Lucy goes to Mike’s house. Mike’s hair looks like absolute shit.
Ruthie drags Wilson up to Robbie’s room and commands them to talk to each other.
Mike tells Lucy that she’s “absolutely mental” for getting engaged to Jeremy. He says he was hoping Lucy would forget about Jeremy and hook up with Mike instead. “Why do you always choose the wrong guys? You always do,” he says. “You never pick the nice ones. Oh, no. We’re too boring.” Lucy points out that Mike introduced her to Jeremy in the first place. Mike says he wouldn’t have if he’d known she’d get engaged to him. He tells Lucy that he loves her and that that’s why things didn’t work out between him and Elaina. Lucy makes a face like she’s trying not to throw up. “This isn’t happening! This is not happening!” Mike unfunnily drags Lucy to the foyer, grabs her head, and kisses her. He says he won’t be her consolation prize. Either she’ll love him, or she can get the freak out of his life. He shoves her out the door and slams it on her back. She makes a goofy face. I think Mike should look for a chick who doesn’t have a fucked-up zigzag part in her head.
I leave off recapping for a while so I can drive my aunt to the grocery store, and then I take a tiny rest on the recliner in my living room while a hailstorm cools off everything outside. I grab something quick to eat at my computer and then turn on the TV. My eyes are assaulted by The Lawrence Welk Show. Women in gold dresses with big brown Breck hair sing, “Or would you rather be a mule?” while ugly men in white tuxedos sway back and forth under the weight of their sideburns. “Gaaah!” I scream. “Here is the beast that spawned 7th Heaven!” Quickly I rinse my mouth with whiskey, trying to remove the sickly sweet taste of family values. And yet I’m forced to sit back down in front of the television set, my eyes unable to look away from the wholesome white-bread goodness. Why am I mesmerized by such moral corn? There’s no telling what sins I’ll have to commit tonight to wash the memories away. “Turbo the Christmas Horse entertained us all by sipping Gatorade straight from the bottle!” chirps an ash-blonde matron as I finally hit play. Is her name Annie, too?
Mary bores the bartender at the pool hall with her personal problems. She’s in love with two guys and blah, blah, blah. The bartender pretends to commiserate, in hopes of a better tip, probably.
RevCam bids James goodbye, asking him to come by the church for more advice-laden chats. “I’d like that,” lies James. He’s rather attractive for an older guy. He looks like the member of some '70s rockabilly band who got the most groupies. RevCam gently flirts, and then James goes away.