We open on a montage of Marin Frist (Anne Heche) giving her stump man-trapping lecture to various extremely appreciative, overwhelmingly female audiences. Apparently, Marin's mother used to tell her that finding a man is as easy as finding a cab, in a snowstorm, on New Year's Eve. Way to establish the notion of landing a relationship as a thankless slog that probably ends in disappointment and/or a stained hem, Mother Frist. That doesn't damage a young girl at all. Fortunately, Marin managed to ignore her mother; she describes that as "stinkin' thinkin'," and is telling her acolytes that there are "plenty of guys out there." Marin's voice-over breaks in to say that, a week ago, she thought she knew it all. She lectures that women can't act as though finding "the one" will make them happy, because to do so is to leave their happiness in the hands of others. Then we get to Marin's queer little automotive analogy: you can't drive with a blindfold on, nor can you date that way. Instead, you have to look out for the signs. And she has some! Ah, visual aids. Although maybe that's crucial in getting through to an audience of women so dim that they'd go to a self-help love lecture in the first place. If he's married, cheating, or "watches gay porn just for variety," one should STOP. There's something about a DETOUR with a cute ex-boyfriend who keeps showing up but won't settle down; you aren't going to MERGE if he's SLIPPERY WHEN WET. Well, I'll give Jenny Bicks this much: she has certainly taken on board the tendency of self-help writers to come up with a gimmick to differentiate themselves from each other. At least everything Marin says doesn't rhyme.
MVO says she was happy -- and she certainly looks it as she says she was getting married (the designer wants to give Marin the gown she's trying on as a gift). As Marin bears down in a spinning class, she says she'd quit smoking. (And though it goes by very quickly, I could swear that the woman on the bike to Marin's is Tori, which would make sense, since both women's shows film in Vancouver.) Marin stops proudly at a window display full of copies of her latest book -- I'm Dating, And So Can You. Not YIELDing To Possibilities or GO Find A Man or THIS LANE ENDS In Fulfillment? Lame.
Sometime later, Marin signs copies of her book at a glam launch party. She is soon accosted by Annie (Emily Bergl), whom she fondly tells, "You have got to stop crashing my book parties!" Annie says she just wanted to be the first to get the titles in paperback. Marin stops, resigned, and asks to whom she should make out her inscription. "Me," says Annie plainly. Marin -- too affectionately, under the circumstances -- asks Annie if she wouldn't rather stalk someone "groovier," like Bruce Springsteen. Update your references, Marin! Billy Vera, hello. "You...make me feel better," Annie breathes, creepily. Marin reads her inscription: "To Annie: Stop stalking. Start dating. Have hope." To The Men Of New York: Start avoiding Annie. Marin moves off; Annie gazes after her adoringly, and then scrambles to get one of Marin's stray hairs from her sleeve into a locket. (That might have been cut for time.)
Marin steps over to accept a flute of champagne from fiancé Graham (Tobias Slezak) -- a blandly attractive suited guy in the Daniel Meade mold -- just in time for Jane (Seana Kofoed) to make a toast from across the balcony, announcing with pride "as her editor" that Marin's third book has been "optioned" (as a movie? TV series? Do you just mean it's being published as a book? Because if so, that's the wrong word), "fittingly titled I'm Getting Married, And So Can You." Marin and Graham share a cute smile and hand squeeze that lets you know they're totally not going to make it. "Congratulations," purrs Kiki, the predatory brunette you know Graham is cheating with, who (fittingly enough) leans in between the "happy" couple to say it. Marin says it didn't hurt that a "New Yorker columnist" (this slag, presumably) gave her a good review, as if someone named "Kiki" could ever write for The New Yorker. Kiki says that Marin can thank her by letting her bum a cigarette, but the perfectly self-actualized Marin proudly tells Kiki that she quit: "Graham hates it." Kiki shoots a fleeting, guilty look at Graham as Marin adds that she now channels her addiction into spinning. Ew. "I wish I had someone to give up vices for," whines Kiki. She wah-wahs about her pitiful single woes of getting her own cabs, until Marin matter-of-factly dispatches Graham to get one for Kiki instead, OF COURSE, because Marin is such a good person, and later she'll be able to use this moment as a set-up for some weak joke about Graham giving Kiki a "ride."
A waitress shows up at this moment to refill Marin's glass, but Jane appears to stop Marin from getting wasted, expositing that she has a 7 AM flight to Alaska the day. Marin complains that only Jane would book her a speaking engagement in Alaska (as though that were what editors do, as opposed to agents, a distinction this show generally gets totally wrong), and Jane says she didn't book the one in Alaska, though she was responsible for the one the day after that, in Seattle. Marin spots a Daily News reporter cruising Jane, who tells Marin she knows the rules: "No coaching the editor." Not even on how to open her mouth all the way when she talks? That's a lesson Jane could really use.
Later, in bed, Marin names some random dudes as potential prospects for Kiki. Graham tries to change the subject with schmooping, but we don't see if it works...
...because we cut immediately to Marin on the plane to Alaska, realizing that she's brought Graham's computer with her instead of her own. She makes self-deprecating small talk with the old lady across the row as she boots it up to find "grahams_slideshow," which starts with a cute enough shot of Marin and her intended, which she shows off to her seatmate. The first two shots are innocent, but stupid Graham slotted in a shot of Kiki at #3. Worst cheater ever. Marin's face falls. The old lady looks on with pleasant expectancy, like she's waiting for Marin to identify her sister...until the photo comes up: Kiki kissing on Graham while he holds out the camera to shoot them both. The old lady's like, "Ooh," and then stops a passing flight attendant to order Marin a stiff drink. This is just like when that Rules lady got divorced! That was awesome.
Marin flies in a prop plane, clutching Graham's computer in her lap and looking supremely annoyed at the turbulence. They land, and Marin looks sad.
Later, Marin is sitting on her luggage on the dock, fiddling with her cell phone, when a tremendously ebullient Patrick Bachelor (Derek Richardson) appears to pick her up. He introduces himself and tells her not to hold his name against him: "I got both your books. Gettin' my learner's permit to love. Marin Frist!" Dude, she's written two books. It's not like she's Dr. Laura. Or a competent self-help writer who's very prolific. Not that anyone's leaping to mind. Let's move on. "Patrick," says Marin, like she's barely holding it together, "do you have a cigarette?" Patrick, thinking she's testing him, proudly says he doesn't: "Chapter 3, first book. 'Who's going to love your body if you don't?'" Marin's like, "No, but I'm full of shit. Where's a Sev?"
In his car, Patrick tells Marin about his many lines of work: "Radio personality, innkeeper...lover of women." Your mom doesn't count, Patrick. Marin squints out the window in barely concealed horror at the cultural wasteland she's found herself in.
Patrick pulls his Jeep up to a very tidily kept bed & breakfast and opens her car door for her. As she stares back at him in pleased shock, he quotes from another of her chapters that "chivalry isn't dead." She hops out...landing her four-inch heels right in a mud puddle. "Looks like someone forgot her mukluks," says Patrick cheerily. Marin's like, "Right, but I don't have anything else to wear; can you take me down to Saks?"
Inside, Patrick welcomes Marin to the quaint but cozy "Presidential Suite," which looks like every B&B you've ever stayed in, which is to say: Grandma's house. "Check it out!" says Patrick, proudly indicating the portrait hanging over the bed. "Lincoln." Marin's like, "And the Starbucks is...where, now?" After a moment, Patrick shyly invites Marin to be a guest on his radio show the day, and after making him feel small about the reach of his radio station, she agrees. Patrick is thrilled, and leaves her to the room, expositing that her "big lecture" is in three hours. Once he's gone, Marin sits heavily on the bed and flicks open her cell phone to regard the photo of Graham on her wallpaper. "Are you having an affair with Kiki Whitting?" she seems to ask it...
...but then we can see that some time has passed, and that Marin is actually talking to Graham on the phone. "Just say it. I saw the pictures. Nice slide show. Very artistic." Back in New York, Graham sits down to admit, "Yes." Marin nods: "'Yes' artistic, or 'yes' affair?" "Don't you ever just feel like you need to breathe?" Graham slimes. You could have "breathed" after you broke up with her, you pussy. "I thought we would do that after we were married," Marin stammers. "Which, going out on a limb here, isn't going to be happening? Is she good for you?" "I don't know," says Graham. "I just thought she was going to be a speed bump." "You're using my words to break up with me?" Marin boggles. At this moment, Graham's apartment door opens, and Kiki bellows, "Ready to go?" Seeing Graham's face, she shuts up, but we see she's in a tracksuit and carrying a bottle of water. Oh my God, they're exercising together? If they're even doing the unpleasant stuff together, he's really moved on. It would be like if she showed up to go with him to get his teeth cleaned. "She's there," Marin squeaks. "In my apartment? There?" "Marin," says Graham, even though he doesn't really have any follow-up. Marin, her eyes welling, stares at the phone for a second and then drops it on the floor in disgust.
Downstairs, courtly Patrick is trying his best not to be judgmental as he tells Marin that they don't have mini-bars. He directs her to the Chieftain.
Holding her collar closed against the cold, Marin picks her way along the sidewalk to the bar. Short ladies shouldn't cuff their pants, Mar. A big-city girl like you should know that. Looking at the other pedestrians, it's hard not to notice what they have in common: they are all dudes. And they all seem shocked at the sight of a fancily dressed blonde among them; many stop to double-take and "aooogah." After a few more steps, a large pine bough lands just at Marin's feet; she spots the warning sign that gives our series its title, and looks up to see a pair of lumberjacks, pruning a gigantic tree.
Chieftain. Men are drinking, shooting pool, scratching their nuts, spitting, cleaning their ears with their car keys, making more money for the same work -- you know, doing guy things. Marin makes a beeline for the bar and orders a Vodka Negroni from Ben (Abraham "Kubiak" Benrubi), who's tending bar. He asks her to refresh his memory, and she's like, "Bitters? Triple Sec?" He's out. She says she'll just take the vodka. She downs the shot he gives her before he can even turn around, and tells him, "Make it a double." As she settles onto her stool, Jerome (Timothy Webber), down at the end of the bar, points and drunks, "Do I know you?" Marin introduces herself, and he replies, "Yeah! You used to sell pelts -- stand out on Route 11." She tells him he's mistaken, and he agrees, but doesn't avoid a clout in the back of the head from Theresa (Sarah Strange), coming up behind him with a tray and telling him to leave Marin alone. Marin smirks and downs her latest shot, assuring Theresa that Jerome's not bothering her. "He will if you let him," Theresa smiles, and gives Ben her tray, cooing, "I hope you're hungry." As she sashays into the kitchen, Marin breathes, "That's nice. It's nice that people still like each other." Ben looks at her like, "Marin, you ignorant slut," and sets her up with another shot.
Presently, Marin is nudged at her right, for which a hoarse voice offers, "Sorry." Marin -- now quite full of Russian courage, it would seem -- grumbles, "Oh, that's original." Jack (James Tupper) is like, "The hell?" Marin: "The old pick-up line. Could use a little sprucing up, if you know what I mean." And what better place to spruce than way up north! Right?! Is this thing on? "I'm not trying to pick you up," says Jack, in that polite but brusque way we'll all come to know and love. Marin tries to convince him that he actually is: "Trust me, I know men. I'm a relationship coach." "'Coach'?" snickers Jack. "What, do you have a ball team?" "No, I do not have a ball team," says Marin, a bit haughtily for someone who tends to make her professional points with the help of "ONE WAY" signs on sticks. "Well, we've got balls," says Jack, looking around at all his brethren, and Marin crows, "You're one of those!...A looky-loo! You put yourself on cruise control and you flirt with women, but you never stop and get out of the car." She congratulates her excellent judgment of character with another shot as Jack looks at her catchprase-hole with alarm. Finally, he tells her, "My name's Jack, and I'm not trying to pick you up. I'm just trying to get a napkin." He reaches across her to do that, offering, "You need one? Coach?" Marin rattles that she doesn't, and if she did, she could get one herself, because she doesn't need a man to get her a napkin: "In fact, I don't need a man, period." Jack's like, "Maybe not, but you do need to get laid, Neurotica." What he actually says is, "Nice to meet you," and then quickly takes off. Marin watches him go, and then orders "one for the road." Oh, dear.
Darkness has fallen as Patrick hustles Marin toward the town hall or community center or dance studio or whatever the hell building her lecture's being held in. He tells her they've got a full house, and he's not wrong, but as Marin peeks in, all she sees are plaid flannels and bad haircuts. "Where are the women?" she asks. Patrick, after a moment: "We're hoping you'd kind of help us with that part." Marin has no response to that. Her being wasted doesn't seem to dampen her terror much. Patrick pushes open the door and loudly announces her; everyone turns around expectantly, and the crowd applauds.
Marin staggers to the stage, where she quickly bashes her head into a taxidermied duck hanging from the ceiling. She laughs self-deprecatingly and tries to shake herself into sobriety, finally just launching into her spiel with the can-do spirit of a summer-camp counselor. At Man Camp. But not "Man Camp" from Dr. Phil; that was creepy. Anyway: "Okay! How many of you guys think that finding 'the one' is gonna make you happy?" Most of the men in attendance raise their hands; even Jack, standing at the back of the hall like he's too cool for school, sort of nods. Marin goes on, eyes blazing with drunken bravado: "When did we decide that someone else was in charge of our happiness? We don't even let someone else order our soy lattes!" This line, which got a great reaction from the ladies montaged at the start of the episode, lands with a thud at this audience's steel-toed feet. Marin's like, "Bueller?" "It's a coffee drink!" Patrick pipes up helpfully. Marin: "The point is, don't cheat." These folks don't yet recognize what it looks like when Marin makes it all about her, but they will soon enough. "And you've got to look out for the signs," she continues, "which I didn't, even though it's my job. Yes, you," she says, to Jerome, who says he didn't have a question. Marin says she has one for him: "Let's say you're a guy. And you get engaged to this girl after dating her for a year, during which time she's laughed at all of your jokes, which, some of them? Not so funny. She's gone to your company picnics: snore. Family dinners: scary. She's pretty successful, she's kind, she's not half-bad in the sack. So why do you not want to marry her?" Everyone looks uncomfortable, because no one wants to say the hypothetical guy might not want to marry Marin because she's narcissistic, unprofessional, and drunk.
The day dawns at the Elmo Inn; in her room, Marin is awakened by whistles, and then a man's voice calling, "Happy! Here, Happy!" She looks out the window in time to see her neighbour crouching down so that a very cheerful-looking dog can trot into his hands. Marin shakes her head, checks her watch, and exposits, "Great, I missed my flight."
Later, Marin's dressed, and holding her phone out in front of her, trying to find a non-dead spot in the room. She finds one right to a door and sinks down, getting Jane's voicemail. Sighing, she leaves a message imploring Jane to call her. She starts to say something about Graham when she hears a cough on the other side of the door, peeks through the keyhole, and sees a woman's face. Marin totally overreacts, of course, staggering away from the door, which is presently opened by Sara (Suleka Mathew), who greets Marin with a casual "hi." Marin tries to recover as Sara advises her to keep her side of the bathroom locked. "My side?" Marin asks. Cut back to Sara, behind whom a somewhat pudgy guy is freeing himself of his jeans, telling her he only has half an hour before his shift. Sara smiles and pulls the door closed.
Downstairs, Marin tells Patrick she needs a spinning class. Marin...seriously? This town doesn't look like it has so much as a Payless; you really think it has a gym? Patrick has no idea what spinning is, and when she tells him, he starts babbling about how pointless it is. Marin calms down enough to apologize for the night, and to say that she missed her flight, but really needs to get out of Elmo. "Yeah, and you missed my radio show this morning," Patrick adds faux-casually. Marin looks genuinely distressed at her bad form, and apologizes for that as well. Patrick: "I had to interview my mom. Again." Marin says that Patrick really wouldn't have wanted her on the air today. Patrick tells Marin he thinks he's got something for her.
On the porch, Patrick introduces Marin to an aged bicycle, and hands her a can of bear spray. Marin regards it for a second, and then starts liberally spraying herself with it. Patrick gently tells her that she's to use it on the bear, if she runs into one. Wouldn't that...make her kind of sick? Or smell like a bear's predator's pee or something? I'm going to be honest; bear spray is not really my area of expertise.
Marin, in her green suede pumps from yesterday, rides through town -- WITHOUT A HELMET, for shame -- not really respecting pedestrians' right of way. She rides clean out of town, barely skidding to a stop on the gravelly edge of a cliff, where she stops for a moment to take in the gorgeous mountain view.
Later, Marin's back in her hotel room, freshly showered, and casually opens her closet to decide what to wear. Presumably, she wasn't considering anything made of raccoon, though she may rethink that now that she's spotted the one sitting in there snacking on a pointy flat. She gasps and slams the door closed, cowering away and calling for Sara or Patrick. No dice.
Later still, Marin's barricaded the raccoon in the closet by leaning an armchair against the door; she sits on the bed, still in her towel, clutching a heavy-looking knickknack in case the raccoon decides to chew his way out. A knock comes on the door to the hall, which Marin opens without turning her back on the closet: standing there is Jack. He says he heard she had a 911. "So you're a cop?" she sputters. He says he's a fish and game biologist; the sheriff called him. Taking in Marin's towel (and matching towel turban, of course), he cracks, "Is that what they're wearing in New York nowadays?" That's what they're wearing in Toronto, for sure -- sometimes accessorized with Ugg boots. (Shut up, they're warm, and I only wear them in the house.) Marin testily explains that all of her clothes are in the closet, with the raccoon. Even her underthings? She had two suitcases; she didn't pack a t-shirt and a pair of jeans? What was she going to wear while spinning -- she didn't even put her workout clothes in a drawer? Look, put her in a towel so she can have a re-meet-cute with the guy from the bar, but make it plausible, Bicks. Jack sets down a cage and confidently strides over to the closet; Marin stands by, knickknack locked and loaded. Jack cracks the door, and then closes it again, putting on some heavy-duty raccoon-handling gloves as he tells her what they have is a large, possibly rabid raccoon: "You're going to want to wait outside." "I'm not leaving that animal alone with my favourite purple faux-croc flats!" Marin declares. Marin, those shoes are ruined. Remember the good times the three of you had and move on. Jack presses his point, and Marin resists until he tells her "they go for the neck." At this, Marin flounces out to the hall.
While Marin waits, we can hear the fracas in the Presidential Suite as Jack extracts the raccoon from the closet. In a moment, he's out in the hall, carrying the raccoon in the cage, and hands Marin the mangled shoe: "The deceased." She gasps in horror. Jack also hands her an empty wrapper, advising, "You can't leave food out...or whatever this bar thing is." "These are very tasty," Marin lies, after a moment. Okay, fine: some of them are okay. But none of them is a Snickers, and much as we might try to convince ourselves otherwise sometimes.
Chieftain. Buzz (John Amos) is telling a now-dressed Marin that he's only making one flight tomorrow, to Sitka. Marin bravely says she'll go to Sitka, then, but Ben tells her that's in the wrong direction: "Anchorage'll get you to Hawaii." "What's in Hawaii?" asks Buzz. Oh, sweet Buzz. With the answer to that simple question, I could bore you for days. Sigh. Ben takes it upon himself to answer that Marin wanted to go there for "the honeymoon," but that Graham wanted Turkey (big Orhan Pamuk fan, our Graham? Or just a fan of Thanksgiving, and an idiot?): "He got to choose because she made him take dancing lessons." Buzz cracks up. "I told you all that last night?" asks Marin, slightly horrified at herself. "Somewhere between the vodka shots and the Schnapps," Ben confirms. Buzz wants to know "what kind of a pansy man takes dance lessons." The kind that resents taking them and gets back at you with a chippy improbably employed as a New Yorker columnist? Marin tells Buzz how desperate she is to get to Hawaii and, acknowledging that he's her only option, asks what it's going to take. "How much you got?" he asks. Marin's like, "On me?" Buzz exposits a big, unimportant tale about how he started Buzz Airways, which seems to be because he wanted to be able to drink instead of fly whenever he feels like it. Marin says she has $200. Buzz says he'll take it.
The day, Marin's neighbour is, once again, standing in his drive way, calling for Happy. "Goodbye, Happy," sneers Marin. "I'm going to Hawaii...where it's warm, and there are cigarettes." Don't ash on the beach, Marin, or I'll cut you.
Marin struggles to get all her gear to Buzz's plane, which is just disgorging Jane. "What are you doing here?" Marin asks. Jane says that's her line: "You were supposed to be in Seattle." Marin says she missed her flight, and Jane says she's there to make sure she gets on a flight tonight, to Chicago. "No flight to Chicago tonight," says Buzz cheerfully. Marin says Jane's welcome to come to Hawaii with her, via Anchorage. "No flight to Anchorage either," Buzz tells her. "Storm comin' in. Buzz Airlines is grounded." Is "Buzz Airlines" another name for "Air Canada"? (NEVER AGAIN with Flight 714.)
After the break, Marin and Jane are huddling together as they enter the Chieftain, Jane telling Marin that she heard about Graham and Kiki from her shrink. Jane looks around in alarm, asking Marin, "Is this a gay bar?" Buzz, down at the end of the bar playing cards with Jerome, raises his eyebrows. Marin tells Jane that it's the only bar, and that Elmo is lousy with men. Jane excitedly tells Marin to ask her why they're going to Chicago. Marin regards her, and Jane squeals, "I booked you on Oprah!" Again -- the job of an agent or a publicist. I am just saying. In response to the news, Marin sort of does this full-body sigh -- and bear in mind, this aired in fall 2006, so it's not even like Marin is just disgusted at how much the value of an Oprah appearance has diminished post-The Secret. Jane's like, "You're welcome, bitch," and Marin says she can't do Oprah: "I can't pretend that I know how to find a good man when I can't find one myself." Jane dubs that "stinkin' thinkin'," to which Marin replies, "Everyone has got to stop quoting me to me," I'm guessing because hearing it spoken back to her just highlights how insipid her advice is. Ben offers Marin a vodka, and Jane orders "a char-don-nay. It's a white wine." Ben: "If you like white, I have a [Frenchy-French Fancy Estates] 2001 that will knock your boots off." Because, see, the people may live in the sticks and look like rubes, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't ruin a man's life over a priceless violin...though that particular example may have happened on some other show...can't quite put my finger on the title. Jane and Marin stare at Ben in shock as he smirks off to get it. Jane tells Marin that she needs to get back on the horse: "Starting writing a book again and it'll be okay." "Oh yeah?" challenges Marin. "What's the name of the book gonna be? I'm Not Getting Married In Four Weeks 'Cause He Cheated On Me, And So Can You?" At least maybe readers could learn how Marin got to where she is -- I kind of feel like all self-help books should be cautionary tales. Buzz dubs Marin's proposed title "a little long." Marin self-pities that she apparently knows nothing about men, and Ben says, "Maybe you just weren't listening." "Men talk?" Jane old-maids. Ben plants his hands on the bar and declares, "You have Dirty Harry syndrome...Every woman thinks that she wants Dirty Harry. The tough guy, you know. Big gun. Strong. Silent. But really, what's getting you ladies all hot and bothered is Clint Eastwood, the guy who played Dirty Harry." "The guy with the gun who'll watch Harry Meets Sally [sic] with you -- and cook dinner," says Jerome. The random guy sitting to Marin at the bar says that if a guy makes too many dinners, he's a pushover." "Cooking dinner, watching girly movies -- what's wrong with you people?" mutters Buzz. Ben concludes, "Women want it all. We can't give it to you." "So you guys are kind of screwed," Marin epiphanies. "You got it," says Ben. A chorus of "Hm"s greets this revelation.
Back in the Presidential Suite, Marin reads aloud, from her own book, about breakups: "How to hammer the dents out and get back on the road." Marin's long-ago advice was not to wallow, but to take a shower, go back out, and smile. Eh, I've heard worse. "Because the guy's not going to notice you unless you have your brights on." You had me and then you lost me, Gypsy. "I'm totally full of crap," Marin decides. Not "totally," but probably more than half.
In a bookstore, Marin dawdles, alone, at a table covered in her books (on the cover of one of which she's drawn a big curly moustache on her photo) as Jane checks her Blackberry and announces, "It's official: no one in Alaska reads." Maybe they just don't read books that are mauve. And feel insulted that you're trying to move Dating in hardcover when we already saw at the top of the show that it's out in paperback. Jack enters, shooting Marin a look, which she returns with some muted excitement. "How you doin', Coach?" he greets her. Jane half-heartedly tries to sell Jack a book, saying that Marin is a dating expert. Jack laconically says he knows: "I was at her lecture." "Then you know how amazing she is," Jane boosts. Marin tries to shut her up with a look of pleading embarassment. "I know she can't hold her liquor," Jack grins, not meanly. Marin looks down, and Jack, seeing it, tells Jane he'll take a copy after all. "Don't buy my book because you pity me," says Marin. Must be nice to be able to turn away sales, Moneybags. Jack studies the cover for a second and then says, "Okay," setting it back down on the stack. Ha! Serves you right. Frist. Jack leaves, and Marin announces that she's "officially pathetic." Jane says she isn't: "You're going on Oprah." She heads outside to try to get the show to push Marin's appearance by a day (I'm so sure)...
...whereupon we see Annie peering in the bookstore window. Oh Jesus. "Marin?" she quavers as she walks inside. Marin, of course, is horrified to have been followed all the way to GODDAMN ALASKA by Annie. What does this girl do for a living that she can afford to pick up and travel that fucking far on a second's notice? And how did she get there if no planes were flying that day? And if she's been there for days, why is she only getting around to making stalk-contact with Marin now, when Marin was supposed to have been gone? I HATE ANNIE. Anyway, Annie (somehow) heard what happened with Graham, and says she had to take a bus from Vancouver. Okay, fine. "There's a bus to Vancouver?!" Marin demands of the bookstore clerk. He tells her it's once a week, and that she just missed it. Marin's like, "Not," and plops back down in her chair. Annie leans down and tells her, "Have hope." Marin's like, "The fuck, Squeaky?" Annie reminds Marin that she wrote that in Annie's book at the party. Marin having been quoted back to herself three times, I assume that the spell has been broken and we're done with this conceit. Annie says that Marin's given her hope, so now she wants to give Marin some. Marin says that's "really sweet, and really extreme" of Annie: "You deserve a great guy." I am not so sure there's a guy alive who deserves Annie, including ones in jail. Annie starts to brave-face that "he'll show up," at which some kind of realization dawns on Marin, and she hustles Annie out of the store with her.
Out on the street, Jane is trying to get a signal. This requires her to step up onto a snowbank and stand beside a street sign, which of course means that a guy in a little snow plow has to come along and tell her to move. Jane New Yorkishly refuses to give up the one spot in Elmo that isn't a cell-phone blackout zone, so the plow guy honks. She snaps, he tries to introduce himself, she rebuffs him, and he's like, "Your call," spraying her with extremely fake snow. I assume this was supposed to be the meet-cute between Jane and Plow Guy, but the Plow Guy of later episodes is played by a different guy. Which is good, because this one was kind of weaselly.
Oh JESUS. Marin brings Annie to the Inn and introduces her to Patrick. Okay, he's kind of a feeb, but even he doesn't deserve that. Patrick tells Marin that something arrived for her, which is upstairs in her room, so she leaves to let her matchmaking take its course, and Patrick and Annie soon realize that they know each other from the message boards on Marin's site. Awwwwwweeerggh.
Entering her room, Marin discovers that she's down another shoe (one of the green pumps this time), and that a raccoon is making sweet love to (or possibly befouling) her tulleriffic wedding gown. But now Marin is in sassy mode; she's not calling Jack, she's going to take on the wildlife her own self. They fight over the dress, the raccoon dragging the better of it outside. Marin follows, and finds the yellowed remains of her gown abandoned at the foot of the driveway, a note pinned to it: "Sory about everything -- Alice K. Amount due $9570.00." Leaving aside the question of how in the hell Alice K knew where to find Marin: classy move, Alice K. I'll bet Vera Wang wouldn't do that shit.
Inside, after the commercials, Marin has put on her mangled dress, the better to feel sorry for herself as she gazes in the mirror at the spectacle she makes. "Yeah, that's pretty much what it looks like" comes Sara's voice from behind her. Marin asks what she means, and Sara replies, "Marriage." Marin kind of chuckles, and then confides to Sara that, her whole life, she's thought of herself as "this other girl": "It's a total lie. I've never actually been alone, since I was sixteen. I always had a guy." Sara says that she's divorced, with a kid, whose dad moved to "the lower 48." Marin nods. "Go ahead," says Sara pleasantly. "Judge me." Marin says she's not going to judge Sara. "I judge me," says Sara, adding that she really wants to leave "the hospitality business," but that it's hard to find a guy who likes her for her. Marin says that she also had trouble finding guys who'd date her if they knew she was a relationship coach, so she'd lie that she was a computer technician. Which is funny, because if she knew even enough about computers to put a sticker on her own so she could identify it, she might still be getting married.
At the Chieftain, Marin asks Theresa for cigarettes and is told they come in on the ferry once a month, and that once they've run out, the alternative is chaw. Marin says that she's not that desperate, though she wisely adds a "yet." Heh. Marin bravados that she "can't stand guys," and Theresa exposits that she came to the wrong town, then: "The ratio's, like, ten to one here." "So men run the place," says Marin. "Are you kidding?" says Theresa. "We're the ones with the power. They're lonely, we're the prize. It's like shootin' fish in a barrel." Marin cracks that during all those years she was telling women to go to sports bars, she should have advised them to go to Alaska. "The odds are good, but the goods are odd," replies Theresa, looking a little embarrassed to trot out that hoary old line. Marin chuckles as she looks around and, spotting Ben, says that he seems nice, and "very into" Theresa. She tells Marin that they're separated; Ben wants to get back together, but Theresa wants "to see what else is out there." My advice? Start with Jerome. "So up here, women get to be men," Marin surmises. "Everyone gets to be who they want to be," says Theresa simply. Marin looks like she likes the sound of that.
Later, Marin walks along the road, until she thumbs a ride off a super-sketchy-looking dude; she tells him she's headed wherever she can get a cigarette.
In the truck, the driver gets all spiritual. Oh, great: because he's a First Nations character on TV, he has to go on about "our ancestors" in the stars: "If you don't believe, you'll end up like the frozen girl. She kept walking -- never looked up. They found her body frozen to death on Knock-Kneed Mountain, three hundred years old. Alone. No teeth. Fat." "She was still fat after three hundred years?" Marin marvels. "That's how fat she was," replies Magical First Nations Man. Guess you'd better get yourself a spinning bike, Mar.
The guy drops Marin off at a gas station, where a vending machine holds one pack of cigarettes that somehow doesn't get stuck on a spring on its way down, even though it's TV.
Marin walks out a ways to light her first butt, but is soon hailed by Jack, shining a flashlight at her: "Stop! STOP!" "Trust me, I've tried," crabs Marin. Heh. But, no: she's walked out onto a frozen lake, which cracks under her weight.
After the break, Jack has hauled Marin from the icy depths and brought her to his little...shack. Thanks for sparing us the cliché of watching the actual rescue, show. No -- seriously! Thank you! Jack asks whether Marin didn't see the "Thin Ice" sign (and I would think she would have taken notice of it if just to use in her lectures -- that's a new one, and with so many metaphoric possibilities!). She shivers that she didn't, adding, "Seeing signs? Not my strong suit." Marin asks where they are, and is told it's an observation hut; Jack was looking for a nocturnal bear: "Instead, I found a 'relationship coach.'" He's so sarcastic, he can even put air quotes around her job title without moving his hands. Well done! Marin despondently realizes that her mishap has ruined her cigarettes, and sorts of laughs as she says she's cold. Jack says she's getting hypothermic, but that it's too dark to walk across the ice. The only way they're going to make it through the night is...yes, that other care-worn TV cliché.
Cut to Jack's and Marin's feet, bare and sticking out from under a blanket. Worst way to stay warm ever. You cover your feet, for god's sake! But yes, other than that, they're pressed together, naked, to maximize body heat. I can't tell if one of them is also handcuffed to a radiator because someone lost the key. Marin snips that their getting naked for warmth had better not be "some sad attempt to get sex" on Jack's part. Marin, I'm pretty sure that if he's not making a move when you're stripped to your skivvies and lying on top of him, he's just not that into you. Sure enough, Jack quietly says, "I don't want to have sex with you." Every time he says it, my heart grows two sizes. Jack further suggests that Marin "stop thinking in stereotypes." Well, honestly.
In the morning, Marin awakens with a look of alarm, like she'd forgotten all the night's events. She starts kind of inspecting Jack (what she can see of him with her chest pressed against his, that is -- which includes a giant scar down his right pec, though she doesn't really seem to register it), and then he wakes up and amusedly asks, "Everything in the right place, Coach?" Hee. The door to the hut opens a crack, through which we see a pack of wolves run by. Marin breathes, "They're mating!" but Jack corrects her: "Actually, she's just rubbing her crap in his fur." Something he knows well by now. Maybe the wolves will "get busy" later, though, he adds. Jack's like, "You can get up now. PLEASE."
Dressed, Jack and Marin head to Jack's Jeep, as he tells her she'll have to drive, because he screwed up his shifting hand. Marin says she can't, and Jack tells her she has to. Marin hesitantly admits that she can't actually drive. Jack looks at her like she just told him she didn't know how to tie her shoes.
So Jack drives, and Marin shifts, musing at the irony of her using driving metaphors to teach people how to date when she doesn't even have a license. Jack doesn't really care to explore this particular aspect of Marin's professional incompetence, and tells her that Alaska is a good place to learn to drive, since it has plenty of open space. "So what's your secret?" she asks. "What you see is what you get," Jack tells her. Marin considers this, and asks him to drop her at the dock.
At the dock, Jane waits, still fiddling with her phone. Marin hops out, sans luggage. Jane asks what happened to her; Marin sort of shrugs, and Jane tells her not to worry about it: "You can shower in Chicago." Marin takes forever to announce what we've all known for an hour: she's not going. Jane tells her, "You can't stay here! They don't have a nail place! Or a spinning class!" Marin says she needs to breathe, and to start her book. "About marriage?" asks Jane, stupidly. "About men," Marin tells her. Jane reminds her that she said she didn't know anything about men, and Marin says it's time she learned. Buzz appears, and Jane hugs Marin, imploring her, "Please be okay." As she trots off, she adds, "You change editors, and I'll hunt you down and kill you." Yeah, I'm sure Marin's a treat to edit, not. Marin happily walks up the dock into town.
At the Inn, Annie and Patrick compare their results on a quiz in Marin's book. Surprise! They're compatible. Lord, she is tiresome.
Marin wads up her gown in the basket of the Inn's bike as MVO says that the truest thing she knows about relationships is that she doesn't know anything. Well, that's a fact.
At the bookstore, Sara picks up a copy of Marin's book. Outside, Marin, rides by.
At the Chieftain, Theresa shares a fond smile with Ben as MVO says you can't always get the one you want.
In New York, Graham lies guiltily to Kiki in bed as MVO says the one you get might not be the right one.
Marin rides past a car lot as MVO says that if you have hope, the universe will tell you exactly what you need: "The challenge is to let yourself be alone until the right one shows up."
Jack closes the blinds in his bedroom (oh my god, we have the same bed frame!), doffs his shirt, and sits on the bed as MVO says you can't hide, and the camera zooms in on "LYNN" tattooed on Jack's right arm.
A photo of a cute little boy from the past, pinned to the dash (or whatever) in Buzz's plane, takes us to Marin's view that heartbreak sucks, but that not having heartbreak (cut to lonely careerist Jane, tucking her Bluetooth earpiece into her bag) sucks more.
MVO takes it home just as Marin makes it back to the cliff she almost fell off some indeterminate number of days earlier: "The answers aren't in a lecture or a book. But maybe if you get yourself happy, you'll find the right one. I believe this, because against all odds, I'm still an optimist." Marin pulls the ball of gown out of the bike basket and hurls it off the cliff. We briefly watch it tumble down. It was the kindest thing for it.
"That's the thing about love," says MVO, as Marin gets into a used truck she's just bought, and improbably drives it off the lot. Okay, it's a jerky drive, and it looks like she almost stalls it a couple of times, but still. She got her license already? And if not, they let her drive a car away without one? Alaska is the new Deadwood. "If it were that easy, everyone would have it," Marin concludes. (About love. Not a driver's license.)
"So you're saying I should be more optimistic?" asks a male voice. Cut to Marin with cans on her ears. She finally made it down to Patrick's radio show. I hope she's Marin In The Afternoon; she seems kind of crabby in the mornings. "I'm saying you should ask her out," Marin counsels her caller, who thanks her. She takes off the headphones, but Patrick tells her she has callers on Lines 2 through 20 -- the most ever. Well, no kidding; the dudes are probably just hoping she'll start talking about what she's wearing. And I'd be interested in that too, because it's probably something cute.