By Wing Chun
Mountains. Eagle. Trees. Lake. Street. Alaska! In her room at the Inn, Marin sits on her bed, contemplating a promo postcard she's received, advertising a new show at an art gallery on Delancey, in New York; she's now getting her mail forwarded to the hotel, apparently. Those Entertainment Weeklys are going to be of little use to her now.
At an office somewhere, Marin tells Patrick that while she knows she said she was on the hunt for culture, "this diorama is about as big as this town." No points for detail? Patrick proudly says that it was the first thing he commissioned when he took over as curator of the Elmo Museum. Marin looks horrified that the town's museum apparently shares space with the town's post office, daycare centre, and bait shop. Patrick stoops to point out a tiny model of himself, waving. It looks more like Tom Poston (R.I.P.), but a tribute is a tribute. Anyway, Marin says she was hoping for something more along the lines of the ballet, or a wine tasting. Patrick says that they used to have a karaoke night at the Chieftain, until Buzz threw the machine out the window. Marin sighs, and Patrick reminds her, "We're Elmo, not Anchorage." Marin asks where Patrick takes Annie when they go out at night. Patrick backs away from a couple of dudes bringing in taxidermied rodents to confide in Marin that he and Annie "aren't getting out much these days." Translation: you don't need "culture" when you're getting in regular (and, in his case, for the first time in twenty-six years). Patrick adds that once they've finished their lovemaking, Annie always asks him to leave: "We still haven't had a sleepover yet." He thinks they're having "intimacy issues." Marin, dubious, asks how long Patrick and Annie have been seeing each other, and learns that it's been thirty-seven days. Marin laughs, not unkindly, and quietly tells him that "real intimacy takes time." Patrick asks how much time, because he's kind of a pain in the ass.
At Annie's, she and Patrick are smooching post-coitally, until she briskly sits up, puts her nightie back on, and tells him it's time for him to "skedaddle." Patrick demurs. Annie tells him that she has to get up early for work, and Patrick points out that it's only 8:45. Hee. Annie, undeterred, informs him that she has to get up super-early, and that she likes to make the bed as soon as she gets up: "And I can't make it if you're still in it." What else can she tell him? Uh...she has to wash the sheets? She has a conference call? She isn't bothered by his overlong toenails during the act, but as soon as she's not distracted from them, they gross her out? The guy who's servicing her on the night shift is going to be there any minute? Patrick -- perhaps with all of these possibilities running through his head -- asks if there's something she's not telling him: "If you're anti-spooning or something, that's cool -- I can de-spoon." Annie assures him that everything's great. I still think a pedicure is never really a bad idea.