Michael comes out of his office to see Kelly buttoning Ryan up in a beautiful silver-grey Indian tunic, and snickers, "Nice dress, Ryan." That would be sophomoric even if the tunic didn't stop just below Ryan's waist, which it does. Plus he's wearing pants. Kelly corrects Michael; the garment is called a kurta. Not that this seems to improve Ryan's mood. In an office TH, Michael explains that Kelly, "one of our most ethnic coworkers," has invited them all to a Diwali celebration, because Season Three is about getting everyone out of the office for any reason they can think of. Michael explains the highly significant Hindu festival of light commemorating not only the victory of good over evil but also the inner light within us all (oh, all right, I never heard of it before this episode either, so sue me) with typical sensitivity. Meaning he mocks Kelly's speaking voice and all the gods with unpronounceable names, and finally concludes that it's basically "a Hindu Halloween." Back in the bullpen, Michael, seeing the way that Kelly and Pam are admiring Ryan in his kurta, goes from mocking to "how come you didn't get me one?" in ten seconds flat.
In the conference room, Phyllis is using a flip chart to organize carpools to the Diwali thing. Pam's considering skipping the whole event, pleading tiredness. And Meredith's invitation to come over and watch Sex & the City with a pitcher of appletinis doesn't seem any more tempting. Later, at reception, Kelly harangues Pam about not going, and she admits that she doesn't have a date. So Kelly ropes in Dwight, who agrees he's "100%, totally single." That earns him a level-three glare from Angela over the room divider. The perils of a secret romance pale the perils of a secret romance with Angela.
In the break room, Kevin asks who is going to "this Indian thing" tonight. Roy tries to casually repeat the question, which only gets him mocked by Kevin for wondering if Pam's going. Angela warns everyone not to go: "They eat monkey brains." You're telling me that Angela sat through that much of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom before writing an angry letter to someone? I think not. From the soda machine, Michael leaps to the defense of the culture, saying they don't do that, and if they did, he'd be all over it. With one hand on Kevin's shoulder and another on Stanley's, Michael pays lip service to diversity and references Kwanzaa. "I don't celebrate Kwanzaa," Stanley rumbles. "You should, it's fun," Michael cheerleads. Well then, why doesn't he invite Stanley over for his Kwanzaa party? That's a scene I'd like to see, especially if Stanley actually shows up.
Inside, Ryan is telling Kelly's parents about himself. Which is really two conversations at once, because they're trying to treat him like he's a serious suitor, and he's just looking forward to buying an Xbox. They pointedly ask if there's anything Ryan wanted to ask them tonight. And there's Ryan's "trapped by Kelly" expression again, which is impressive on her part given the fact that she's not even at the table.
Pam is telling the whole doctor what a typical Michael move they just witnessed. But the whole doctor is kind of impressed with the size of Michael's samosas. "He's really outgoing, huh?" he asks Pam in admiration. Pam's like, that's one word for it, and just like that, the whole doctor is done. There's only one person Pam can share this moment with, just as Jim had to call -- well, someone -- when he thought Dwight had a hooker in his hotel room. Pam goes out into the hallway, fiddling with her cell phone, and runs into Angela unhappily munching on her dry naan. Pam invites her in to join the dancing, but Angela has appointed herself shoe guardian, because she's convinced somebody will steal them if she doesn't watch them. Which raises the question: Who would want to wear someone else's shoes home? Angela has a question of her own for Pam: "Who are you texting?"
Although Angela doesn't get an answer, we do. Jim is passed out on his desk, the cell phone to his head vibrating with Pam's message. It sounds kind of hot when you put it that way. Andy is laid out on the floor, singing "Closer to Fine." "Andy, no a cappella," Karen decrees. Andy falls silent, possibly due to unconsciousness. But after a moment he starts up again, and Jim comes around enough to join in, much to Karen's horror. Bet she's regretting trashing those shots now. "Tuna! Are you kidding me?" Andy crows gleefully, like this means they're going to be doing vocal duets for the rest of their joint career. It's almost as magical as if Jim had gotten Pam's text message.
Pam comes out and finds Michael on the school steps, trying to choke down some more spicy Indian food. Luckily she brought him a cup of water, which she hands over, waiting for a response on her phone that isn't going to come. She sits to Michael on the steps, and he decides that means it's therapy time. He tries to bond with her over their broken engagements, which doesn't really work as Pam reminds him that he wasn't actually engaged. "I was in the marriage arena, though," Michael says. Pam lets it go, and says she thought something would happen tonight too. Fortunately Michael is too self-absorbed to ask what, which of course is what she was counting on. "We're so alike," Michael says, and then turns his face towards her, closing his eyes and sticking his lips out. It is horrifying. Pam shoots him down, quite straightforwardly for her, and that's Michael rejected by two women in one night. Finally he begs, "Can I have a ride home?" "If you sit in the back," Pam says. She must not have a trunk.
In his office, Michael THs about the shameful cultural ignorance of his coworkers, and how he doesn't want them embarrassing him in front of his girlfriend Carol. Which is, after all, Michael's job.
Cut to Michael in the conference room, throwing an impromptu yet condescending symposium on Hinduism and Indian culture, which he starts by giving the floor to a completely unprepared Kelly. It turns out that she doesn't know a great deal more than Michael does about Diwali, which makes Angela's hostile questioning about polytheism kind of pointless. There are even color printouts of various gods pasted on the wall, one of which is blue and topless under the digital blurring. "That one looks like Pam from the neck down," Kevin titters. "Pam wishes," someone snickers (Dwight, according to the closed captioning, but it sounds more like Michael to me). Either way, Pam gives the camera an eloquent look that combines the thoughts See what I have to deal with? and How does this happen? and What is Toby's job, again? and If Jim were here, both of those little boys would be lying in pieces at my feet. Dwight takes the floor and begins to explain the origins of Diwali in terms of an ancient battle between gods, his nerdy enthusiasm for which subject gets him the hook from Michael. "This isn't Lord of the Rings," Michael says, sending him back to his seat.
His dress shirt and tie all sweaty (from biking to work, pervs), Jim walks his bicycle into the Stamford branch, clumsily clipping Andy's visitor chair as he rolls by. He THs (sweatily) that he got the idea from his boss Josh, who smoothly enters in spandex, effortlessly carrying his bike down the narrow aisle in one hand. Stamford has everything but outdoor bike racks, it seems. Karen mordantly compliments Jim's basket. Jim accepts with a sunny (and sweaty) grin. She meant the basket on your bike, Jim.
Michael has moved onto the slide presentation part of the meeting. "There are literally billions of people just like Kelly in the world. Here are some famous Indians." Cue slides of Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar, Kwik-E-Mart proprietor Apu from The Simpsons, and film director M. Night Shyamalan (of course you already knew who Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar was). After Dwight spoils The Sixth Sense, the slide is a washed-out self-portrait of Michael kissing Carol, and Michael laughs like, oh, gosh, what an embarrassing mistake, silly me. He's not in too much of a hurry to change the slide, though, is he?
In Stamford, Karen is called away to deal with a vending machine emergency, which provides Andy an opening to turn around and share with Jim his delusions about his "Sam and Diane" relationship with Karen. Which, needless to say, seems to be a lot different from the Andy/Karen relationship as experienced by Karen, Jim, and all other bipedal life forms.
Scranton. Michael hands out another product of Indian culture: color printouts from the Kama Sutra, which we get to see blurred-out versions of. Creed knows the names of some of the positions, which Meredith seems glad to finally learn. "This is the best meeting we have ever had," Kevin gushes. Angela protests, and in the back, Toby is somehow roused from his torpor enough to start gathering up the "inappropriate" pamphlets. Michael bitches about Toby's immaturity in an office TH, saying, "It's just sex. Everybody does it. Including me. With Carol. Probably tonight." Yeah, stupid immature Toby.
At Stamford, Josh is about ready to bike home for the evening, remembering to leave a corporate credit card for Karen to cover dinner. Jim THs to us what that's about -- he, Karen, and Andy have to stay late once a quarter for some contrived office busywork that for some reason can't be done during business hours. "Believe it or not, it's even less interesting than it sounds," he tells us. Taking your word on that, Big Tuna. No sooner is Josh out the door than Andy busts out some shot glasses and a bottle of Jägermeister. Yes, he's holding it with the label pointed away from the camera because even The Office stops short of product-placing hard liquor, but that square, dark green bottle is a dead giveaway. Um, according to my internet research, that is.
The office staff arrives practically en masse at the Diwali celebration, which appears to be held in a high school gymnasium. Sure, the space has been transformed with lavish decorations and it's packed with Indians and Indian-Americans in spectacular traditional clothes, but tomorrow it goes back to being a dodgeball arena. Everyone leaves their shoes in the hall, Kevin getting quite annoyed at Angela's remarks about his foot odor. Michael and Carol arrive right behind them. He's wearing the papier-mâché head and she's in a high school cheerleader costume. Which she can actually pull off. Still, she's kind of pissed at Michael for telling her it was a costume party, and his pointing out of all the saris doesn't seem to help. Kevin mocks her on his way past, and Michael snaps at him as he peels the papier-mâché head off his shoulder. So at least one of them isn't in costume anymore. What a gentleman.
Food line. Angela asks the serving guy what she can eat as a vegetarian. He tells her it's all vegetarian. Proving conclusively that she's never happy unless she has something to be miserable about, she bitches, "I'll just have some bread," and complains when he uses his fingers to slap a sheet of naan on her plate. At Michael's table, he spits out his samosa when he finds out it's not a s'more, then bitches in a TH about how it wouldn't have been that hard to make s'mores. He actually seems genuinely offended that an Indian celebration of a Hindu holiday was so thoughtless as to neglect the American campfire snacks.
Ryan is at a table, trying to make nice with the three younger Kapoor sisters who are swarming him, but all they want to do is titter to each other in another language. A smashing-looking Kelly (seriously, she's like a walking Bollywood musical number) comes to the rescue, telling them to knock it off. "They said something about Zach Braff," Ryan frets at Kelly. Oh no, is he worried that Kelly's sisters are among the hordes who thought Garden State was overrated?
Pam has decided to come after all, and in her sky-blue cardigan she THs that while she feels underdressed, "At least I'm not dressed like a slutty cheerleader, right? Is that mean?" Well, since it wasn't Carol's fault? Kind of. This is the tragedy of her separation from Jim: they can't calibrate each other's humor to stay on the right side of the line anymore.
Dwight rolls in, rocking a red dashiki like he was born in it (although of course it's much cleaner than it would be had that actually been the case). Seeing Angela, he screeches to an awkward stop, then spots Ryan and sublimates his Ange-lust by going into full-on temp-hazing mode. Ryan's so lucky he doesn't have pigtails, and that there are no inkwells nearby.
Later, which is more embarrassing -- Michael clumsily joining in on a traditional group dance on the main floor, or Dwight raising the roof on the sidelines? Carol watches Michael and smiles, as if trying to make up her own mind on that subject. Meanwhile, Kelly's parents are giving her a hard time about what a loser Ryan is, especially compared to the young Indian "whole doctor" they've got in mind for her, who is lurking awkwardly in the background. Kelly is so not hearing it.
Stamford. Andy counts down to what might be the second or third shot of Jäg, and he and Jim down theirs in unison. But with the boys' backs to her, Karen dumps hers into her trash can, then makes some impressive fake zowie-faces for Jim's benefit when he turns to share the moment. Of course I'm not the first to say this, but sneaky, sneaky Karen.
Roy arrives at the Diwali party, at which Indian music has briefly given way to a little Beyoncé. He's looking good in a dress shirt and blazer, but when he sees Pam happily cutting a rug with Kelly's whole doctor, he sadly turns and leaves. I would bust on him for giving up so easily, but obviously that's the strategy that works on Pam in the long term. And that's why I remain convinced that it's only a matter of time for her and Toby.
Later, Carol is out on the dance floor while Michael talks to Kelly's parents. He marvels at how they've been married thirty years after meeting only once before their wedding night. It's going fine until Michael has to ask whether Mama Kapoor will one day have to throw herself on Papa Kapoor's funeral pyre. In case you're curious, the answer is no. "It's still cool, "Michael assures them. Luckily, Carol drags Michael to the dance floor before either of them can start checking their pockets for matches.
Another three Jäg shots go down at Stamford -- two in the boys, one in the trash. And considering how trashed the boys are at this point, that distinction is getting a little blurry.
Michael can't stop staring across the room at Kelly's parents, who are a little creeped out by his attention. Carol asks if he's all right, and he says he will be. As always, he is wrong. Michael has been inspired, which in Michael's case generally means that he is about to do something stupid and embarrassing. Yep, here we go. He goes up front, commandeers the microphone, and stops the music. With everyone's attention, he calls himself a "crazy gringo" and awkwardly proposes to Carol in front of everyone. Everyone "aw"s excitedly, except of course for the people who know Michael. Especially Carol, who wants to talk about it in private. Michael is astute enough to see that as a bad sign, and drops the live mic on the floor before following her out. Great job, Michael -- stop the party, humiliate your date (some more) and yourself (a lot more), and then deafen everybody else.
Outside the building, Carol is seriously upset, pointing out that this is only their ninth date. Michael blathers about how he feels like he's known her for lifetimes, and maybe is a little Hindu himself. Carol doesn't even have to point out the fact that he had her come to a Diwali party in costume before he backs off of that. "I just like you so much," Michael says, which doesn't exactly sweep her off her feet. Carol's leaving, and Michael's on his own for a ride home. At least until inspiration strikes, and he makes one more big, romantic bid: "I've got this book called the Kama Sutra." "Good night, Michael," Carol says. And man, what a shame to let that cheerleader outfit go to waste.
Inside, Ryan is telling Kelly's parents about himself. Which is really two conversations at once, because they're trying to treat him like he's a serious suitor, and he's just looking forward to buying an Xbox. They pointedly ask if there's anything Ryan wanted to ask them tonight. And there's Ryan's "trapped by Kelly" expression again, which is impressive on her part given the fact that she's not even at the table.
Pam is telling the whole doctor what a typical Michael move they just witnessed. But the whole doctor is kind of impressed with the size of Michael's samosas. "He's really outgoing, huh?" he asks Pam in admiration. Pam's like, that's one word for it, and just like that, the whole doctor is done. There's only one person Pam can share this moment with, just as Jim had to call -- well, someone -- when he thought Dwight had a hooker in his hotel room. Pam goes out into the hallway, fiddling with her cell phone, and runs into Angela unhappily munching on her dry naan. Pam invites her in to join the dancing, but Angela has appointed herself shoe guardian, because she's convinced somebody will steal them if she doesn't watch them. Which raises the question: Who would want to wear someone else's shoes home? Angela has a question of her own for Pam: "Who are you texting?"
Although Angela doesn't get an answer, we do. Jim is passed out on his desk, the cell phone to his head vibrating with Pam's message. It sounds kind of hot when you put it that way. Andy is laid out on the floor, singing "Closer to Fine." "Andy, no a cappella," Karen decrees. Andy falls silent, possibly due to unconsciousness. But after a moment he starts up again, and Jim comes around enough to join in, much to Karen's horror. Bet she's regretting trashing those shots now. "Tuna! Are you kidding me?" Andy crows gleefully, like this means they're going to be doing vocal duets for the rest of their joint career. It's almost as magical as if Jim had gotten Pam's text message.
Pam comes out and finds Michael on the school steps, trying to choke down some more spicy Indian food. Luckily she brought him a cup of water, which she hands over, waiting for a response on her phone that isn't going to come. She sits to Michael on the steps, and he decides that means it's therapy time. He tries to bond with her over their broken engagements, which doesn't really work as Pam reminds him that he wasn't actually engaged. "I was in the marriage arena, though," Michael says. Pam lets it go, and says she thought something would happen tonight too. Fortunately Michael is too self-absorbed to ask what, which of course is what she was counting on. "We're so alike," Michael says, and then turns his face towards her, closing his eyes and sticking his lips out. It is horrifying. Pam shoots him down, quite straightforwardly for her, and that's Michael rejected by two women in one night. Finally he begs, "Can I have a ride home?" "If you sit in the back," Pam says. She must not have a trunk.
Stamford. The three sales people get ready to leave. Well, two of them do. Jim asks Andy for a ride, but Andy is wisely not driving. He instead offers to share his inflatable bed with Jim, as he starts spreading it out on the floor between his and Jim's desks. "It's a roomy twin," he says, in one of those rare little moments that occasionally show us how any of these people are able to sell anything at all, ever. Jim shakes several gigs of never-to-be-written slash fic out of his spinning head and rolls his bike out of there. Outside, he's on two wheels for about five seconds before toppling into the bushes. And there's Karen to the rescue, getting both Jim and bike into her SUV, and really impressing his blotto ass with how well she can hold her liquor.
Michael rides in the back of Pam's SUV (not the little blue econobox she picks Jim up in season, BTW) and he manages to both answer my earlier question and have a midnight-of-the-soul revelation at the same time: "These are not my shoes." After riding along in silence for a time, he brings up Taxicab Confessions. "If you say one more word, I'm stopping the car," Pam snaps. Fortunately for him, she doesn't seem to count his muttered "sorry."
And we go back in time for the tag. Michael, back at the party, is accompanied by a very serious-faced Dwight on acoustic guitar as he sings a song about Diwali set to the tune of Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song." He reads from a sheet of his own lyrics, rhyming the titular holiday with, among other things, "the goddess of destruction Kali," "party," and "Along Came Polly," which seems pretty much calculated to offend an entire major world religion. But after his big finish, the camera pans around to a rapt crowd, which erupts in totally sincere applause and cheering. Oh, please don't encourage him, Hinduism.