Jen walks into class and takes a seat. "Is this art history?" she asks, turning to the student next to her. "Whoa!" she screams, when she gets a gander at said student, who turns out to be Grams. Everyone in class turns and gives them the hairy eyeball. "What are you doing here?" Jen squeals. "The same thing you are, dear," Grams retorts coolly. "What? You're in my class? Oh, this is so uncool," Jen says. Grams explains that she tried to tell Jen that morning, but that Jen was "prattling on and on" and Grams couldn't get a word in edgewise. Jen wonders faintly how this all possibly could have happened. Apparently, Grams attended one of Clifton's summer school classes and was reminded how much she enjoyed academia. Wow, this is just like the time Cindy Walsh enrolled at California University and Brenda was all embarrassed for about forty-five minutes and then went out and bought her mother a CU sweatshirt. "Great, so you're not only going to embarrass me into an early grave, you're also doing this for a man?" Jen hisses. "Jennifah, give me some credit," Grams asks. "I am doing this for myself." Jen plaintively wonders why Grams had to take art history, and suggests that she take a "nice little math class." In my experience, there is no such thing as a nice math class. Jen helpfully points out that using the math section of the brain can stave off Alzheimer's disease. Grams just shoots her a horrified look. Eventually, the professor ambles over and asks if he has to separate them. The rest of the class chuckles. Grams gives Jen a very dirty look.
Time for Boring Subplot B. Pacey walks into an apartment building, looking at a Post-It. Because looking for an apartment is so riveting in real life that we all want to relive it on television as much as possible. Not to mention the fact that the outcome of this plot is so obvious that it's almost insulting to make us sit through it. Anyway. Pacey's checking out this apartment. The current resident is looking for roommates. Her name is Emma. She appears to be about 35, but I assume that's just hard living. She has a fake-sounding British accent and she doesn't want to live with boys. Especially boys who don't have jobs. In the real world, this would be the end of the story. But Pacey wails and moans that he's got a big interview and he's really nice and he'd be a great roommate and yadda yadda. There's some business about how Emma thinks she'd prefer living with these two buff lesbians who came by earlier, and I'm not going to go into that because, really, it's pretty stupid and vaguely stereotypical. She attempts, again, to show Pacey the door. Pacey wonders if she's rejecting him because of "the sexual tension thing." Pacey, she doesn't want to live with boys! Stop harassing her! I already hate Emma, but Pacey is being a total prat. He swears that he can "absolutely guarantee that" neither he nor Jack will fall in love with Emma, if that's what she's worried about. Emma's all, "thanks a lot, jackass," and tries, again to kick him out. All the way to the door, Pacey blathers that he didn't mean it that way, and, see, Jack is gay and he, Pacey, he has a girlfriend and blah blah blah, Emma slams the door in his face. Yawn. Clearly, they're going to live together. Why do we have to go through all this faux-suspense about something as fundamentally banal as finding an apartment? Wouldn't it be more interesting -- or, at least, potentially humorous -- for Pacey to find a great place to live, but have problems convincing Jack to move in or reassuring Audrey that his living with a female roommate is no big deal? At least that would be conflict with, you know, other regular characters as opposed to trumped-up altercations with strangers that the audience doesn't give a shit about anyway.