Me: Hi.
Guard: Have a nice day.
Me: Thanks.

Nowadays, of course, security is a little tighter, but no one acts the way this guy acts toward Dawson, who's all chattering about how this is his first day and bliddy blah blah, please listen to his life story because he needs constant attention and ego gratification blah. The guard asks Dawson if he's nervous. Dawson admits that he is. While the guard pops into his little hut to check for Dawson's name on his Big Boy's List Of New Interns To Help And Guide, Dawson almost gets run over by a silver Porsche. Hit the gas, lady! Sadly, Dawson scampers out of the way in time. Soon, Folksy ambles out and gives Dawson the go-ahead, along with some directions. Dawson turns to go, but Folksy calls him back. "Dawson," he calls, "try not to get lost in there." Oh, spare me. Dawson grins in response, and heads onto the lot. Is it too much to hope that a boom mike falls on his head? ["Yes -- especially since it's the boom mike that would sustain the most damage in that transaction." -- Sars]

Cut to Boston Bay College, where Jack and Jen walk around with cups of coffee and new hairdos. Jen's hair? Ass. Crimpy, drab-colored, lank ass. Jack's? The new highlights aren't bad, but he's about two precarious inches away from a mullet. It's pretty horrific. When I finally regain my sight, I notice that Jen is walking like a duck. Has she always walked like a duck? ["Duck, truck, same difference." -- Sars] Her red pants are super cute, though. They natter a bit about all the hot guys on campus, a conversation that naturally turns to discussion of Tobey and "the loneliness of a long-distance relationship." Jen sighs that "it's better than the loneliness of a no-distance relationship." She admits that "that doesn't make sense" before I can even finish typing the words "that makes no sense." Behind them, two guys toss a football. Jack sips his java and opines that Jen "needs to get some, and soon," before she "achieves 'born-again virgin' status." Jen laughs awkwardly, but Jack reminds her that the last guy she slept with was Henry, "which means last year was a total wash for [her]." ["Waaaaaait a second. When did she sleep with Henry? Oh, that's right. I don't care anymore. Carry on." -- Sars] Jen laughs again. "Tell me about it," she says. If time spent without sex is "a total wash," then, the last…you know what? That's none of your business. Jack then points out that Jen's "a lot more fun" when she's dating. "Watching you twist yourself into little knots of anxiety. It's entertaining," Jack chortles. "Good to know," Jen says, casting about frantically for another topic of conversation. A football suddenly comes sailing toward them. Jack plucks it neatly out of the air, as a pretty good-looking guy comes trotting up to retrieve it. "Nice throw," Jack says. "Thanks, man," the guy responds, giving both of them the old once-over before inviting them to a party at "the Sigma Ep house." Jen looks at her lap and tries not to laugh, but Jack just grins. "Everything's free," the guy says cheerfully, "punch, beer, shots." Well, I'm there. Jack chirps that they'll be there. "Rock on, dude," Jen mutters, shooting the guy the sign of the devil as he trots off. Heh. She gives Jack a long look. "'Cool, we'll be there'?" she asks. Jack insists the party will be fun, and points out that she might meet someone. Because you're a failure if you're single! A big fat failure! With no reason to live! Jen sort of snorts. "You didn't think that guy was hot?" Jack asks. "Sure, in a Dumb Guy With A Dream kinda way," Jen says. Jack nods. "Nicely put," he says.