Or can he? Suddenly, "Make Your Own Kind of Music" starts playing on the jukebox, which triggers a memory for Desmond. Something about a guy who wears a wig made out of Snickers bars... This concerns Donovan, but Desmond's off and running now, saying he remembers this night. He notices the television above the bar, featuring a soccer game, or as they call it over across the pond, "telly." He says Graybridge comes back from two goals down in the final two minutes to win ("It's a bloody miracle!"). And then he says some guy named "Jimmy Lennon" comes through the door and hits the bartender in the head with a cricket bat because he owes Jimmy money. Donovan ain't buyin' it, but I can't wait to see that.
They watch the television. "They'll score the first goal right now," says Desmond, and they watch as Graybridge... doesn't score. "No, no, they came back! They won!" says Desmond, upset (he looks just like me watching the Oilers all year), and he looks to the door for Jimmy Lennon. Instead, two women, or "trolleys," in England, walk through the door. Desmond looks rather deflated as the two trolleys walk past. "There's no such thing as time travel, Des," says Donovan, who adds that from what he understands, "true love is just as unlikely," which is one of the saddest things I've ever heard (especially since he just said time travel doesn't exist!). But this is his way of coming around to say that if Desmond loves Penny, he should stop messing about and marry her. Meanwhile, Donovan's going to quit messing about and finish building that flux capacitor.
Desmond returns home to his flat, where Penny has fallen asleep really awkwardly sitting up in bed. She stirs as he moves in to kiss her, and smilingly says he smells like a pub. "That's because I was at the pub," he concedes. She knows he didn't get the job, and asks what her father said. Desmond says her father was "lovely" (she snorts, not buying it), but they both agreed that he wasn't exactly qualified. Penelope wants to "celebrate that fate has spared [him] a miserable existence under the employ of Widmore Industries," and she wants to treat him to lobsters on the pier tomorrow. Desmond feels his failure to impress the old bastard is not an occasion to celebrate, but if everyone felt that way, the only person ever allowed to celebrate would be an old dead whisky-making admiral apparently.
"The occasion is I love you," says Penny, and Desmond asks her why. "Because you're a good man. In my experience, they're pretty hard to come by," she says. Desmond is so miserable over being loved by a beautiful woman who wants to treat him to lobster that he turns away, which means he unfortunately misses the spectacular cleavage Penny shows as she crawls out of bed to comfort him. She takes his head in her hands and asks where he is. "I'm right here," he says.