Back on the group date, Ryan M. steals Meredith off to what he calls "the oasis," a small stretch in the middle of the desert featuring a purple blanket, some tacky throw pillows, some cheap-looking booze with plastic cups, and two fake fronds for a little color. Man, throw in a pink flamingo and a broken voting machine and you could just rename the whole thing "Florida." Out on the blankets, Meredith tells Ryan that he has "a lot of energy," which is first-date shorthand for "you're overbearing and I need you to back off." A slickly edited cut later and her next question is about what he feels is missing from his life. "The right person to share it with," he replies, always on point. Er, meaning topical "on point," not The Company "on pointe." He explains, or thinks he does, that "in the twenties, I didn't find the person to spend the rest of my life with, and I hope in the thirties I can do that." The '20s? Like, The Roaring '20s? I don't remember his occupation as listed when we met him last week, but I really don't think it was "Time Traveler." That must be just a hobby. So, he goes on about how much he'd like to meet a nice flapper, see, and they can dance the fastest Charleston in the history of the whole Coolidge Administration down at a real sweet speakeasy, see, but if that damned stock-market crash hadn't sent him to the steel mills to try and have two thin dimes to rub together, he never woulda met his sweetie. Say, sweetie, you interested in going to see Modern Times down at the Nickelodeon tonight? I hear that Chaplin tramp is simply a dream, cookie! ["Twenty-three skiddoo!" -- Wing Chun]
And that's why the thirties will be better than the twenties, according to noted historian Ryan M.
As Ryan M. is in the middle of his mournful remembrance of the depreciation of the gold standard under Hoover, he is soon to be interrupted by Harold. I think. Ryan M. talks in a really, really, really fast monotone about his job goals in trying to bring to life how he wanted to become a manager but then not put his main focus on moving up the corporate ladder. I can't believe this man is single! Meredith, meanwhile, can't let it go on for one more second. She puts a hand on Ryan M.'s chest and just says, "Relax." In a confessional, she tells us how nervous Ryan M. was, and says that she told him, "I don't need your résumé." Seeing as I have absolutely no other way to end this paragraph, I'll just tell everyone that this is usually the time of day when I make myself a lovely cup of tea. But the last time I went to the supermarket, I bought some hot chocolate instead, and I decided to have that instead. What, I ask you, is the point of getting the kind that comes with marshmallows if they evaporate the second you start stirring?