The Bar. The guy Joey told about the piercing incident? Hits on her, saying that they "don't have to kiss. There are other things…" Joey -- and the world -- look disgusted. "My name is Tom. Hi," Tom offers. Joey tells him that she's sure he's a really nice guy and "a world-class macking master." But she's not interested. Tom bails, and someone else offers to buy her a drink. Joey says something about humor having no effect on stupidity and turns to blow the guy off again, but this time the boy in question is Charlie. "Nice," he says. "You really think you ought to bandy about words you don't understand?" Joey snarks. And Charlie spews some shit about how she doesn't need that defense mechanism with him because he just wants to talk. Yeah, I've heard that before. Apparently, "talk" sometimes means "take off your pants." "I'll start," he says. "Hi, I'm Charlie." Joey feigns interest, and asks why she's "the blessed one" who "piqued [his] interest." Charlie spills some of the worst pick-up lines ever, saying something about how Joey's really, really beautiful, but she doesn't KNOW she's so beautiful, which makes her even more beautiful, you know? Dude, lay off the gorgonzola. Joey shoots Charlie a rather hilarious faux-demure look. "I thought to myself. I want. To meet. That beautiful girl," Charlie announces. "Does this sort of thing actually work?" Joey twitters. Charlie wouldn't know; he's never done this before. God, what a crock! I want to smack this guy! He's that guy, that asshole guy that every girl falls for at least once and then curses forever after. "So you must have used a different tack with Jen Lindley, right?" Joey busts him. He stares at her, and eventually the tiny refrigerator light in his brain turns on. "Joey, a smart girl from Worthington," he figures out. "Charlie. A womanizer from Boston Bay," Joey snarks. Charlie dubs this event "deeply humiliating," but points out that "you can't blame a guy for trying." Joey raises a brow. "No. But you don't have to have a drink with him," she points out, and walks away.
Jen's waiting for Dawson on the porch of Casa Leery. "Interested in some [word unintelligible] sex?" he asks. Please, for the love of all that is righteous and holy, no! Jen doesn't think he'd be up for that. Insert the de rigueur "up for" sex crack. "How was your evening?" Dawson asks, sitting next to her on the steps. Jen tells him that she had a nice chat with Gale. "Once she realized I was after you for more than your body, she lightened up," Jen explains. "We talked about you. Moving to Boston. A certain attic with your name on it. An attic that would be a really great place for you to study," Jen says. Dawson makes a thoughtful face, but says he doesn't think it's "the right time" to move to Boston. Jen says she thinks it is, and so does Gale. Dawson shakes his head and reminds Jen that his family is complicated. "You think I don't know that?" Jen asks. "You have to admit, you're not the best person in the world to be giving me advice about parents," Dawson says. Jen looks like she's been slapped, and stutters that "that's not fair." It's also hitting below the belt and really assy, but she doesn't mention that part. "Those are the facts," Dawson says. "You don't even talk to your mom. And if you want to talk about how I should live my life, we should find a different subject." Jen looks shaky, although I can't tell if she's hurt or angry or planning his death or what. "I actually don't want to talk to you at all right now," she says, and stalks off. Dawson looks at his lap and realizes that he may have just assholed himself out of sex for weeks.