Beautiful establishing shots of British Colaska, accompanied by The Thrills -- starting strong, Episode 3! Outside the inn, Marin tries to start her truck, but it's not co-operating (giving me time to covet her enormous sunglasses). She gives up and hops out.
Patrick's radio show takes us over shots of the town: as he tells us that there's a bachelor auction coming up to raise money for a new lighthouse (and I have to ask: is there really much value, for the ladies, in paying for a date in a town where you can't throw a salmon without hitting seventeen eligible, horny dudes?), Annie festoons the town's lampposts and telephone poles with flyers depicting a missing skunk, Chief Celia gives Buzz a traffic ticket of some sort, and Marin hauls ass (late again) into the radio station. As the last of these disappears in the background of the shot, the camera pans down the deck to show the (presumably) missing skunk in the foreground. I sure hope there's plenty of tomato juice down at the as-yet unseen general store, because if someone doesn't end this episode with a snootful of spray, then I've never seen TV before.
Marin enters, and as she makes ready to hop on the mic, she learns via Patrick's live announcement that she'll be the auction's celebrity host. She turns around, gasping in shock, and Patrick whispers that he already asked everyone else. Patrick throws to commercial, and Marin mugs at him, waiting for an apology. Instead, he rejoices that they've never had commercials to throw to before. She distractedly congratulates him, but Patrick turns it back around on her: "You're en fuego!" He tries to impress upon her what a feather in her cap it is that a local tackle shop has bought space on her show, but Marin would rather talk about the auction. Patrick confidentially asks whom she's going to bid on, but she says she can't bid on anyone, nor can she host: "I'm not an auction...hoster." Ladies and gentlemen, the town's most successful wordsmith. Anyway, Patrick's like, "It's announced, and even though you're bitching now, you know you're going to end up doing it, so just do it," and Marin relents. Patrick gets up to tell her about the day's other first: certified mail. He hands Marin the envelope, which she sees is a cheque. As Patrick takes his seat opposite her again, she ill-advisedly turns around in her seat as she opens it, allowing Nosy Grier to see over her shoulder that it's for $13,073 and squeal, "That's Powerball money!" Marin says that it's a refund for her half of the wedding deposit (for the hall, I'm assuming). She's a bit weirded out to be holding the "last remnant" of the wedding that isn't happening. Patrick asks if she's okay, and she says she is: the cheque is a bonus for her having made the right decision. "More like he made the wrong decision," Patrick supports. Marin agrees, ruefully adding, "Nothing a bride likes more than being reduced to a number." Patrick thinks that's a decent number for her to be reduced to, and they can up for her show. Hey, this must mean it's time for the show's Sex & The City-style thesis statement! Marin asks the men of Elmo, getting ready for the bachelor auction, "How much do you think you're worth?"
Chieftain. Apparently, Marin's just showing off her cheque, because Ben is looking at it and telling us how much it's for. Hey, Marin, if you're trying to impress people, maybe don't start with Moneybags McGee over here. Annie, down at the other end of the bar, thinks that's her paycheque from the radio station (which, until today, didn't have ads; starting to see why the skunk we just saw in plain sight hasn't been located, if Annie's leading the search), but Marin corrects her as to its origin. She explains that she and Graham were going to split the costs, and Sara marvels that Graham was going to make Marin pay for half the wedding when he was cheating on her. Marin says she's not going to dwell on the bum-out aspects of this windfall, and is instead going to spend it: "At my leisure, on my leisure." She starts by buying a round, with which no one seems to object. She gets up and runs over to ring a bell at the bar to announce her largesse to those not within earshot of her (not exactly quiet) voice, and the barflies cheer. Okay, getting to ring a bell would make that a lot more fun. Annie appears to be the lone dissenter, and she marches over to Marin to quaver that Marin, as a single woman, needs to save the money for a rainy day: "My mee-maw used to tell me a single woman should put away over half her earnings for a rainy day. It rains here a lot, Marin!" Marin's like, "The hell is a 'mee-maw'?" What she actually says is that she'll worry about rain when it comes; right now, the wedding dough is burning a hole in her pocket. She wants to buy something frivolous and expensive that she'd never get if she were in a relationship. Six hundred and fifty "full-release" massages? Annie begs Marin to let her invest the money in long-term high-yield municipal bonds, but Marin's not interested. Sara pipes up that if she came into that kind of money, she'd get shoes. Marin's down with that plan, but Sara's talking about sneakers for her kid. This is why you don't have children, people. They always need...like, things. And expect you to pay for them! Sara would then get a new chainsaw, and get a new roof.
Ben suggests that Marin spend some of her cash at the auction. Marin expansively says she may: "Perhaps I will buy me a man." Ben exposits that only the cream of Elmo is participating, including himself, and Buzz. "If his wife lets him," mutters Jerome. Marin is shocked to learn that Buzz is married, and Jerome says that Mai, Mrs. Buzz, is "an import": "A mail-order bride." Marin: "Does everyone just buy each other around here?" Sara's like, "Yo, some people just rent." Marin points out to Ben that he's "not quite a bachelor," given his situation with Theresa, and Ben says they're "giving separation a try. Seeing other people." When pressed, though, he admits that he isn't seeing other people right now, though he totally, totally could. When Jack enters and orders a beer, Marin turns to him like a flower to the sun, asking if he'll be prostituting himself in the name of marine safety. He will, of course. She says she would have thought he was the kind of person who'd find a bachelor auction ridiculous, and he shrugs that he does, without adding that he's getting in on it anyway in the name of civic responsibility, Marin. Jerome asks whether Jack's found his skunk; he hasn't, but plans to stake out the Dumpster. Yeah, you're sure to be able to smell something stinky around there. Marin asks why he cares to find a skunk, and Jack explains, "It's out of its element. Skunks aren't suited for the cold up here. She should be back in the Lower 48, huddled up with her mate. She's alone." You guys, how in the world will Marin manage to turn that sentence around to return the subject to herself? "Did it ever occur to anyone that the skunk wants to be here? Maybe she's fine and doesn't ned to huddle with anyone! What if she's celebrating the idea of making a go of things by herself?" Jack squints at her like, "Because...she's a skunk? And doesn't have thirteen grand to spend on a warm hotel room for the winter? Dumb-ass?" But then he decides not to bother and just heads for a table away from Marin. "Leave the skunk alone," she calls after him. As he goes, Jerome hears the new selection playing on the jukebox and demands to know who put it on. Marin says she did (of course); as Theresa sashays over, Jerome protectively asks whether Ben wants him to turn it off. Theresa says it's okay, and asks Ben to dance. "What the hell," he accepts. Sara leans over to tell Marin it's their song, as Ben and Theresa cutely slow-dance over by the pool table.
Sheriff's station. Buzz is in a holding cell, playing Uno with Chief Celia, who's on the free side of the bars. Or, rather, wires; it looks about as secure as those partitions dog owners put up to keep the pooch from hopping into the front seat of their cars. Buzz whines for lunch, and Celia says she just called in the order five minutes ago, telling him to be patient. He rejoins that she should switch places with him and talk to him about patience then. At this, in walks Mai (Lauren Tom), resplendent in a lavender chinchilla coat and put-upon attitude. In her old Mrs. Wong accent, Mai asks what Buzz did this time, and Celia says he was speeding, and "upped it" to assaulting an officer. Buzz, sounding tired, says he was two miles over the speed limit: "I had every right to flip you off." Mai rolls her eyes that it's something like this every week with him. At first she found the "bad boy" thing sexy, but now she's over it, and asks Celia what the bail is. Celia says there is no bail, and that Buzz will serve his time; he just "needs a little time-out every once in a while," in her view. Buzz tells Mai (interestingly) not to waste her money -- not theirs -- on bail, and that he doesn't have any flights today anyway. Mai crabs that she needs him at home, because their water heater broke again. Buzz glances over at Celia, who offers, "Three hundred." "WHAT?!" squeaks Buzz. Mai, unzipping her Chanel purse at Celia's desk, complains to Buzz that she was saving that money for the new Balenciaga motorcyle bag. Buzz, you MONSTER!!!1!
It's night, and we're still in the cold open? In the Presidential Suite, Marin tosses in bed, apparently unable to get comfortable until she stops trying to sleep in the middle and rolls over to one side. Maybe she would have had an easier time of it if she'd moved the pillows to the middle of the bed too. Rookie mistake.
The morning, Sara stands in the bathroom, asking Marin whether Patrick knows she's rearranging his furniture. Marin briskly replies that Patrick knows nothing about feng shui. She complains that the room is set up for a couple, with two of everything, so she needs to re-balance it for one. Sara seems to think that Marin is nuts (as usual, a pretty safe bet), and wanders off, wishing her good luck with her "personal power space." And...good luck rearranging the furniture in a room with two windows, three doors, and a fireplace, Marin. But still, she tries, positioning herself at one side and trying to push the bed. It's a big-ass grandma special, probably made of the heaviest oak the nineteenth century had to offer, and doesn't budge. Accepting that shoving isn't going to work, she comes around to the opposite side to try to lift it -- and does get it a couple of inches off the ground before dropping it again, landing a leg right on her stockinged toe. Oh, snap. Those toes might just have to come off now. At the very least, she probably won't have to worry about painting them until the nails grow back. She cries out for help, but apparently no one's around to hear. Or, they just figure that, since it's Marin, she's yelling because of a mascara emergency.
After the credits, Sara hurries in, sees Marin's predicament, and frees her. Marin, gasping in pain, sits down on the bed holding her foot, managing to breathe, "This is going to be harder than I thought." Sara, ever-practical, says that it's not so bad: the nail turns black and falls off. Hey, I was right! Also, ew. Marin says she didn't mean the toe; she was thinking that she'd never had trouble moving furniture before, and Sara concludes that it's because Marin always had a guy around to help her. Marin says she actually always had a guy to move the furniture to wherever she pointed. "I've been in a relationship since I was fourteen," Marin adds. "You had 'relationships' at fourteen?" marvels Sara, going for first aid supplies (I assume) in the bathroom. Marin recaps the first two episodes, basically, concluding that now she's alone, with this cheque: "I'm not good at alone." Sara asks what she's afraid of, and Marin says that while she's sure there are great things ahead, she's worried that, when those great things happen, she'll have no one to share them with. After a moment, she asks Sara, "Don't you ever get lonely?" "Not really," says Sara cheerfully; she has her son. Marin hops up at this, limping toward the bathroom door, and says she was thinking about what Sara said at the Cheiftain: "How much does a new roof cost?" Sara says she hasn't bothered to check. Hey, I can field that one: way more than you would hope or expect for something you only get to enjoy in a theoretical sense (I mean, you're not throwing barbecues up there), and enough that you'll really, really resent it when it's over. Perhaps that's just me. Marin -- sounding, in her defense, totally casual and matter-of-fact and not patronizing at all -- says that she has this money, she wants to celebrate being single, and Sara's single, and it sounds like Sara could use it: "So how about it? Let's celebrate you." Sara, instead of being polite and gracious in turning down a pretty generous offer, gets all pissy, walking over to the doorway to her room as she says she doesn't need Marin's "marriage money." She shuts the door behind her, leaving Marin nonplussed. Sara, maybe time, try "No, thank you." You don't have to be a crotch about it.
Patrick opens his Jeep door for Annie, who climbs out carrying a pie like it's uranium with an unstable isotope. Annie quavers that "this is big" -- having dinner with Celia -- though on the other hand, she and Celia have already met, and share an office together and all. "Let the lovefest begin," says Patrick, and Annie beams at him. Celia opens the door expectantly, a sheaf of papers in her hand. "She's been waiting," mutters Annie through clenched teeth, and Patrick says she always does that. Seeing Patrick, Celia lights up completely, hurrying forward to give him a huge hug. She then steps back, folds her hands, and curts, "Annie." "HI!" says Annie warmly. Celia asks if there's any news on the skunk; there isn't, but Annie's been putting up flyers all day. "I know," says Celia, holding up the papers in her hand. "I've had to take most of them down. Town ordinance?" She finishes with a look of weary disapproval. Annie, by way of answer: "I made a pie!" Celia shoots Patrick a regretful look, on Annie's behalf, as she takes it, saying that Patrick's "not much of a pie person," and prefers cake. She goes inside, and Patrick -- apparently oblivious to the simmering tension -- quietly assures Annie that he likes pie as well. Annie steels herself before going inside.
Later, Patrick, Celia and Annie are seated around the table when Annie warmly tells Celia she thinks it's "great" that Celia and Patrick have a standing Thursday-night dinner date. Celia: "Yes. Well. He used to come over every night." Annie's smile fades. Celia's blooms anew as she turns to Patrick to congratulate him about the commercial she heard on the radio that morning. She also cracks up over the way he promoted the bachelor auction -- "We're selling beefcake by the pound!" -- and Patrick suggests that she go. Celia dismissively says that she doesn't need beefcake by the pound. Um, a few ounces might not go amiss if you...uh, had the right recipe? I'm going to stop that analogy before it gets much grosser. Patrick quietly tells her, "It's time, Mom. You never know when you're gonna find someone, or [looking at Annie] they're gonna find you..." Annie cocks her head, smiling. Celia, ignoring the look, tells Patrick he should enter the auction himself: "Wouldn't that be a funny story for my grandkids? 'Your mom didn't just meet your dad -- she bought him!'" She laughs, snortingly. Patrick agrees that it would be funny, but reminds Celia that he's with Annie now -- even pointing at her, across the table, to remind Celia that she's...like, there. In the room. At the moment. "I think your mom's right -- you should do it," clips Annie. "Really?" say both Bachelors, in unison. Annie chirps that she's never bid on anything at an auction before, and that Patrick would be the perfect prize. Celia smiles wanly. Annie adds that she just got paid, and has to save "most of it," but that she has "a little mad money." Celia, looking grim, gets up from the table as Patrick murmurs, "How mad is it?" Annie leans forward flirtatiously to say she has $200. "That's some pretty angry cash," says Patrick appreciatively. Annie can't think of anything else she'd rather spend it on. Before they can lean any closer to each other, a plate comes crashing down from above. "Who wants cake?" says Celia briskly. Moment ruined! At least there's dessert.
Bachelor auction! The skunk skitters under a car in the parking lot as the patrons and beefcake file in. Mai catches us up, asking Buzz, "You bought me, now I buy you? Must we continue this dance?" Buzz says it's for a good cause, but that she shouldn't bid more than $200. Sara is handing out the "Manalogue" when Annie and Patrick walk in. Patrick can't believe how many women are there, and Sara says they've come from miles around. She tries to give Annie a manalogue with all the lots' "vital stats," but Annie says she doesn't need one, giving Patrick's arm a proprietary graze as she heads for her seat, and he heads for the staging area or whatever. Ben comes up to ask if Sara's seen Theresa, which she hasn't. He's worried that she won't show up to bid on him; he doesn't want to go home with some old lady with a houseful of rabbits. Yeah, what is up with those? Why do they stink so much? They're worse than hamsters. Ben asks whom Sara's bidding on, and she says she's just there to help out, but has no intention to bid: "Feels kind of nice pimping you guys out." Ben says that he feels like a dog in the window. Sara assures Ben that "a sweetheart like" him is a "hot commodity." Sweet, nothing -- the guy's loaded! I might go live with an old lady who kept rabbits if she had a house like his. Sara sends Ben on his way with a reminder that his "access to free booze" also boosts his value.
Suddenly, Marin flusters in, all breathless and late and shit. In fact, I guess I could have said, "Suddenly, Marin Marins in," because that's pretty much how she makes all her entrances. She doesn't seem to have dressed for her role, either; she's not even in a dress -- just a boring Oxford shirt. Hey, I watched Starting Over Season 1; she could have at least worn a string of pearls. Marin buttonholes Sara, saying, "I need to talk to you." Sara coldly says she's busy, and hands her a manalogue, moving off. Patrick hurries over to tell Marin she's late (of course), and to tell her to start studying her manalogue so she knows what she's selling. Marin is distracted by her fight with Sara, and caught off-guard when Mai aggressively comes over: "You're Marin Frist, from New York, New York." Marin, seeing Buzz behind his wife, guesses that she must be Mai, but before they can get to know each other, Patrick hustles Marin away to get ready. I...don't know what the point of that was.
Later, the auction's underway; the ladies seem pleased with their purchases, and Marin is rolling with it. Marin introduces Buzz, but warns potential bidders that, since he's married, the "flight may include dinner, it does not include membership in the Mile High Club." Buzz makes a face like, "Eh, it might." Mai bids $50. Behind her, Celia quietly bids $60. Mai turns around, horrified. They continue bidding back and forth, until Mai bids $100 and Celia bids $300. Marin: "Mai?" Buzz shakes his head; Mai looks distressed. Buzz is sold to Celia. It's...awkward. He takes his seat to a glaring Mai.
, Marin introduces Patrick, and Annie starts the bidding at $50. Some blonde chippy we've never seen before bids $60. Soon, we're up to $125, with Chippy adding, "He's cute." Patrick smiles shyly. Bidding bidding bidding; Chippy hits $200. Annie hesitantly bids $201; Chippy immediately shoots back with $250. Marin prompts Annie, who looks at Patrick; he nods urgently. Annie can't bring herself to dip into her savings, and Patrick is sold to Chippy. Celia smirks approvingly. Patrick goes over to sit with his new owner, and Annie turns to the mulleted gal beside her to say, "We're seeing each other already. So what if he goes on one date with her?" "Don't forget the dance, too," says Mullet, as if Annie can do anything about that now. Annie's like, "Right, two dates, but still, I have him forever, and $250 is crazy." "It was a game of Chicken, dear," says Mullet. "You blinked." Annie knows Mullet is right about that, if not about current hairstyles.
Ben's turn! The lucky woman who buys him will get an evening of tasting wine from his personal collection, not to mention cheese. Marin starts the bidding at $50, and when no one responds right away (Theresa having still not shown up), Sara bids. After that, the bidding goes quickly, with a dude in the front row bidding $100. Guy likes wine! The bidding continues, and then Theresa is off to the side of the state in a doorway, bidding Ben up with the rest. He goes for $250 to Theresa.
The auction continues. Marin makes some guy do pushups. Buzz turns around to look at Celia, who studiously avoids his gaze. Jerome shows off his dance moves, and a pair of septuagenarian twins wave their appreciation. And then, the last lot is Jack, of course. Marin introduces him as a fish and game biologist, adding that he's good for more than tranquilizing a mad caribou. Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Marin asks Jack what kind of date he has planned for the lucky winner; he says he doesn't have a plan, as such, but supposes he'll do "whatever she wants." Marin: "You heard it, girls: it's ladies' choice!" She starts the bidding on Jack at $100, and a cute brunette in the back quickly bids. A dirty blonde in the front is in for $125. Marin looks surprised and dismayed that there are other women in Alaska who find Jack attractive, like, really? The bids go back and forth for a moment until Marin pipes up herself: "I'm in for $200." "Can you bid?" asks Jack. "I just did," says Marin. Cute Brunette stays in it up to $500, and then Marin decides to show off her great big dick to women from as far away as Ketchican: "Let's put this baby to bed, shall we? Thirteen thousand dollars." Gasps abound! "It's good for the town, right?" Marin shrugs at Jack, disingenuously. Jack looks scared at what Marin might make him do for that much money. At least she probably won't be in the mood for a foot rub any time soon.
Skunk alert! Now it's out by a garbage can in an empty lot across from the Chieftain.
In the Presidential Suite, Marin is working at the cute little secretary when a knock comes at the door. It's Jack, looking all handsome and tidy in a beige mock turtleneck (eh, I know, but he makes it work) and slicked-back hair. Marin tells him he looks nice, and he nervously says he doesn't know what kind of $13,000 date she's expecting, but he was thinking of a picnic, and hoists up the basket to show her. Aw! He has a picnic basket! Too bad picnics are never worth the trouble -- who wants to eat outside on the ground? And drink warm juice? Just go to a restaurant with a patio if that's what you're into. Anyway, Marin says that sounds sweet, but that she had some ideas of her own. Jack: "What did you have in mind?" "Let's start with the bed," says Marin. "The...the bed?" stammers Jack. She nods -- she wants him to move it back against the wall. Wah wah.
At the dock, Mai is concerned about Buzz's date with Celia. If she wanted him to remember fondly what he had to come home to, maybe she shouldn't have decided to see him off in a black and electric blue short-sleeved fur jacket that makes her look like half a Grover. Buzz assures Mai that he's just taking Celia "for a spin" in his plane, and then for dinner. Mai's like, "Yeah, you do that. You take her for a spin." Buzz, amused, reminds her that they've been through this. Mai sighs that he should have let her bid more: "This woman's into you." "She's just lonely," Buzz insists, expositing, "And you know we have a history. I used to fly with her husband." Buzz promises Mai that Celia isn't into him...but the strip-club music on the soundtrack begs to differ: Buzz looks up the dock to see Celia, made-up and blown-out and accessorized and everything. I mean, anyone else in the same ensemble would just look like she was on her way to the mall on a Saturday afternoon, but on Celia, it's like she's a Pussycat Doll. Buzz is like, "Oh shit," and Mai turns around to take in Celia's brazen lavender ribbed sweater, slatternly knee-length skirt, and the scandalous inch of leg between her hem and the tops of her cowboy boots. WHORE! Mai turns back to Buzz: "Spin, burger, back." Buzz does not argue.
Back in the Presidential Suite, Jack fixes something in the closet while Marin eats an apple from the picnic basket. She tells him there's lots more for him to do, and he pokes his head out to say he can't believe this is the date she paid for. Marin's like, "Why not? Town needs a lighthouse. I need some stuff done around here. Besides, this is all the stuff I'd be paying my super to do, anyway." Jack asks her what a super is, since he's apparently never read a book or magazine or seen a movie. Marin chuckles at "Wilderness Boy," but tells him not to worry about that: "Focus on the shelf." Jack rolls his eyes.
Ben's palatial estate. Theresa's set up wine and cheese on a balcony that looks to open off a bedroom. Ben thanks her for the rescue at the auction, and they clink glasses. He asks if she was jealous; she doesn't answer for a moment, and he says he understands jealousy. She tells him that they had "the thing" before, and he guesses that she means the dancing. Ben says that he knows things are "odd" right now, but before he can get through whatever speech he has prepared, Theresa moves in and kisses him. They make out. It's cute; the gorgeous vista behind them doesn't hurt.
Over a shot of Buzz's plane, we hear him and Celia talk about going to Sitka.
Outside the Inn, Marin sits in the driver's seat while Jack tinkers under the hood. OF THE TRUCK. He's crabbing, "I can't believe I packed a picnic basket. I can't believe I bought a picnic basket!" Aw! Hee. Marin smugly nasals that she really appreciates it, adding that she'll make it up to him the night, at the dance: "I do a mean Hustle." Jack doesn't seem pleased that they still have to go to that, but Marin informs him that her $13,000 has bought her "harsh labour and foxtrot." He tells her to try the engine; it works. Marin says that she thinks they're done, and Jack replies that they'd better be. She can't hear him over the noise of the engine, with the hood still open, and he yells, "I can't do any more!" She mishears and puts the truck in Drive, and hits Jack; the foley guy really sells it with a loud, wet-sounding thud to accompany Jack's cry of pain. Marin gets out to see what she's done, coming face to face with Jack, flat on his back, his lower half under the truck. "I thought you said 'put it to the floor'!" squeals Marin. "Okay," says Jack. "Date's over." Rather.
At the Inn, Sara sees a client off at the front door. Annie walks in as he's leaving, and asks whether Sara's seen Marin. Sara pleasantly says she hasn't, and Annie says she has a problem and wanted to get some help from Marin: "That's what Marin does! She helps." Sara -- very maturely not contradicting Annie about this despite her recent falling-out with the life coach in question -- asks if she could help Annie. After a moment, Annie recaps what we know about Patrick's participation in the auction, and how upset she is that "that WHORE -- no offense" swept in and outbid her. Sara says that it's hard to compete when it comes to money, but Annie says she has money, and wanted to outbid Chippy, but that she couldn't tune out the voice of her mee-maw in her head, droning on about how single girls don't have men to rely on for money. Sara's like, "The fuck is a mee-maw?" Anyway, Annie was too concerned about her emergency fund, and now Patrick's out with Chippy, and Annie's here with her "stupid two hundred dollars." Sara can't recall which girl bid on Patrick, and when Annie reminds her that she was "tall, blonde," and with a "painted-on sweater," Sara's like, "Oh, shit, dude. She's totally blowing him right now." She says that this sounds like an emergency (even if not the kind Annie's mee-maw probably ever foresaw).
Buzz and Celia dine in a nice restaurant (no burgers, it looks like; more like quiet piano music and linen tablecloths). Buzz uncomfortably says that this is weird, but Celia disagrees. Buzz says he's used to talking to Celia through bars: "Now we're eating prime rib and you're all dolled up." Celia shyly denies that she's dolled up, but Buzz points out the lipstick, skirt, and "glitter." Celia, pleased that he noticed, claims that "this is how one dresses when one is off-duty and enjoying a meal." Buzz asks if she remembers the time the two of them came to this restaurant with Hal (her late husband, presumably) and got drunk on Sambuca. Celia chuckles. They were celebrating Hal's having "flown fifty thousand miles without a scratch." Celia agrees that Hal was always safe, "'til the one time he wasn't." Buzz exposits that Hal's been gone twenty-five years. "Twenty-six," she corrects him. "Maybe it's time you moved on," says Buzz. "I am," says Celia, hurt. "How?" asks Buzz. "By sitting alone in your office, or in your squad car? Until you get bored, and then you lock me up so you'll have someone to talk to? You deserve more than what you've got, Celia. You should be with someone. But I'm married, and I love my wife." Celia blinks. That's about as nice as that speech could have been, under the circumstances.
Chieftain. Patrick is boring Chippy stupid with Tales Of Annie; specifically, he's disappointed that Annie could have dropped out of the bidding: "What am I worth to her?" He has to be reminded of his date's name: "Tiffini." I know you think that's a typo, but she assures us both that it's not: "Two 'F's and three 'I's." Damn. She's also totally styled like the two hookers from Fargo. (Go Bears.) Anyway, Patrick says that if the situation were reversed, he would have taken out a loan to buy Annie. Tiffini's like, "Are we eating, or can I leave? Also, worst $250 date ever." At this, Annie comes stomping in, and informs Patrick, "You can't do this." He's like, "Huh?" She means he can't go out with... "Tiffini," she supplies, annoyed. Patrick says, "It's two 'F's and three 'N's." "'I's," she corrects him, even more irritated, and he shoots back, "Whatever." Annie -- totally not picking up on the fact that Patrick and Tiffini clearly hate each other -- rages, "You're mine." Tiffini says that, actually, Patrick is hers: "I bought him." Annie says that she has $860 -- her entire paycheque, "minus taxes" -- that says otherwise. To Patrick, Annie adds, "I'm all in." Patrick shakes his head that she doesn't have to do this, Annie says, "This is what I've been saving for! You are my rainy day." Aw? She turns back to Tiffini, wad of bills in hand, and asks, "Do we have a deal?" Tiffini shrugs and takes it -- because, duh, she and Patrick hate each other -- adding, "You could have had him for way cheaper. He's been talking about you all night anyway." She leaves. Annie and Patrick dork out.
The morning, Jack limps to the door of his house to find Marin; she's come to check on him. He says he's fine; she disagrees, and he tells her it's just a sports injury: "It acts up whenever I'm hit by a truck." Marin asks if he's had breakfast yet, and he says he doesn't need it. Marin implores him to let her do something for him, because she feels so bad, but Jack tells her not to: "It was an accident." Marin says it's just breakfast, and Jack reluctantly lets her in.
Marin tells Jack she knows her way around a kitchen, and he apologetically says that between the skunk (remember her? Why on earth would he be bringing that up with ten minutes left in the episode?) and the auction, he hasn't had a chance to get groceries. She opens the fridge to find something stuck to the bottom of a frying pan; Jack sheepishly identifies it as "yesterday's breakfast." Okay, gross, but if we're really supposed to think of him as a helpless bachelor, it's going to take more than a couple of dishes left on the kitchen counter; the full load of clean dishes drying in the rack beside the sink gives Jack away as someone who can take care of himself in a way that leaves a minimum of squalor and filth. Marin opens a cupboard to find it crammed entirely full of single-serving cans of tomato alphabet soup. Jack claims that he uses them when he's "out on the trail." TOMATO, PEOPLE. Are you seeing where this is going yet? Do you need smoke signals? Semaphore? An Aldis lamp?
Ben and Theresa afterglow, spooning. Ben wakes up and squeezes her arm, saying, "Last night was amazing," and because she's the little spoon, he can't see her dismay as she agrees that it was. He can tell the tone of her voice, though, and is like, "What." "I think maybe last night was a mistake," Theresa mumbles. Ben, gut-punched, withdraws his hand and thinks, "Jesus, when did I become George?"
Back at Jack's, Marin has returned with groceries, which one of them has already turned into a sandwich for Jack. He tells her that she didn't have to shop for him, but she says that she likes to pick out food for other people. She also apparently likes to have at least five different kinds of herbal tea on hand. Marin pulls the garbage can over to the fridge, whining as she asks when he last cleaned it out. Jack, not interested in Marin's wifely ministrations, purposefully says that he has work he should be doing. Marin tells him to go ahead and work: "Don't let me stop you." She starts taking jars and canisters of unidentifiable goo out of the door and tossing them in the trash, and he leaps up to stop her: they're not old food, they're plant samples. Unlabelled, though, which...unhelpful. Trying to be nice, Jack haltingly says that he appreciates what she's trying to do: "But I'm not like you. I don't have a problem being alone." Knowing that Jack's completely nailed her, Marin is instantly defensive about it: "Neither do I!...I'm fine!" Jack's like, "You've been here over six hours." Geez, Marin, I know there's not a lot to do in this town, but go order some books from Amazon and then READ THEM. At least go bowling, damn! Jack, realizing that what he's about to say is a cliché, tells her that he needs some space. Marin mugs, "Are you breaking up with me?" "That can't be happening, because we aren't dating," says Jack, upbeat but hesitant, like he's not actually sure that she isn't so crazy she doesn't know that, and is trying to be gentle in case she flips shit on him. Marin says she knows they aren't dating, and Jack's like, "Then why are you cleaning out my fridge?"
Again, Marin knows Jack's right, which is why she has to make way too big a deal out of leaving, announcing that she's off to "go be alone now," adding, "I didn't shell out thirteen thousand dollars to be criticized." Jack, instead of telling her that she can't lord the money over him or anyone else when no one asked her to spend it, says, "Criticism's on the house." HA! He smirks as he starts to close the door, and she starts to stomp off, but he sees where she's going and tries to stop her. She ignores him for a few steps until she also turns around and sees that she's about to tread on the skunk. With heedless bravado, Marin calls back to Jack that she's found his skunk. Before he can intervene, Marin's like, "Why is it raising its tail?" Comedy!
After the commercials, Marin's soaking in Jack's tub, which he's completely filled with soup, explaining that the acids in the tomato are supposed to break down the oils in the skunk spray. Who says TV isn't educational? He adds that, mostly, she's just going to smell more like tomato than skunk. She sort of chuckles, with a sickly smile, and then Jack's like, "Are you crying?" But of course he says it in that Jack way, where you know he doesn't really care if she is, which I adore. "I'm the skunk," says Marin, like we hadn't already twigged to that in the cold open. "I'm lost up here. I can't be left alone to take care of myself. I can't even move furniture!" She says she knows she sounds crazy, given the kind of books she writes and the ironic predicament she is now in. Jack says she doesn't sound that crazy (though he's probably grading on a curve; he did hire Annie, after all). Marin ruefully says that she was going to use the wedding money to celebrate her single self, and instead she bought a man. Just like she said she was going to! At least we can celebrate her consistency. Marin sobs a little as she says she can't handle being single: "I'm stinky single-serving soup!" Jack sits on the edge of the tub to say that she's not bad at being single, and Marin, smearing a noodle "X" on her cheek as she wipes her eyes, says she still sleeps on one side of the bed. Yeah, but if that bed has been slept on by generations of couples, there's probably a big ridge in the middle anyway. Jack says that's small stuff, like rearranging furniture or fixing her truck. What's important is that she left everything she knew in New York and moved four thousand miles away to rearrange her life: "That's big. So don't sell yourself short." Marin looks like Jack's being nice to her is just making her want to cry more. He reaches up to take the noodle off her face. She sort of melts at him, like she thinks he's just caressing her, but he tells her, "You had an 'X.'" Thinking he means "ex," she scoffs, "Don't remind me." He shows her, and she's like, "I'm even more embarrassed, and I'm already soaking in soup." Jack gets up to fetch another can, telling her that even if she's stinky, he's still going to the dance with her. Marin thinks him, but says she thinks she should go alone.
Dance. Annie and Patrick nerd it up; he's flattered that she bought him back at a scalper's price. Annie has no regrets. He dips her, and they kiss, which she says was worth $860, despite how it looked to the home audience (which: eh).
Sara, over by the punch bowl, watches Patrick and Annie dance with a fond smile. Marin -- again, not dressed for the occasion in a dumpy pullover blouse and slacks -- rolls up to try to make peace again. Sara has a smile for her, too, but soon rears back as she gets a big whiff of her skunk/soup marinade. Marin says it's a "long story," but is glad that at least Sara's talking to her. She says she didn't mean to insult Sara the other day, and Sara says she knows that Marin was trying to help: "That's what you do." Sara explains that she's been on her own for a while, which may have made her tough -- too tough, maybe, because all she heard in Marin's offer was pity, and she may have overreacted as a result. Marin says she doesn't remotely pity Sara: "You're a single girl making a go of it. I can't wait to be as strong as you." That's a nice line. Shut up, I'm actually being sincere! Sara smiles, and then twigs: "Shouldn't you have a date?" Marin says that she thought she'd fly solo. The two of them lean against the table (I can't believe they missed an opportunity for Sara, smelling Marin's stank, to shift over just a tiny bit), until a dude comes up to ask Sara to dance, which she happily accepts. Oooh, yeah, Elmo HATES Sara. Marin watches them go...
...and then stares off into space for the episode-closing radio voice-over. Apparently, one of the hardest things about being single is believing that you're "worth something alone." Celia enters, in uniform, as MVO says that too many single people sell themselves short. Celia takes a couple of steps in and stops dead when she spots Buzz and Mai dancing close. Buzz looks up at her, but snuggles closer to Mai. MVO says that there's a value to figuring out who you are on your own, as she watches Annie clinging to Patrick. "Because we can't invest in someone really special until we invest in ourselves." Annie sees Celia, all alone, and lets Patrick go to dance with her. Jack enters and spots Marin from across the crowded room. They share a smaile and a wave, and then Marin lets herself out for some air. "Maybe being alone isn't something to be suffered through. Maybe it's something to celebrate." Marin hugs herself, and looks up at an astronomical event in the sky -- looks like shooting stars. "And sometimes the universe celebrates with you." Yes, Marin. That's just for you, for figuring out how to hang your own paintings. "And just because you don't have someone to share the celebration with doesn't make it less beautiful. Like, the other night, I got a meteor shower. Just for me. Not too shabby for a single girl, huh?" As the camera moves around, we see that the skunk is right there at Marin's feet, but now they've both learned how to be alone, and maybe don't have to attack people who don't wish them ill, in their different but equally annoying ways.