders if that's what Don wants the place to be known for. "That, and some guy losing his foot in a lawnmower?" I don't think you can do much about the second part now, Roger. People are going to remember that no matter how many successes you pull in, because it was awesome. He tells Don he's in over his head, and takes off. And point well made and all, I guess, but what I remember out of Roger the last time a client left angry was a lame joke and a declaration that he was out of ideas before turning to Don to solve the problem. In my opinion, Pete's a better Accounts man than Roger is, which, given the former is a reviled man-boy, is saying something.
At the Draper house, MLK Jr. is once again on the radio, but this time he's speaking at the funeral service for the four little girls killed in the church bombing in Birmingham. Betty comes in and, after Carla switches the radio off and Betty tells her she didn't have to do that, Betty asks what was on, and Carla, who's obviously deeply affected, tells her. Betty opines that it's "so horrifying," and offers Carla a day off, but Carla declines, although she does look grateful despite the recent tension between them. Betty sighs and says she hates to say it, but she's starting to wonder about civil rights. "Maybe it's not supposed to happen right now." I am too close to the end of this recap to get into an argument with a fictional character that existed almost fifty years ago, so I'll merely opine that making such a remark to your African-American maid is possibly a bit tin-eared. Don then arrives home, and this time Betty doesn't ask how his day was, instead saying she just put the kids to bed, and they're probably still awake. Don casts an appraising eye in the women's direction, but says nothing...
...and then we're with Sal, and oh, Lord -- he's in a phone booth in or by what looks like Central Park, calling Kitty and saying he's going to be working late. At first I wondered if he might be preparing to go see Lee Jr. and see if it's not too late to take him up on his offer, but the Central Park location and the presence of a few random guys milling about now makes me think he's checking out the Ramble, and if that's true I only hope he's careful with that suit. Also, Sal, this is not the way to look for a new job.
Don comes into the bedroom and looks like he's going to settle in beside Betty, but takes a long moment to think, and then wakes her and tells her Connie just called, and he's going in. She sleepily says she didn't hear the phone, but instead of bothering to point out she didn't wake up the last time he called, he merely smiles and then, as she falls back to sleep, leaves...
...and then he's knocking on Suzanne's door. She answers, drink in hand, and worries that someone's going to see him. His reply: "Then let me in." Fair enough, I guess. She obliges him, and after he compliments the place, big smile again on his face, she asks what he wants, and he tells her he felt like talking. Come on, Don, that's worse than the last excuse. At least you actually drink coffee. He tells her she's been flirting with him for months, but instead of denying it or getting embarrassed, she owns it, asking, "So what?" He goes on, however, that he can't stop thinking about her, and she continues to make it difficult for him but you'll notice she's not asking him to leave, either. By the way, he mentions it's been two weeks since he encountered her out running, which matches up with dates mentioned in various places throughout the episode. Looks like we're on pace to end the season in November, not that I can imagine why that's relevant. When he asks if she's been thinking about him when she's out running, she acknowledges it, but says she's also thought about how getting involved with him would play out: "I know exactly how it ends." She adds that he lives a mere two miles from there, and she sees his wife at the market and taught his daughter. "I don't think you've done this before this way." He can't deny that, but after being controlled by other people's wishes all episode long, he tells her, "I want you. I don't care." I want what I want when I want it. That's the end of her resistance, and they first make out, and then as Billie Holliday's "Prelude To A Kiss" kicks up, we cross-fade to them asleep and spooning, his arms around her, and then the credits roll.