In a gay bar, Kevin and Scotty are sipping drinks with two of Scotty's friends, one of whom ("Mario") is a valet at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Kevin pipes up that he takes a lot of clients to the BHH's Polo Lounge, to which "Jordan" asks how he can stand it there with all the "stuffed shirts." First off, Jordan, "stuffed shirts" is an expression my dead grandfather would use, so maybe choose something else to convey how hip you are. And secondly, since we're apparently going the bitchy-queen route, I must point out this: You're ugly. Another guy, "Quinn," stops by, and Scotty lets us know that he's one of the promoters. Quinn informs them that they're having karaoke the next night, which is going to be "off the chain." That's true, but not for any reason you know of at this point. Kevin nervously offers that he's not a "karaoke type," and while that could be interpreted as meaning he thinks karaoke's beneath him, it still seems like an overreaction for the three friends to stare at him like he's wearing a mock turtleneck or something. Scotty then gives a hilarious "Isn't he a barrel of laughs!" smile, and I've had more downs than ups with this character, but Luke MacFarlane is freaking adorable.
Ojai. Graham comes in to see Sarah and immediately grabs some ibuprofen off her desk, telling her he was trying to keep up "with these crazy kids from Singapore" the night before. He adds that "these venture capitalists can drink," so we're at least clear that the pain reliever is treating a hangover and not a caning. Graham goes on that they own a startup airline and are thinking of providing healthier meals, so there might be an opportunity there for Ojai. Sarah, reasonably good-naturedly, tells him she would have appreciated an invite, to which he laughs and says that they're savages. "The heavy drinking is not optional." This man needs to bring his clients to a Walker family function sometime. At this point, a messenger enters and drops off a manila envelope for Sarah. Noting her subtle reaction, Graham looks at her with interest, so she confesses that her divorce papers are "finally" ready for her to sign. He notes that that's "fairly significant," but she doesn't engage further, so he leaves, but not before lightly saying he's there if he needs her. When he's gone, Sarah looks at the papers again, and then puts them away in a drawer. No disrespect to your feelings, Sarah, but I think I speak for everyone when I say sign the damn things, purge the last memories of your loser husband and his stupid guitar, and get on with your life.