Brokerage of Boredom. In the copy room, some snot congratulates Pacey for landing such a hot secretary. Who are these people? Is this company stocked solely by recent parolees? "Nicely done, Witter. Nicely done indeed," the snot drawls. I'm going to take that as a shout-out, because Heathen and I use that construct all the time. Anyway, Pacey goes to find Joey and finds her at her desk, surrounded by a bunch of twittering bints in suits, like Scarlett O'Hara at Ashley Wilkes's barbecue. Why is her presence there so revolutionary? She honestly doesn't even look that hot. I think Katie Holmes is extremely cute, but they almost ugly her up on this show. She's certainly not attractive enough to render every man in this office totally gobsmacked. This show could not get more unrealistic if Joey was abducted by aliens, had her ova stolen and stored in a lock box in the Pentagon, and was given inoperable nose cancer before giving birth to a miracle baby who just might be the Messiah. "That really wasn't that bad," the Scully action figure comments.
At last, Pacey cuts a swath through the idiots and asks Joey if they're bothering her. "No. They may be trying to, but I can't tell. Did any of you go to college?" she asks. What does that have to do with anything? I know as many irritating college graduates as I do non-college graduates. Someone really ought to remind Joey that her last boyfriend -- you know, Oliver, the one she was all in love with before Pacey lost the goatee -- didn't go to college, either. And neither did Pacey! God! Anyway, Pacey informs the crowd that Joey is his secretary, and she affixes him with the dirtiest look. "Office temp," he corrects himself, and tells them that she's not going to be there long, so none of them should get attached.