Ally and Richard are meeting with a divorced or divorcing couple. The man is suing the woman for fraud because she's a lesbian. Richard keeps interrupting their arguing so that he can try to satisfy his lewd curiosity. Georgia's representing the lesbian. Ally and Richard have offered to settle for forty thousand, but Georgia's won't hear of it. So they're going to appeals. I half-expected Ally to send Georgia on a guilt trip about their "friendship," but it didn't happen.
Now it's night. Ally's back at the cappuccino place, and the same guy's still working there. They snipe at each other and then Hammond tries to reason with her. Ally threatens to call the manager. Hammond suggests she call the owner, or better yet, let him buy her dinner. He owns that store and three others. Ally is surprised. Hammond is smug and assumes that she'll reconsider now that she knows he's not "the majordomo." Ally says it was wrong of her to dump a cappuccino on his head...he should get chocolate. She dumps on him the mocha-whatever he just served her. So that's how she keeps her girlish figure!
Billy's in his office, pretending to work. Sandy brings him some divorce papers, then turns to go. Billy calls her back. She babbles about the tragedy that is divorce and offers to be there for him if he needs to talk. "You don't want to talk about what I'm dying to talk about, Sandy," says Bill. Well, good, because I don't, either. But dense Sandy asks, "What?" all wide-mouthed innocence. "Nothing," says Billy. Maybe he'll meet her down at the bar. Sandy makes her Face of Great Seriousness, closes his office door, and asks, "What?" again. Billy tells her that his attraction to her is no secret and it would be stupid and unprofessional to...he goes home and doesn't miss Georgia -- he misses Sandy! He's even put up Ally's picture and tried to miss her, but to no avail. Dude -- strap it to your leg, would you? He jokes that with a good lawyer, Sandy could sue him. It would have been funny if she'd said, "Why? Do you know one?" Sandy walks up to him with her do-me-but-please-be-gentle doe eyes and touches his cheek. "It wouldn't be a good idea," she says. "No, it wouldn't," Billy agrees. They start sucking face. The piano and oboe play as if this is a couple I should care about. I'm not fooled, though.
Good lord. I've got to stop eating burgers before recapping, especially if my tapes are going to include commercials for Michael Douglas movies, followed by the car commercial that bastardizes Stereolab. I'm getting an ulcer. From now on I only eat antacids.