We're "treated" to Vonda singing that java-jav song while Ally and Hammond continue to work at the coffee shop. Afterwards they walk home, I guess, and Ally says that "it's better than practicing law -- you just give your client a cup of coffee and he walks away!" "Satisfied!" adds Hammond. I'll excuse Ally because it's only her first day, but I must assume that Hammond doesn't do this sort of work as often as he'd like us to believe. I want to hear from them after they've been (a) yelled at by clients having a bad day, (b) vehemently accused of purposely short-changing the client by five cents, (c) reported to their supervisors for not unlocking the drink machine and serving the client after hours, (d) reprimanded by their supervisors for not doing whatever it takes to make the customer happy, (e) called bitches, or (f) forced to stay an hour or two after closing to clean up overflowing machinery. Until they deal with these realities on a regular basis, I'll thank them not to romanticize food-service work while I'm watching the show. Ally and Hammond stop at her door, and he asks her out again. She agrees to go out the next night. She shakes his hand instead of letting him kiss her. He kisses her, anyway. They say goodnight and she hops up the steps. He calls out to her. He asks her if she really believed what she was saying about her case. She did. In the spirit of honesty, then, he says, "I'm bisexual." Cut to Ally's frozen face. Cut to Hammond's observing one. One more shot of Ally, still, frozen, and then we're good to go to commercial.

Haven't there been more commercials than usual? I wasn't planning on buying a Volkswagen anytime soon -- especially since that Stereolab commercial -- but now that I'm seeing one spin around and hop all over the screen, I think I'm ready to cough up the cash!

In Ally's office, she and Elaine discuss Hammond. Elaine frets on her friend's behalf, saying, "This is worse than the last one -- he just turned out to be homeless." Whatever. Ally asks her if Elaine would date a bisexual guy. "Yes," purrs Elaine, rolling her hips and caressing herself. "So why are you seeing this as such a crisis?" asks Ally, except she pronounces it "crises." Elaine says she's trying to look at it through Ally's eyes. She asks when Ally's seeing him again. Ally says tonight. Elaine asked because he's there, at the door. D'oh. "Hammond! Bi!" says Ally, and then corrects herself: "Hi! Hello." Hardy har. Hammond couldn't sleep. He wants to talk. Elaine has to be shooed. Hammond says that Ally looked a little thrown. Ally jokes that she's so sick and tired of guys telling her at the end of the date that they're bi. He says she's covering. She admits she was thrown. He asks what the deal is. She says that she doesn't date so much as audition potential husbands. Pathetic, much? He very astutely asks her why she sees no potential in a bisexual man. Ally says that she associates bisexuality with a life of promiscuity. She would worry that a bisexual man would have needs she couldn't fulfill. She doesn't want to imagine her husbands checking out the "glutes" at her son's ball game. She's nervous about her kids being teased because of their father's sexual orientation. She's "worried about diseases." She supposes she's far more homophobic than she ever imagined. Whatever. Whatever, whatever. She should just say, "David E. Kelly is turned on by lesbians but not by gay men." Flee, Hammond. Escape! You deserve better, buddy. He instead asks for permission to respond to her inanities, however. He refutes each of her points. I don't have to tell you everything said, because I assume that our readers are intelligent non-homophobes who've already thought of the responses, themselves. He uses the words "bias," "ignorance," and "cowardice," but he's not angry. He's trying to be persuasive, for God knows what reason. Ally says merely that he makes a great judge and that the only relevant point is that she doesn't want to go out with him. He leaves, slamming the door. Dude...you can do much better.