We open with the usual establishing shots of San Francisco. The Cory voice-over tells us that she doesn't really feel comfortable in San Francisco yet, that she doesn't "have anything to hold onto," like a favorite café etc. Well, duh. She moved here like five seconds ago. I suggest that she might consider leaving the house and exploring a bit. Cory then tells us how "talented" her roommates are, and how they all have specific goals. Oh dear god. This entire episode is going to be about Cory, isn't it? I think I'm going to cry.
Oh, I was wrong. we see Rachel in the kind of fugly, sexless navy suit that Republican women wear in order to forget that they're part of a political party that is built on systematically shafting their rights. Anyway, she's meeting some muckety-muck at a local Republican group. Later, she's telling Puck and Cory about a conference she will be attending on Thursday. Puck wants to know if it's "Spenders Anonymous." Rachel says that it's for Jack Kemp. Puck says something that I can't catch and since my poor American TV can't translate Canadian subtitles, it will be lost to the mists of time. I'm sure it's no big loss. When was the last time Puck said something worth repeating? In response, Rachel says, "If you don't vote you have no right to complain." Damn. I hate it when I have to agree with Rachel.
Mohammed has invited everyone to the club his father runs, called "The Upper Room." It's a non-alcoholic smoke-free place that features local poets and musicians. Over shots of everyone getting ready, the Cory voice-over tells us that Mohammed is a great guy because he writes his own poetry, and he has a good relationship with his girlfriend. Is that all it takes? Yet, it's sad to note how many other Real Worlders have tried that very thing and failed (Kaia, Jason, oh hell -- pretty much every other Real Worlder past, present and future -- I'm looking in your direction). While getting ready, Cory tells Rachel that she thinks Mohammed's girlfriend Stephanie is "so pretty," and Rachel cattily replies, "She's got makeup on."
I guess Puck wasn't there when everyone else was invited, because Mohammed is inviting him, and Puck, of course, has to spout some lame-ass poetry that I won't repeat because he gets enough air time. But let me just say that there is a "firs dance" vs. "first dance" confusion between him and Cory that goes on entirely too long, and makes me wish that a director would step in and yell, "Cut!" already.
At the club, Mohammed reads a poem that is actually pretty good. I'd repeat it, but again, I can't hear a couple of lines clearly and I have no subtitles.
Outside the club, Puck tells Mohammed that his poem brought a tear to his eye. Back at the house Corey says that she "felt so white," and "so freakin' boring." Agreed. Dudd mentions that it seems like she's coveting "the struggle," but Cory disagrees. Dudd tells her that she isn't "boring or ordinary because [she hasn't] had to overcome something." But he doesn't do her the favor of telling her why she is boring and ordinary. If anyone should know from boring, it would be Dudd.
God, now we have to sit through more Cory soul-searching. Yawn. I have better things to do than watch Cory writing in her journal. Suddenly (or more accurately, "On the first night," but you wouldn't know that except for the clothes) Cory is telling Pam that she wants to find something that's like rilly rilly important to her that she wants to do for the rest of her life. Pam, in her pirate shirt says, "Y'Argh. That process do be taking a long time." Or something. My god, if someone started boring me with their "I just want to find myself" crap the first day I met them, it would be physically impossible for me to be half as nice as Pam. I wish somebody would sit Cory down and tell her that your twenties are all about finding out who you aren't, and your thirties are about dealing with what's left. Or at least that's my understanding of the process. Anyway. Cory asks Pam why she wants to be a doctor and Pam says, "I be getting to know me mateys in a certain way that do be very intimate and meaningful." Yeah? So does a call girl. What a non-answer. Then Pam spies her chance and shrieks, "Land ahoy!" and runs off. Cory's voice-over again reminds us how "incredible" and "talented" all the rest of her roommates are, which segues to Pedro at the "National Task Force on AIDS Prevention." Or at least that's what the paper that the camera helpfully zooms in on says. Pedro is sitting around a table with some other people in the organization. Some guy tells him about another person with AIDS, named Shawn (who Pedro already knows and thinks is cute), who he will be working with. Pedro tells the guy that he has a date with him on Thursday. Pedro informs us that he met Shawn at a march in Washington, and set up a date with him when he got into town. Over footage of their date, Pedro's voice-over says that this is the first time he's been out with someone who understands what he is going through. Shawn asks Pedro if he's going to move out to San Francisco permanently, and Pedro says that he's "keeping [his] options open." Pay attention kids, because if they only replay one line from their entire date, it's bound to be significant later.
Rachel is at her conference, and there's this huge "Empower America" banner over the stage. Rachel's voice-over lets us know that she wants to meet other conservatives in the area and sucker them into giving her a job. There are several shots of Rachel talking to various, mostly doddering, white men. I have seriously not seen one other woman at this thing yet. Get a clue, girl: "Empower America" is obviously shorthand for "Empower White Males Some More."
Back at the house, Puck asks Rachel how her "thing" went, and she's all excited because the "father of the hydrogen bomb" gave her a ride home. In an interview Puck says, "I don't know who Jack Kemp is, but I think her politics are shitty." Well Puck, I do know who Jack Kemp is, and I still think Rachel's politics are shitty. So, once again I'm forced to agree with one of these nudniks.
Rachel is talking to Mohammed about Jack Kemp's plans to sell low-income houses to the people already living in them. Mohammed points out that the people in low-income housing aren't going to have the necessary money saved up to buy a house, and laughs at the idea. Not in a malicious way, but rather in the you-can't-be-serious way that you would laugh at a plan to solve world hunger by issuing everyone Taco Bell food coupons or something. He, quite rightly, asks Rachel where the people are going to get the money to purchase said housing, and Rachel insists that it's a "viable program," but she isn't able to speak over everyone so she snits off, saying, "I obviously can't argue in this house." Which is true, but only because she's unable to shore up her opinions with actual facts -- probably because she doesn't have a real understanding of the issues, and is just parroting what other Republicans have told her. The Dudd voice-over tells us that Rachel was "beyond mad," and, in fact, "hurt."
Rachel is in her room, bitching to Dudd about Mohammed. She says that he "belittled" her, in contrast to Pedro who, even though he didn't share her beliefs, was "diplomatic." Um. I guess by "diplomatic," Rachel means that Pedro kept his minority mouth shut. Rachel then tries to claim that she doesn't care, but Dudd calls her on it, saying that she wouldn't be this upset if she didn't care. Rachel amends that by saying that she doesn't care if everyone in the house disagrees with her politics, but what "matters to [her] is that [Mohammed] would do it in a way purposely meant, you know, to hurt [her]." Because Rachel is one of those girls who is offended if you have the bad taste to (a) disagree with her and (b) state it so openly. In an interview, Mohammed calls Rachel a "believer," over shots of her at the convention (where Rachel is the only woman and definitely the closest thing to a minority), and hopes that she won't be hurt by her idealism. Then we're back to Rachel saying, "There's some people you can, you know, discuss politics and social issues with civilly, and there's some people who can't handle it, and now I know that Mohammed can't handle it." Because, if you recall, Mohammed is the one who ran from the room practically crying when someone didn't agree with his political views.
Now we get an extended shot of the tropical fish, because even though they do nothing but swim around in their own shit day after day, they're more interesting than the Cory storyline we're going to set up here. Cory is in the kitchen munching saltines. She's telling Pedro and Sean that she asked Mohammed's girlfriend Stephanie if she was "part white." For some reason, Cory doesn't understand why thta made Stephanie "angry." For god's sack! How tactless can you get? I'm so appalled that Cory thought that was in any way an appropriate question to ask anyone. Cory says, "I guess the question really offended her and I felt bad." Sean advises her to not "kill" herself "with saltine crackers over this." It's very nice of him to reassure her when I'm sure he'd rather just be reading his book. Cory goes to bed saying, "Goodnight 'men,' 'guys,' whatever. I don't want to offend you by calling you 'boys.'"
Just to belabor the point some more, Judd, Rachel and Pedro are sitting around the table discussing Cory. Because Bunim-Murray believes we are stupid, we have this scene to spell out for us that Cory doesn't know what to think half the time, and even if she does have an opinion, she's not strong enough to stand up for what she believes in.
Later, the roommates (sans Puck and Judd) are sitting around the dinner table, and Mohammed very nicely explains to Cory why Stephanie was upset when Cory asked if she was "part white." I'm going to assume that everyone reading this has the five necessary brain cells to rub together, and that I don't need to list Mohammed's reasons. A sniveling Cory reiterates how bad she feels and says, "That wasn't like a compliment and it wasn't like a put-down. It was just like a question." Yes, an extremely rude and tactless question. Mohammed reassures her that nobody is mad at her, and Pam gets up to give Cory a hug. She relates an anecdote that reveals how she used to call Asian people "Oriental" when she was a child, because she didn't know any better, and then she found out that "Oriental" refers to objects, not people. The only important part of that story is that it took place when Pam was a child. How does Cory not know by her age that it's just not okay to go around asking people you've barely met what their ethnic makeup is?
"What it boils down to is that I have to decide what is right for me and hold onto that and stick to that," says the Cory voice-over, as we see footage of her signing up to volunteer in the San Francisco school district. So there we have it. Cory has Purpose and Direction now. I hope they don't put her in with high-schoolers, because they will just eat her alive.