Mystery Date

S05E04

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Don -- who's severely under the weather -- and Megan run into Andrea, a freelance writer from the old firm, and it takes approximately .17 seconds for Megan to ascertain a onetime sexual relationship there. Megan is not happy to be the Diane Chambers to Don's Sam Malone, and tells him so in no uncertain terms. Later, with Don home sick, Andrea turns up at his apartment, and the panic with which he kicks her out shows he either really loves or is really scared of Megan, possibly both. However, when Andrea later sneaks back in and begs Don to have his way with her, he relents. I thought this might be a dream sequence, and when he ends up later strangling her, it becomes clear that it is a fever-induced hallucination, but that doesn't actually make it any less disturbing, especially given that...

...Joyce turns up with crime-scene photos from Chicago's student-nurse sex massacre, and everyone's apparent stomach for them causes "Ginso" to label them "sickos." One non-sicko who's still all over this news story is Sally; Betty and Henry are on the road for his work, so Sally is stuck at home with Pauline. Sally gets into reading about the murders and seems very frightened, although after Pauline I'm surprised she has the capacity to fear anything else. As if to back me up, Pauline ends up telling Sally about the crimes in a chillingly casual way before giving Sally half a sleeping pill so she won't be up all night. Betty, you've met your parenting match.

Greg is coming home, and Gail tries to prepare Joan for the fact that he may be different. When Greg arrives, he's thrilled to meet "his" son, and then Gail keeps considerately clearing out of the house so her daughter can get some, as mothers are wont to do. Any libido Joan may have, however, is killed by Greg's news -- he has to go back in ten days for another year, which was not part of the plan. Joan adapts to the change in plan admirably until she hears from Greg's mother over dinner that Greg actually volunteered to return, and as if that didn't make the dinner painfully uncomfortable enough, the news is followed by a member of the staff playing accordion music, which as we all remember brings back wonderful memories for this couple. In semi-private, Joan lays into Greg, who doesn't want to hear it. Gail, once again, has been through all of this and tries to get Joan to be strong. And she succeeds, but in a better way than she ever intended: Joan tells Greg to return to Vietnam and never come back to her, making it clear that she still remembers the rape in the process. If you wondered whether it was unseemly to cheer the end of this marriage, I can only tell you that you weren't alone.

Hey, guess what? Roger screws up! I know, you're shocked, but he forgets to get Ginso on a campaign for Mohawk to take advantage of some favorable developments with the mechanics' strike, so he does the only thing he knows how to do, which is to apply some cash to the problem. In this case, he pays Peggy to work up a campaign, although she takes his insult offer of ten bucks and ends up gouging him for the four hundred he has in his pocket, which is amazing and may teach him, as I've been suggesting, NOT TO CARRY SO MUCH CASH. Working late, Peggy discovers Dawn still around, and when she learns she's afraid to travel back to Harlem with everyone in such a rioting mood, she insists that Dawn stay over with her. As they bond, Peggy drunkenly confesses that she's not sure she really has what it takes really to succeed as a copywriter. A moment of hesitation in leaving her purse alone with Dawn, however, completely ruins the ebony and ivory-ness of the evening, and in the morning Peggy only finds a nice note instead of a new friend and looks as regretful as she does hung over.

Oh, in the end, Gail and Joan lie on the bed together, Kevin between them. It's not the family Joan imagined, but it's the one that's not leaving.

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Before I start, I want to say that I think you could teach a course on this episode, and if I had the time I could probably write about it until my fingers fell off. But I’d like to keep them available for other things, so hopefully the following will suffice.

As we open, Don is hacking away, and at first I thought it was that smoker’s cough of his that stops by every once in a while to remind us that even Don Draper, matinee idol even for those people who never go to the movies, is going to die someday. However, as he and Megan get on the SCDP elevator, Megan tells him he sounds terrible, adding, “You even look terrible.” All props to the makeup department, because he does look sweaty and ashen, but still: Overruled. Megan playfully tells him she’s going to stand at the other side of the car, and Don tells her fine, “If you think you’ll be safe over there by yourself.” I see he’s not above using the news story we’ll be hearing so much about as joke fodder. Seems a bit callous, but he does feel like death at the moment.

The elevator stops, and an attractive woman whose headlights happen to be on (nice to know the building’s air-conditioning is in working order) boards and practically meows upon seeing Don, sidling up to him in a manner far more suited to the end of the day than the beginning and calling him “my bad penny.” Oh, and said attractive woman also happens to be Mädchen Amick, who has popped up on many shows here and there over the years but will always be Shelley Johnson from Twin Peaks to me. She’s still so pretty, too. Don tells “Andrea” that he’d like her to meet his WIFE Megan, and as subtle as that was I’m surprised he refrained from sticking his wedding ring in her face to punctuate the declaration.

Don then explains to Megan that Andrea is a freelance writer from “the old firm,” which I guess means SC, although I admit I don’t get the reluctance to say it. Megan unsmilingly tells Andrea that it’s nice to meet her, the stiffness of her words possibly being the reason her posture goes even straighter than usual, and then it’s Andrea’s floor, and she can’t wait to disembark, telling Megan it was nice to meet her without a word to Don, who, poor thing, seems to be coughing even harder with the embarrassment factor thrown in. When the door has fully closed, Megan whirls and asks how many times this is going to happen. He tries to tell her that it was six years ago, and being that it’s Madison Avenue, they’re going to “run into people,” and Megan doesn’t reply that him running into people is the root of the problem here, instead saying that there are places in town they could go where they’d run into people she worked with. Well, given how these two got together, that would be… also Madison Avenue. Really, it is hard to feel too bad for her, but I suppose she’s entitled to sulk for a while, and she most definitely seems to agree.

Michael Ginsberg and his ugly short-sleeved shirt are now part of the team, and they’re typing away as Peggy wonders what’s so great about transparency in pantyhose. Cut to Stan wearing a pair in a non-traditional way, with one leg pulled over his face, which doesn’t stop him from smoking and making off-color remarks. Also, if I remember my shitty cop shows, a lot of rapists use pantyhose in the same manner as Stan is currently to hide their identity from their victims while still being able to see, so given the photos Joyce is about to show them it is just wildly unfortunate. Oh, Stan. And here’s Joyce, coming in and greeting “Pegasus” as the hapless Meredith trails along in her wake, complaining she has to wait to be announced. Joyce essentially ignores her, which I guess means she isn’t her type, and greets “Stanley” and “Ginzo” before sharing some Time photos with them – crime-scene shots from Chicago of the student-nurse murders. Stan and Peggy jump up to take a look, but Ginzo stays at his typewriter…

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Oh, in the end, Gail and Joan lie on the bed together, Kevin between them. It's not the family Joan imagined, but it's the one that's not leaving.

Want more? The full recap starts right below!

…while Don is still trying to tell Megan she’s upset over nothing, and while she’s still not thrilled, she does offer that she’ll get over it…

…and now Peggy has the magnifying eyepiece and is rather-too-gleefully noting that the victims look like rag dolls. Meredith, at least with some horror in her voice, asks if they were raped, and Joyce says she doesn’t know, but does offer, in a storytelling voice, that a couple of them were naked, and the ordeal went on for hours. I suppose this is as good a time as any to discuss what I think is the episode theme; although on the surface, it seems like it’s all about violence toward women, I think the deeper idea is that no matter how well you may know someone, indeed, no matter how well someone may think he knows himself, when pushed hard enough, we’re all capable of going to dark, ugly places, places no one who knows us would think us capable of visiting. It seems obvious, but it’s especially powerful against the backdrop of the sixties, with Vietnam and the riots stirring severe societal discontent. It’s a dark twist on the Mystery Date game that will be seen later; girls then may have fantasized about the “right” date showing up at their door, but the worst thing that happened in the game was that the guy was dressed poorly or had a blue-collar job, not that he’d brutally murder you.

Anyway, Megan and Don appear, and since Joyce is the Number One Fan in the Megan Calvet Appreciation Club, she calls Megan over to look at the photos as Don tells her he’ll see her later. Mistaking his farewell as intended for the whole group (or not), Ginzo calls out in his crest-the-ridge voice that he’ll see Don later, and Don’s answering facial expression should be to the dictionary entry for “Not if I see you first.” As Megan checks them out, Joyce speculates that this story will make the cover, as they’ve covered the riots already and there have already been five that summer. “I say it’s better than even money Mr. Luce finds a tasteful way to do this.” No one asks how that might be possible, but this is enough to get Ginzo to bark at her to put the photos away, as the way they’re all excited by them is disgusting, but Joyce is unfazed, and says that one girl survived to tell the tale, with Stan adding that she hid under the bed, and Speck (the real-life murderer, not actually mentioned in the episode) lost count. Ginzo gets up and leaves, calling them “sickos” in his Sonny-from-Dog Day Afternoon voice, and when he’s gone, Peggy admits that he’s right. And I agree, but if Ginzo is that offended by inappropriate jokes about tragic crimes, it’s a good thing he lives in the pre-Twitter era.

A shot from inside Joan’s oven shows her kneeling down to retrieve some baked good she’s making, but when she gets it out, she complains to her mother that it’s not even set. Gail replies that she told Joan the gas jets were clogged, and offers to go to the bakery, but Joan also says they need to pick up some Schaefer for Greg, and wonders if they have time. Gail thinks the Number One priority is for her to clear Kevin out by noon so Joan and Greg can, um, run into each other, which he’s going to want to do right away even if he claims he wants to meet his son. Joan complains that Gail is making her very anxious, but Gail, drawing on her experience, tells her it’s okay — things are going to be unfamiliar for them both. “And who knows what he’s seen, who knows what he’s done.” Joan points out that he was a surgeon and wasn’t in combat, as if tending to people with war wounds is a psychological walk in the park, but Gail’s going in another direction, saying that things happen when men are away. And I never thought Greg was the most convincing heterosexual, but again, different path, as Joan opines that Gail can talk about men in general, but she knows this “is all about Daddy.” Gail won’t be deterred from imparting her wisdom, though, as she urgently tells Joan that even if he hasn’t been with other women, he won’t be used to listening to a woman, and while I don’t think that was ever his forte, given events to come it’s hard to think she doesn’t have a point. Joan sighs and says she knows it’s going to be difficult for Greg, which is why she wants to start with him seeing his son, and Gail gets that and agrees to go get the cake. If I can insert my opinion, I think you shouldn’t forget the beer either, Gail.

Don’s lying on his couch trying not to expire when Sally calls for him; he picks up to a flurry of complaints about how she hates Pauline, and someone called on Henry’s phone saying they couldn’t get a flight, so Henry and Betty will be driven back from Buffalo that night, which is weird because Henry is so important, and they never let her know what’s going on but they call Bobby at sleepaway camp all the time. “I guess if I was peeing in my pants they might want to say hi?” I think it’s more likely they just don’t want to have to find a fifth Bobby, so they’re keeping him happy.

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Oh, in the end, Gail and Joan lie on the bed together, Kevin between them. It's not the family Joan imagined, but it's the one that's not leaving.

Want more? The full recap starts right below!

Sally goes on to complain that Pauline wears a barf-worthy amount of perfume, and she also doesn’t believe that Sally’s allowed to watch as much TV as she wants during the summer. Even Don raises an eyebrow at that, and tells her to go out and get some fresh air and sun, but Sally tells him it’s really hot. And as much as I could listen to Sally bitch about her elders all day and all night, Don does have a point, especially when he adds, “I don’t want you to get rickets in that haunted mansion.” I’m trying to figure out if the nighttime exterior is more reminiscent of The Munsters or Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?, but either way, HA! Don then hacks into the phone, prompting Sally to ask how he is, and he replies that he has a cold, “but you’ve made me feel better.”

The doorbell rings in New Jersey, and Joan, wearing the cutest black dress with roses embroidered all over it, answers to find her uniformed husband. They kiss and giggle at each other for a moment, and then Gail’s voice calls, “Somebody wants to say hello.” All right, Ma, wait your turn…oh, she means Kevin, whom Greg goes to hold, leaving Joan to bring in his luggage. Oh, Joan. Gail says she thought his plane might be delayed because of the STRIKE, but Greg’s more interested in looking at Kevin’s face, possibly for any resemblance of himself, in which case we could be here a while. But no, when Greg asks Gail to get the “Brownie”, Gail says they’re out of film, and says she’ll take Kevin and go get some. She doesn’t add, “So you two can also get some,” but she might as well have. Keeping up the level of subtlety, Joan asks if Gail has supplies “in case you have to be gone for a while,” but we can be sure Gail has packed enough for a trip across the desert, and soon she’s gone and husband and wife are shutting the door to the bedroom…

…while we cut to two doors opening, those being to a cabinet in the SCDP break room containing snacks, but not the aspirin Don’s in search of. When Megan joins him, he explains that he didn’t ask Dawn to find it because he’s gone through a whole bottle since she’s been there, and he’s embarrassed. Boy, I’d love to break open the casing on his internal Shame-O-Meter. Megan, her secretarial skills undiminished by her elevated position, quickly tracks down a bottle and then strokes Don’s hair sympathetically as he has yet another coughing fit, and then she tells him she’s sending him home, as he’s clearly got a fever. Don sighs and apologizes for the morning incident, explaining that he got together with Andrea a long time ago, and he was unhappy. Megan replies, “Because you were married,” and on the one hand, she does seem to be convicting him for past crimes here, a little bit. However, it’s worth our while to remember that Don was over the moon about Betty once too; besides, she’s of a far more outspoken generation that Don is. Megan goes on that he can’t really blame his past “careless appetite” on Betty, and goes on that the fact that he clearly feels guilty about the morning makes the whole thing worse. I mean, she’s obviously in a delicate moral position here, especially since Don had a fairly serious thing going with Faye (MISS YOU, FAYE) when he took up with her, but she still has a point, and also these kind of doubts can happen when in the past you accepted someone’s word that he’s been in love with you “for a long time” WHEN IN REALITY YOU’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR ROUGHLY FOUR SECONDS. Don reverts to the gallows humor he does so well and succeeds in getting a smile out of his current wife, but when she tells him again to go home, he replies that he has to attend this one meeting so he can skip the two. That actually sounds like his normal batting average, so good for him for keeping it up while at death’s door.

In the Rye Town Francis Spookhouse, Sally is staring into space when Pauline admonishes her for not eating her sandwich, and then catches sight of a story in the paper, presumably about the student nurses. Sally tries to look on, but Pauline smacks her with the speed of a frat boy playing Red Hands, and Sally rubs her knuckles in disbelief. Pauline tells her that some things aren’t for children, and adds that Sally demanded tuna salad, so she’s going to sit there until she’s eaten it. Sally complains that it’s got relish in it, and then tells Pauline she really hurt her hand, and Pauline does say she shouldn’t have done that, but tells Sally she needs to be respectful, and that she’s sure Betty has rules too, although she does add that she may be “distracted” when it comes to enforcing them. I do think that living in the Rye Town Francis Spookhouse with Grandma Slaps-A-Lot here is giving Sally a new appreciation for her mother, and I can’t say I blame her. But Pauline tells Sally she’s sure Betty would be sick if she knew how Sally was behaving, and Sally is going to finish that sandwich if it takes all day. It’s hard to believe after their relationship of last season, but I think Betty would take Sally’s side here. Sally does take a small bite, and I’m sure the relish flavor is lost in all the bile, so there’s that.

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Oh, in the end, Gail and Joan lie on the bed together, Kevin between them. It's not the family Joan imagined, but it's the one that's not leaving.

Want more? The full recap starts right below!

Joan emerges from the bedroom trailing afterglow everywhere, and in response to Greg’s inquiry, announces that she slept “very well.” Gail is there too, apparently having judged it safe to return sometime in the middle of the night, and when Joan observes Greg making his lunch, Gail explains that he won’t listen. Joan tries to tell him they have steak and a cake, but Greg, already into a beer, is apparently craving bologna, and I’ll just let that one go entirely. Greg adds that he’ll have veal that night with his parents, and then talk turns to the riots, with Greg asserting that there are “plenty of Negroes in Saigon, and they’re plenty brave.” Joan makes a comment about how Greg looks in uniform, prompting Greg to ask Gail if there’s any way she could pick up more beer, and Gail’s already got Kevin warmed up and ready to go, and is out the door in five seconds flat. I don’t know how comfortable my mother being that attuned to the “it’s time for sex” vibe in the room would make me, but maybe it’s different for girls. It’s also different for Joan, as this time, Greg sits Joan down and says he has something to tell her. Joan, her voice dropping to her business tone, says if something happened over there, he shouldn’t tell her, and I wonder if on some level she’s hoping he did stray so she can call her indiscretion with Roger even, but Greg says it’s not that — he has to go back to Vietnam for another year. Joan is, to be sure, severely displeased, brushing aside Greg’s attempts to mollify her by saying news stories of how horrible it is there are completely untrue, and half-yells that “they’re a bunch of liars!” Greg, however, says that’s not the case and it’s “more complicated” than that, when actually, it’s simpler, just completely different. He says he’s “come to terms” with the fact that war doesn’t stop for their plans, but points out that they have ten days together. “I need to store up as much of you as possible.” Buddy, you don’t know the half of it.

In some gracious wood-paneled room, Ginzo is repeating, word for word, the part of the pitch we saw earlier, and the footwear execs seem to be eating it up. When he’s done, one of the execs tells Ginzo that Ken was right, he’s a genius, prompting a coughing fit from Don that seems juuuuuust a little too convenient. Hee. After some minor discussion, the lead exec tells them, “Sold,” everyone shakes hands, and I know I already made a Contagion joke but shouldn’t Don at least give the guys the option of bumping elbows instead? The exec then tells Ginzo that he really knows women, and Ginzo replies that he’s never been accused of that, but goes on that to be honest, they confuse him, and brings Cinderella up as an example. This sets silent alarm bells off between Don and Stan, but there’s nothing they can do, and Ginzo rather masterfully tells them all about the concept while simultaneously claiming that it’s too dark an idea, and I can see his point, since it’s all about depicting Cinderella as wounded prey that wants to be caught by a pursuing assailant, and seriously, I think the actual on-screen strangulation we eventually see might be more comfortable than all the allusions we’re getting here. Who’s the sicko now, Ginzo? Seriously, this is an example of what I was talking about; given how disgusted he was by people staring at the photos, would he really have thought he’d be capable of using a fictional parallel with extremely similar themes to sell a pitch? Anyway, the ad exec is like, I know I said sold but now I am sold-er…

…and before you know it, we’re in a bar, in which Don is chewing Ginzo out for continuing to talk after the client accepted the first idea. Ginzo counters that it’s the idea Don wanted, and even though Don says he opined it was a cliché (which is not true; that was Stan), Ginzo tells him he did think it was good — he was just worried the clients wouldn’t like it. I’m not sure if Don doesn’t realize how Puppet Master-y Ginzo was in getting this concept bought, or if he does realize it and doesn’t like it, or simply doesn’t like Ginzo telling him what he was thinking, but he informs Ginzo in no uncertain terms that he’s lucky not to be fired after his stunt, and any talking out of ideas should happen in front of him. However, when Don goes to make a call, Ginzo proclaims that he’s “such a decent guy,” and when Ken counters that Ginzo almost just got fired, Ginzo demurs: “I don’t think you’re right about that.” And I don’t either…

…especially since when he gets Megan on the phone, he tells her the pitch went well. He then offers to get her in an hour (not exactly rushing to get out of the bar, are we, Don?), but she tells him to bypass the stop and just go home, as she wants to get a couple hours of work done. She adds that he shouldn’t be smoking, so when he disconnects, he puts out his cigarette. I’ll be surprised if that’s his last one of the day, but he did at least pay the idea lip service.

Cut to the Draper boudoir, with its unappetizing, period-perfect combination of yellows and tans — what were people THINKING with those bedspreads — wherein Don staggers into bed. Well, onto it, at least — he barely manages even to get his shoes off before passing out.

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Oh, in the end, Gail and Joan lie on the bed together, Kevin between them. It's not the family Joan imagined, but it's the one that's not leaving.

Want more? The full recap starts right below!

Pete arrives at Roger’s door with the news that LBJ is reluctant to intervene in the mechanics’ strike for political reasons, and since (this will be mentioned later) Mohawk has a side deal with their people that forces them to work even as the strike is going on, the company is in a position to provide service on many dormant routes until it’s resolved. He goes on that Mohawk would like SCDP to walk them through the campaign around such new service first thing Monday, and Roger does a credible job in telling him that they’re ready to go. When Pete takes off for the weekend, however, Roger sits up in a panic…

…and outside, as Pete heads for the elevator, Roger peers around the corner to watch him go, and the only thing missing is that twangy violin head-popping-into-view sound effect from Looney Tunes. Which is too bad, because of all people on this show, such a thing would be most fitting for Roger’s maturity level. With Pete safely gone, Roger heads into the copywriters’ room, but is chagrined to discover that Ginzo isn’t there. I guess he went home for the weekend (or is still in the bar), but it’s a little surprising, given how green he is, that he wouldn’t have come back to the office, although it’s not like he’d be any more sober, as Stan and (especially) Peggy seem wasted. Stan pays Roger all the respect he’s earned before heading out, leaving Roger to ask Peggy what she’s doing that night. Peggy mock-seductively asks Roger what he has in mind, prompting him disapprovingly to ask if she’s drunk, and Roger Sterling has said and done some hypocritical things, but him acting stern about drinking in the office threatens to rupture the very fabric of space and time. Roger tells her he needs her to work up something for Mohawk, but Peggy replies that for that account, “your quote man is Ginsberg.” Heh. Already fresh out of ideas, Roger reaches into his Pocket O’Bribery, hands Peggy a bill, and tells her he needs her to work it up and on Monday explain to Ginzo and Pete that Roger asked her to — only sometime last week, which I take to be before Ginzo was hired. It’s not a story that should hold up to any kind of strict scrutiny, but Peggy takes the money; however, Roger then clarifies that there’s no brief because he never told Ginzo about it at all, but since American Airlines is taking everything big and giving their northeast corridor to Mohawk, they need this campaign to capitalize. Peggy, drunk enough to be slurrily amused with herself, comes up with a couple strike-themed slogans, prompting Roger to reply, “Hey, Trotsky, you’re in advertising.” Hee. Peggy asks what, then, the angle is, and Roger babbles some half-baked nonsense before heading for the door, but Peggy’s like, wait just a minute — ten bucks for an entire corporate-image campaign is not nearly going to cut it, and when Roger points out he could make her do it for nothing, she replies, “You’re right. The work is ten dollars; the lie is extra.” You guys, I don’t know a lot of things, but I’m pretty sure Joe R, consummate Peggy-lover, is enjoying this moment immensely. Roger asks what she makes a week, and Peggy is once more drunkenly pleased with herself as she notes that him not knowing is helpful, even looking around at a nonexistent crowd with an “Am I right?” look on her face. I love this scene so much. Beaten, Roger hands over all the money in his pocket, which is FOUR HUNDRED DOLLARS, like does he have a side gig as Monty Hall’s understudy? Roger heads out before Peggy can take his watch (seriously, she threatens that, it’s awesome), and then Megan enters and asks if she’s staying. Peggy says yes, as something “came up,” and asks Megan to tell “Patricia” she can go home. When she’s gone, Peggy gleefully counts the money, and rarely do I watch a scene more times than I need to in order to recap it, but this one’s an exception.

Don’s face down on the bed (and his dress shirt and tie have come off since the last scene, which given how out of it he was, is a suspicious little detail) when the doorbell rings. He manages to get to the door and is horrified to discover it’s Andrea, whom he pulls into the apartment and tells in no uncertain terms that she can’t be there. She tries to say they didn’t get to talk, but he informs her they’ve done all the talking they’re ever going to do. Good thing she’s not actually interested in that, then. He goes on that she can either go over the balcony or take the stairs, which gives me flashbacks to I’m Gonna Git You Sucka, and she’s unfazed by his words but still consents to leave. Rethinking the plan, however, he has her take the service elevator, and ushers her to the kitchen. She tries one last time, saying what they had was just sex and didn’t mean anything, implying of course that it wouldn’t mean anything now either, but Don’s like, if I don’t lie down within five seconds I will literally die, and if you’re with me when Megan gets home so will you. She leaves, which is just as well, because her chic little yellow dress and complimenting orange beaded necklace were clashing horribly with that God-awful wallpaper in the kitchen. Don heads back to bed, and you can tell how massively freaked out that little incident made him by the fact that it takes him five whole seconds to lose consciousness again.

As promised, Sally’s watching a TV spot for the board game Mystery Date, which is another dreadfully unfortunate-on-purpose reference to the massacre, not that Pauline notices, as she’s jabbering on the phone to someone about the poor girl under the bed. Sally, displaying less guile than I expect from her, stares at Pauline with interest, and when Pauline notices, she stops the discussion mid-sentence and tells the probably-bemused person on the other end of the line that she “can’t make any plans until they waltz through that door.” When she’s off, Pauline tells Sally that she needs to take out the trash, or she can go to bed and watch the sun set from her bedroom window. “It’s the saddest thing in the world.” I’m thinking the woman knows of what she speaks. Sally inquires if, once she takes out the garbage, Pauline will tell her about the murder, prompting Pauline to reply loftily, “I will not bargain with you.” Sally disbelievingly asks how old Pauline is — nice one — but Pauline doesn’t take the bait, merely saying “we girls” keep that a secret.

Probably recalling her sessions with Dr. Edna, Sally busts out some Junior Psych and asks if Pauline’s mother was strict, and Pauline is all too happy to tell her that her father was, and she’s a better person because of it. Sally tries to tell Pauline that she may not agree, but she’s a good person, but Pauline neither agrees nor disagrees, instead opining that someone needs to discipline Sally so she’ll start acting like an adult. She recalls a wonderful childhood memory in which she walked by the couch on which her father was sleeping, and out of nowhere, he kicked her so hard that she actually flew across the room and hit a piece of furniture; after that, he told her, “That’s for nothing, so look out.” Sally becomes the presumptive favorite for the 1966 Understatement of the Year when she offers, “That’s not very nice,” and Pauline muses that that’s true. “But it was valuable advice.” This is like the time early in the first season of Veronica Mars when you found out Logan’s father whipped him with a belt. It may not make me love Pauline, but it’s hard to hate her quite as much.

In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close.

Oh, in the end, Gail and Joan lie on the bed together, Kevin between them. It's not the family Joan imagined, but it's the one that's not leaving.

Want more? The full recap starts right below!

In an Italian restaurant (checkered tablecloths and all!) Joan, Greg (in uniform), and Gail (holding Kevin) are sitting with Greg’s parents, and soon the New York Italian-accented waiter joins them and asks, “How we startin’?” Badly, if the way Greg’s mother is sucking a lemon is any indication. Joan orders a gin fizz, and Greg tells him everyone else will have wine, but he needs a second to decide. Another serviceman appears, and when his eyes meet Greg’s, they salute and exchange a greeting, it being clear from the other’s deference that Greg is the ranking officer. By the time the other soldier leaves, the waiter is practically looking at his watch, but when he asks if Greg would like him to come back, as he has a lot of tables, Greg’s like, why don’t you recommend a wine, and I’ll recommend that you show some respect, given that YOUR LITTLE BROTHER IS STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF AFGHANISTAN! (Well, not quite, but that’s the idea.) Either cowed or simply trying to rescue his tip, the waiter apologizes, and Mama Greg looks impressed in spite of herself. However, once the wine is ordered, she announces that what they’re doing is a “painful charade,” and everyone else is trying to come home. Joan tries to intervene on Greg’s behalf, but this quickly leads to the revelation that Greg wasn’t conscripted for this second year — he volunteered. Joan, faced with so many unpleasant revelations at once, decides to forego even discussing the fact that he told his parents but hid the truth from her, but is still aghast that he’s going back of his own accord. Greg, however, tells her they need him, and Joan doesn’t even bother lowering herself to point out that she needs him too. Which is good, because another waiter decides to interrupt the silence by playing “Santa Lucia” on an accordion, and I’ve never heard the death knell of a relationship coming from that particular instrument, but given their history with it, there’s no other conclusion to be drawn. Joan looks at Greg with unerring rage even as he lights her cigarette, and then Gail barks over the music, “You know, Joanie plays the accordion!” Gail and Ginzo should get together and practice reading a room.

The office lights are now out, and Peggy’s typing away with only a desk lamp to guide her when she hears a strange thump. It’s not really that kind of show, but violence has happened on it, and I admit that given the theme of the episode, I got creeped out when I first watched Peggy emerge from her office and ask if anyone was there. She treads gingerly down the hallway, and given that she’s got her purse and coat in hand I think it would be the better part of valor to get the hell out of there, but she reaches the source of the noise — Don’s office — and quickly opens the door. I’m guessing she knows Don’s home sick, because otherwise I’d think she’d be asking to see something she couldn’t unsee, but in this case, she gets a jolt of a different kind — it’s Dawn, who was just curling up to go to sleep on the couch. After the initial shrieks of fright, Peggy tells Dawn she should head home, but Dawn is clearly reluctant to do so, and eventually explains why — even if a cab would stop for an African-American person, it wouldn’t take her past 96th Street, and she’s afraid to take the subway, because there have been riots in Bed-Stuy and she’s afraid one could happen in Harlem as well. Peggy clearly never thought of that, but is certainly sympathetic, offering that Abe (she calls him “my boyfriend”) is in Chicago covering the riots before asking Dawn stay with her overnight. Knowing that this situation is going to force her to walk all manner of fine lines, Dawn’s a little hesitant, and tries to beg off by saying she’s stayed at the office before, but Peggy’s insistent, and I’m pretty sure Dawn’s grateful. I’m sure you know the show well enough by now to guess that won’t last.

Don’s lying in bed when a woman’s hand brushes his forehead — he thinks it’s Megan, but it’s actually Andrea. And I didn’t mention this in the recap, but it’s still day outside when it was clearly night in the show’s reality. Presumably, it’s so Don wouldn’t think it’s weird that Megan’s not home yet, but it does give away that something funky is going on. Anyway, Andrea tells him he left the back door unlocked, and obviously, if it were real, this would be some Fatal Attraction-level shit with her sneaking into Don’s house unconcerned that Megan might be there, and then she tells him she just wants it fast. Good idea, with him only having about twenty minutes to live and all. She asks if he remembers that night at Lincoln Center “when you took me back to the loading dock. Your wife was waiting inside.” And as much as this may be a fever dream, I’m sure we’re meant to know that that memory is real. Oh, Don. No wonder Bobbie Barrett heard stories about you. Anyway, memories of the loading dock are apparently too hot for Don’s defenses, and he kisses Andrea passionately and rolls on top of her.

From here, we get a close-up of a paper that lets us know the nurse killer eluded a police dragnet, and we see it’s in Sally’s hands — she’s been reading it under her covers with a flashlight and now looks genuinely freaked. Well, you may not like Pauline, but you can’t say she didn’t warn you.

Dawn, sitting on Peggy’s couch, is calling to her unseen host that her other family members are just her nineteen-year-old brother and mother “who says she’s thirty-nine.” Peggy appears with two beers and slurs, “Like Jack Benny,” and then sits down and asks what Dawn was saying about Don earlier, adding, “You can talk to me.” I swear, if Elisabeth Moss for some reason ever wants to have her least attractive scene handy, she should carry this one around with her. It’s like the makeup people wanted to make someone else look as bad as Don — hair is a mess, skin is grey and the makeup and camera angle make her face look like it something out of Guernica. Peggy, who looks like she might have the spins, goes on that she was Don’s secretary, and she wasn’t even looking to be a copywriter, but she was discovered. “Like Esther Blodgett.” Hee. Dawn chuckles at that, and then Peggy puts down the beer and admits she’s lit up pretty good, to which Dawn amusedly agrees, “Y’all drink a lot.” Peggy laughs, and the way she can’t keep her head still is such a great drunken touch by Elisabeth Moss, but surprisingly, she still remembers what happened a couple minutes ago, and asks Dawn again what she was going to say about Don. Dawn asks her not to tell him about her sleeping there, and Peggy says she won’t — they have to stick together. Echoing what she once told Abe, she goes on that she knows they’re not in the same situation, but she was the only one in her own position (i.e., a female copywriter) for a long time, and she knows it’s hard. Dawn appreciates her saying that, and then Peggy seriously asks if Dawn wants to be a copywriter. Dawn, however, says she likes her job, and Peggy muses that being a copywriter is tough, especially for a woman. She asks Dawn if she thinks she acts like a man, and Dawn, treading lightly as she has since Peggy stumbled into the office, guesses that she has to, a little. Peggy nods and says she tries, but she’s not sure she has it in her. Oh, Peggy. Have you really forgotten Bobbie Barrett’s words of advice? Peggy adds that she’s not sure if she even wants to, although picking up the beer again and getting even drunker is probably more like the dudes in the office than the women.

In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close.

Oh, in the end, Gail and Joan lie on the bed together, Kevin between them. It's not the family Joan imagined, but it's the one that's not leaving.

Want more? The full recap starts right below!

[Note: What Peggy fails to notice (and I don't think it's just because she's hammered) is that there is a distinct amount of white privilege that separates what it means to be a white woman and a black woman in the workplace -- especially in '66. Even bragging that her boyfriend is covering the riots in front of Dawn, just after she clearly demonstrated that she has to live in fear of them, didn't tip her off. Peggy is starting to get so good at playing the men's games, that she's even starting to be blind to the other social injustices of the world. Hopefully Joyce will knock some sense into her, if Dawn doesn't. -- Rachel.]

Pauline is reading with only the night’s ambient light to help her and chomping away on Betty’s stash of Bugles, and this is one of those product placements where the show has to pay them, right? Pauline is then startled when she turns and sees Sally in the doorway, giving a huge gasp before Sally apologizes, saying she couldn’t sleep. Pauline informs her she can’t sneak up on people like that, “especially in this house.” HA! Even Pauline knows about the Rye Town Francis Spookhouse. Pauline consents to have Sally sit with her for a bit, hastily putting the large knife she has by her side out of Sally’s reach before asking why she’s scared, and Sally admits to having read the paper before saying that she doesn’t really understand what happened. For all Pauline’s objections before, she gives Sally the sugar-free version now, telling her that the girls were getting ready for bed when there was a knock on the door, and when they answered, there was a handsome man (overruled, but we’ll let her talk) there, and perhaps one of the victims knew him, “but probably not, because he was probably just watching them from afar.” She goes on that the poor girls in their short uniforms probably stirred his desire, and when Sally asks what for, retorts, “What do you think?” Wow, do Bugles put her in a truth-telling mood, or what? Pursuant to that, she tells Sally the girls didn’t run because they were scared, and probably figured the man couldn’t rape nine of them. “They didn’t know it was going to be worse than that. They didn’t know what was in store for them.” You’ll be shocked to know that Sally is really scared now, and even though Pauline brandishes the knife again, calling it her “burglar alarm,” Sally wonders how she’s going to get to sleep. In response, Pauline reaches for a bottle of Seconol, bites one in half, and asks Sally if she knows how to take a pill. And as I said in the recaplet, Betty may not be Mother of the Year, but Pauline is certainly making her look better.

Gail has her hands full with Kevin, who’s crying because Mommy and “Daddy” are fighting. Joan locks herself in the bedroom, and in response, Greg tells Gail (and Kevin) to get out before pounding on the door and yelling that he’ll kick the thing down if Joan doesn’t open up. Joan complies, but only so she can practically shriek, “Who goes back?” She goes on that Greg doesn’t get to make a decision like that on his own, adding that he’s never understood that, but Greg isn’t hearing her, and tells her they’ve both got their orders before storming out to “meet the boys for a drink.” When he’s gone, Gail, who didn’t make it out of the apartment, continues her Wartime Wife Wisdom, telling Joan that he just needs to blow off steam. Joan is still seething, but Gail promises that Joan can get through another year, and she’ll help. She adds that Joan should lie down, and Joan slumps her shoulders before heading off to take her advice. I’d feel really bad if I didn’t know what’s coming; instead, I’m making my popcorn in advance.

Peggy brings out some bedclothes for Dawn and says she hopes she doesn’t mind the couch, explaining that since her roommate moved out, the second bedroom is just littered with Abe’s stuff. I wonder if that means they’re actually living together or just that Peggy’s doing well enough that she decided to maintain the place on her own. Either way, Dawn says it’s perfect, and Peggy says goodnight, but lingers for a moment when she sees that her purse is still lying on the table. Of course, she’s surely thinking about the four hundred bucks and probably would reflexively pause before leaving it there in the unattended company of anyone, but Dawn doesn’t know that, and the look on her face when the camera goes back to her is exquisitely pained. Man, that is just one of those silent moments this show does so well that is going to stick with me. Peggy tries to put a Band-Aid on a spurting wound by grabbing the empties on the table, but there’s nothing she can say that will undo that moment, so she wishes Dawn good night once again and withdraws, surely disbelieving she was capable of such behavior, which is fitting. And it’s a good thing she’s so drunk, otherwise she probably wouldn’t sleep a wink.

The darkness has caught up with Don’s apartment, and he lies in bed, shirtless, ashen and fearful, when a re-dressed Andrea returns and breezily says she’s got to go, but she’ll see him. With breathing so shallow he seems like his cold has morphed into early-onset emphysema, he tells her that this was a mistake, but she refuses to cede her power over him, telling him it’s a mistake he loves making, because he’s sick — at which point he springs to action out of nowhere, grabbing her around the throat and shoving her to the floor. She struggles and flails, and although the action is not so realistic that she turns blue or ruptures any blood vessels, it’s still extremely disturbing. And of course, if we’re aware this is a dream and as such conclude that it’s a representation of his inner conflicts, it makes sense that he would be afraid both of Andrea’s overt desire and of his inability to resist it, but the fact that he chooses such a violent way to thwart them (after having gone through with the sex to boot) is disquieting, especially when tied to the rest of the episode. When the deed is done, Don recoils and then kicks Andrea’s corpse under the bed before climbing back into it, but when he looks over the side, he can still see her heels sticking out, and I think this moment is supposed to be poignant but it’s ruined by my mind going immediately to the Wicked Witch of the East. Don, better recover before her sister shows up! Don passes out again…

In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close.

Oh, in the end, Gail and Joan lie on the bed together, Kevin between them. It's not the family Joan imagined, but it's the one that's not leaving.

Want more? The full recap starts right below!

…at which point we cross-fade into Pauline, asleep on the couch the morning, still in her nightgown with the TV on. Betty and Henry arrive, and Henry tries to wake Pauline up, but she won’t be stirred because she didn’t let the other half of that pill go to waste. Betty, with Gene in her arms (and looking significantly thinner to me), asks where Sally is and runs off to search the Rye Town Francis Spookhouse, which means she won’t be back for an hour, which is too bad since, as a camera pan right and down shows us, Sally is asleep under the couch, just like the surviving victim of the Chicago massacre, except with a protector over her. I’m going to be the one who needs a sleeping pill after this episode.

It’s also daytime once again in the Draper apartment, and Don’s awoken by the bedroom door opening. He focuses to see Megan with a tray of food and a glass of juice; pleased that he’s awake, she opens the curtains and asks how he’s feeling. Hilariously, he looks over the side of the bed for dead legs, but not seeing any, asks Megan where she was, as he was waiting for her. His tone pretty much suggests that he felt unsafe without her, which manages to be both endearing and, given what we saw, unsettling, but she of course does not know anything about fever dreams both adulterous and murderous, and as such tells him she was home, but he was a mess and she was worried. I’m surprised she didn’t call a doctor if he was in that bad shape, but that line is just so he can tell her, “You don’t have to worry about me,” which as double-meaning segues go is fairly clunky for this show. But the subject of the day is apparently still on Megan’s mind, as she smiles and tells him okay, and then she gets up, hopefully to get the tray, and Don watches her, still dazed from more than just the fever.

Joan emerges from the bedroom to find Greg already at the table in uniform, and Gail, who tells her she’s got breakfast. Joan, however, just wants coffee, adding that she barely slept, and without further preamble, she tells Greg that she’s been thinking, and she wants him to go. Gail politely retires to the kitchen so the two of them can talk, and Greg’s delighted, but Joan disabuses him of any notion she’s taking any more of his insecurity-fueled bullshit: “I want you to go, and never come back.” Greg tries to tell her they need him, but she’s worked it all out in her mind: “Well, then, it works out, because we don’t.” And that’s really the truth, isn’t it? Greg grabs her hand, not without roughness, and tells her he’s important there, he’s got twenty doctors over there who rely on him, and look to him for his skill and leadership, not realizing, of course, that he’s saying, almost without subtext, that he values and needs that approval and sense of importance more than he needs or feels any obligation to her and Kevin. But why should I talk when I can quote Joan: “I’m glad the Army makes you feel like a man. Because I’m sick of trying to do it.” Greg makes his last mistake in glowering that the Army makes him feel like a good man, but she tells him he isn’t — he never was, not even before they were married. “And you know what I’m talking about.” I can believe there were times she thought Greg loved her, and that she even convinced herself he was devoted to her — after all, as stated earlier, this episode is definitely showing how little you may know what a person is thinking, even a person you’re very close to. But whatever compromises and rationalizations she may have made for this relationship, I’m glad she got to get that out in the open, in the end. Him returning to Vietnam is in keeping with the episode theme, but it’s the callback to the rape that really resonates on that level. Joan yanks her hand away for good measure, and Greg angrily grabs some of his stuff before threatening that if he walks out that door, that’s it. And Joan has had some hellacious lines this conversation, but what she does here is even more powerful: She shrugs her shoulders, not without some sadness, and simply replies, “That’s it.” When Greg’s gone, Gail emerges, and it’s kind of inexpressibly dear that she’s still holding the coffee pot in her hand; she stands uncertainly, waiting for a signal from Joan, who looks at her and tells her simply that it’s over. Gail wordlessly sits, thinking about what this will mean for her, her daughter and her grandson, and it’s another moment that’s made ten times more powerful by the silence.

Peggy gets up to find Dawn already gone, but finds a note — set right on the purse for good guilty measure — thanking her for her hospitality and apologizing for putting her out. I want to throw up watching it, so I can only imagine how she feels…

…and then we cross-fade into a sad but lovely shot; Gail, curled up on the side of Joan’s bed, asleep, Kevin in the middle, and Joan, watching him with worry in her eyes. We switch to an overhead shot as she turns onto her back and stares up at the ceiling, and for one final gut-punch, “He Hit Me (It Felt Like A Kiss)” kicks up as we cut to credits. Assuming I’ve recovered by then, I’ll see you week.

In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close.

Oh, in the end, Gail and Joan lie on the bed together, Kevin between them. It's not the family Joan imagined, but it's the one that's not leaving.

Want more? The full recap starts right below!

John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. His current film, “The Trouble With Bliss,” starring Michael C. Hall, Lucy Liu, Brie Larson, and Peter Fonda, can be seen this coming week in theaters in San Diego, Miami, and Salt Lake City/Ogden, as well as on iTunes and other digital platforms and cable VOD everywhere. (Facebook and Twitter here.) You can email him at couchbaron@gmail.com, follow him on Twitter at https://twitter.com/couchbaron, or check out his blog, “Pull Up A Chair,” which he’d just love for you to stop by.

The office lights are now out, and Peggy's typing away with only a desk lamp to guide her when she hears a strange thump. It's not really that kind of show, but violence has happened on it, and I admit that given the theme of the episode, I got creeped out when I first watched Peggy emerge from her office and ask if anyone was there. She treads gingerly down the hallway, and given that she's got her purse and coat in hand I think it would be the better part of valor to get the hell out of there, but she reaches the source of the noise -- Don's office -- and quickly opens the door. I'm guessing she knows Don's home sick, because otherwise I'd think she'd be asking to see something she couldn't unsee, but in this case, she gets a jolt of a different kind -- it's Dawn, who was just curling up to go to sleep on the couch. After the initial shrieks of fright, Peggy tells Dawn she should head home, but Dawn is clearly reluctant to do so, and eventually explains why -- even if a cab would stop for an African-American person, it wouldn't take her past 96th Street, and she's afraid to take the subway, because there have been riots in Bed-Stuy and she's afraid one could happen in Harlem as well. Peggy clearly never thought of that, but is certainly sympathetic, offering that Abe (she calls him "my boyfriend") is in Chicago covering the riots before asking Dawn stay with her overnight. Knowing that this situation is going to force her to walk all manner of fine lines, Dawn's a little hesitant, and tries to beg off by saying she's stayed at the office before, but Peggy's insistent, and I'm pretty sure Dawn's grateful. I'm sure you know the show well enough by now to guess that won't last.

Don's lying in bed when a woman's hand brushes his forehead -- he thinks it's Megan, but it's actually Andrea. And I didn't mention this in the recap, but it's still day outside when it was clearly night in the show's reality. Presumably, it's so Don wouldn't think it's weird that Megan's not home yet, but it does give away that something funky is going on. Anyway, Andrea tells him he left the back door unlocked, and obviously, if it were real, this would be some Fatal Attraction-level shit with her sneaking into Don's house unconcerned that Megan might be there, and then she tells him she just wants it fast. Good idea, with him only having about twenty minutes to live and all. She asks if he remembers that night at Lincoln Center "when you took me back to the loading dock. Your wife was waiting inside." And as much as this may be a fever dream, I'm sure we're meant to know that that memory is real. Oh, Don. No wonder Bobbie Barrett heard stories about you. Anyway, memories of the loading dock are apparently too hot for Don's defenses, and he kisses Andrea passionately and rolls on top of her.

From here, we get a close-up of a paper that lets us know the nurse killer eluded a police dragnet, and we see it's in Sally's hands -- she's been reading it under her covers with a flashlight and now looks genuinely freaked. Well, you may not like Pauline, but you can't say she didn't warn you.

Dawn, sitting on Peggy's couch, is calling to her unseen host that her other family members are just her nineteen-year-old brother and mother "who says she's thirty-nine." Peggy appears with two beers and slurs, "Like Jack Benny," and then sits down and asks what Dawn was saying about Don earlier, adding, "You can talk to me." I swear, if Elisabeth Moss for some reason ever wants to have her least attractive scene handy, she should carry this one around with her. It's like the makeup people wanted to make someone else look as bad as Don -- hair is a mess, skin is grey and the makeup and camera angle make her face look like it something out of Guernica. Peggy, who looks like she might have the spins, goes on that she was Don's secretary, and she wasn't even looking to be a copywriter, but she was discovered. "Like Esther Blodgett." Hee. Dawn chuckles at that, and then Peggy puts down the beer and admits she's lit up pretty good, to which Dawn amusedly agrees, "Y'all drink a lot." Peggy laughs, and the way she can't keep her head still is such a great drunken touch by Elisabeth Moss, but surprisingly, she still remembers what happened a couple minutes ago, and asks Dawn again what she was going to say about Don. Dawn asks her not to tell him about her sleeping there, and Peggy says she won't -- they have to stick together. Echoing what she once told Abe, she goes on that she knows they're not in the same situation, but she was the only one in her own position (i.e., a female copywriter) for a long time, and she knows it's hard. Dawn appreciates her saying that, and then Peggy seriously asks if Dawn wants to be a copywriter. Dawn, however, says she likes her job, and Peggy muses that being a copywriter is tough, especially for a woman. She asks Dawn if she thinks she acts like a man, and Dawn, treading lightly as she has since Peggy stumbled into the office, guesses that she has to, a little. Peggy nods and says she tries, but she's not sure she has it in her. Oh, Peggy. Have you really forgotten Bobbie Barrett's words of advice? Peggy adds that she's not sure if she even wants to, although picking up the beer again and getting even drunker is probably more like the dudes in the office than the women.

Pauline is reading with only the night's ambient light to help her and chomping away on Betty's stash of Bugles, and this is one of those product placements where the show has to pay them, right? Pauline is then startled when she turns and sees Sally in the doorway, giving a huge gasp before Sally apologizes, saying she couldn't sleep. Pauline informs her she can't sneak up on people like that, "especially in this house." HA! Even Pauline knows about the Rye Town Francis Spookhouse. Pauline consents to have Sally sit with her for a bit, hastily putting the large knife she has by her side out of Sally's reach before asking why she's scared, and Sally admits to having read the paper before saying that she doesn't really understand what happened. For all Pauline's objections before, she gives Sally the sugar-free version now, telling her that the girls were getting ready for bed when there was a knock on the door, and when they answered, there was a handsome man (overruled, but we'll let her talk) there, and perhaps one of the victims knew him, "but probably not, because he was probably just watching them from afar." She goes on that the poor girls in their short uniforms probably stirred his desire, and when Sally asks what for, retorts, "What do you think?" Wow, do Bugles put her in a truth-telling mood, or what? Pursuant to that, she tells Sally the girls didn't run because they were scared, and probably figured the man couldn't rape nine of them. "They didn't know it was going to be worse than that. They didn't know what was in store for them." You'll be shocked to know that Sally is really scared now, and even though Pauline brandishes the knife again, calling it her "burglar alarm," Sally wonders how she's going to get to sleep. In response, Pauline reaches for a bottle of Seconol, bites one in half, and asks Sally if she knows how to take a pill. And as I said in the recaplet, Betty may not be Mother of the Year, but Pauline is certainly making her look better.

Gail has her hands full with Kevin, who's crying because Mommy and "Daddy" are fighting. Joan locks herself in the bedroom, and in response, Greg tells Gail (and Kevin) to get out before pounding on the door and yelling that he'll kick the thing down if Joan doesn't open up. Joan complies, but only so she can practically shriek, "Who goes back?" She goes on that Greg doesn't get to make a decision like that on his own, adding that he's never understood that, but Greg isn't hearing her, and tells her they've both got their orders before storming out to "meet the boys for a drink." When he's gone, Gail, who didn't make it out of the apartment, continues her Wartime Wife Wisdom, telling Joan that he just needs to blow off steam. Joan is still seething, but Gail promises that Joan can get through another year, and she'll help. She adds that Joan should lie down, and Joan slumps her shoulders before heading off to take her advice. I'd feel really bad if I didn't know what's coming; instead, I'm making my popcorn in advance.

Peggy brings out some bedclothes for Dawn and says she hopes she doesn't mind the couch, explaining that since her roommate moved out, the second bedroom is just littered with Abe's stuff. I wonder if that means they're actually living together or just that Peggy's doing well enough that she decided to maintain the place on her own. Either way, Dawn says it's perfect, and Peggy says goodnight, but lingers for a moment when she sees that her purse is still lying on the table. Of course, she's surely thinking about the four hundred bucks and probably would reflexively pause before leaving it there in the unattended company of anyone, but Dawn doesn't know that, and the look on her face when the camera goes back to her is exquisitely pained. Man, that is just one of those silent moments this show does so well that is going to stick with me. Peggy tries to put a Band-Aid on a spurting wound by grabbing the empties on the table, but there's nothing she can say that will undo that moment, so she wishes Dawn good night once again and withdraws, surely disbelieving she was capable of such behavior, which is fitting. And it's a good thing she's so drunk, otherwise she probably wouldn't sleep a wink.

The darkness has caught up with Don's apartment, and he lies in bed, shirtless, ashen and fearful, when a re-dressed Andrea returns and breezily says she's got to go, but she'll see him. With breathing so shallow he seems like his cold has morphed into early-onset emphysema, he tells her that this was a mistake, but she refuses to cede her power over him, telling him it's a mistake he loves making, because he's sick -- at which point he springs to action out of nowhere, grabbing her around the throat and shoving her to the floor. She struggles and flails, and although the action is not so realistic that she turns blue or ruptures any blood vessels, it's still extremely disturbing. And of course, if we're aware this is a dream and as such conclude that it's a representation of his inner conflicts, it makes sense that he would be afraid both of Andrea's overt desire and of his inability to resist it, but the fact that he chooses such a violent way to thwart them (after having gone through with the sex to boot) is disquieting, especially when tied to the rest of the episode. When the deed is done, Don recoils and then kicks Andrea's corpse under the bed before climbing back into it, but when he looks over the side, he can still see her heels sticking out, and I think this moment is supposed to be poignant but it's ruined by my mind going immediately to the Wicked Witch of the East. Don, better recover before her sister shows up! Don passes out again...

Peggy gets up to find Dawn already gone, but finds a note -- set right on the purse for good guilty measure -- thanking her for her hospitality and apologizing for putting her out. I want to throw up watching it, so I can only imagine how she feels...

...and then we cross-fade into a sad but lovely shot; Gail, curled up on the side of Joan's bed, asleep, Kevin in the middle, and Joan, watching him with worry in her eyes. We switch to an overhead shot as she turns onto her back and stares up at the ceiling, and for one final gut-punch, "He Hit Me (It Felt Like A Kiss)" kicks up as we cut to credits. Assuming I've recovered by then, I'll see you week.

John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. His current film, "The Trouble With Bliss," starring Michael C. Hall, Lucy Liu, Brie Larson, and Peter Fonda, can be seen this coming week in theaters in San Diego, Miami, and Salt Lake City/Ogden, as well as on iTunes and other digital platforms and cable VOD everywhere. (Facebook and Twitter here.) You can email him at couchbaron@gmail.com, follow him on Twitter at https://twitter.com/couchbaron, or check out his blog, "Pull Up A Chair," which he'd just love for you to stop by.